The Dirty Dozen

 

THE-DIRTY-DOZEN

 

Number One

Well, I wouldn’t describe her as a bad person. Not bad per se, but I suppose she just was unable to handle my popularity. After all, I cannot help the fact that people are drawn to me can I? Naturally I always reassured her. I suppose being so young she was always going to be insecure but there is only so much that one can do about that I suppose. Terrible thing jealousy. Makes people do things they really ought not to. She hasn’t really ever let go to be frank, no, I know, even after all this time.

 

Number Two

Sometimes you just get it wrong don’t you? I mean, normally I am so good at reading people but I completely got it wrong with this one. Talk about doing a good job of hiding your true self. She was sweetness and light at first and seemed quite a relaxed person. I think that is why I was drawn to her after the possessiveness of number one but I realise now it was just for show. Such anger and all the time. My god, she could power a city with the furious rage she gave off. I thought at times she would explode. I had to make myself scarce many times to stay out of her line of fire. Still do in fact.

 

Number Three

Grade A lunatic. The whole nut job routine. Talk about out of the frying pan into the fire. If I thought number two was bad with her foul temper, then number three was even worse. Seemed like a quiet person at first, the ideal antidote to Miss Furious but beneath that sweet smile and butter would not melt façade this was a conniving, scheming, manipulative harridan. I honestly expected she would break my ankles in order to keep me where she could keep an eye on me, you know, just like the film version of Misery. Thank the lord for a fast car and a fast lawyer, that restraining order is worth its weight in gold believe me.

 

Number Four

Alcoholic. This girl could drink even me under the table and I can handle my drink. Tequila for breakfast, wine for lunch (times two) and vodka before dinner. Like a stick she was, barely ate, but she could put it away. Months after I had her removed from the house (long story short pills plus booze plus psycho do not go well together) I was still finding half-drunk bottles of Stolichnaya and Finlandia hidden around the house. I must admit, I still shudder if I get a whiff of Pernod.

 

Number Five

Ice maiden. Now I am always one to respect a lady and her body. Yes means yes and no means no, I am totally with all of that, but this one, well, yes meant no and no meant never. Believe me I tried to prise her open, you know, overcome whatever it was that had her coiled tighter than a watch spring and colder than a glacier but even more well-known warmth and hospitable nature floundered when faced with the Queen of Winter. What appeared elegant and serene just became a frozen wasteland. I can usually make anybody melt but not this one and after all, a man has needs doesn’t he? It is not too much to expect some relief is it from time to time?

 

Number Six

She wanted to be my mother, I kid you not. Seemed like such a caring person at first, warm, considerate and after the other five degenerates I thought to myself, okay, she isn’t your usual hard body but in all honestly, where has that got me so far. Not that she was ugly, far from it, just a little different from my usual tastes. So, I thought that she would make a welcome change but she took it too far. Making me packed lunches even when I told her I was having lunch with clients, putting out my clothes for me to wear in the morning even when I wanted to wear something else, answering for me, re-arranging appointments for me in case I over-tired myself, suggesting I take a mid-afternoon nap and so on. All done with that weird smile she gave me. Fruitcake.

 

Number Seven

 You know me, I am a great listener, always have been. I am always ready to listen to people because I am interested in what they have to say, I put other people first and so I have plenty of patience but this one, good lord, she just would not shut up. From the moment she woke up her mouth started flapping. Even talked in her sleep, which was not really a surprise. Talked while she ate, talked when I was on the ‘phone, talked to me through the bathroom door when I wanted some privacy, talked during sex and I don’t mean dirty talk but discussing whether she ought to buy a new pair of shoes. The day she got a sore throat was a day to rejoice and kick her into touch so she couldn’t protest.

 

Number Eight

 Katarina Chaos as I used to call her. This woman was a walking disaster area. Habitually late which always irritated me, clumsy (my dry cleaning bill soared), always forgetting things (went through four mobile phones in a month) and a magnet for misfortune. If there was a puddle she would always manage to step in it even when it was harder to do so than to avoid it. She would get trapped in the tube’s doors, lifts would always breakdown with her in them, her car would not start and she would ring (on the most recent mobile before she lost that) explaining her latest mishap. Endearing lady, no doubt about it, kind and amusing, but just so disorganised. Put the wrong bins out at collection time, turned up in formal wear on dress down days, it just became embarrassing and whilst I am not rigid about these things I do like to be organised. Amazingly she was a project manager, I know, I nearly choked when she told me that.

 

Number Nine

Psycho. Always wanted to know where I was. Kept ringing repeatedly and asking me to send her a photograph of where I was to make sure I was where I said I was. Most unnerving. Would turn up without warning and she had that uncanny ability to just sidle up unheard and be at your shoulder. Holy Toledo, it would make me jump. I swear she put a tracker on my car given the number of times she turned up at places even though there was no feasible way she ought to have known where I was. I used to be up and down through the night checking through my blinds and expect her to be stood outside staring through the window with that thousand-yard stare. Very worrying.

 

Number Ten

 Control freak. All her DVDs were in alphabetical order. All the tins in her cupboards had the labels facing the same way. Had to take your shoes off when you entered her house but get this, she made you wear a brand new pair of slippers each time to walk around inside which she then burned afterwards. What a weirdo. Nothing out of place. Always wanted to make decisions for me. No fork ever ventured into the knife section in the drawer. I daresay she ironed the sheets in the bed after we made love and I caught her timing us when we did hit the sack. I should imagine she had a spreadsheet which she compiled on her computer of the orgasm versus number of humps ratio. Wanted me to sit in a particular place whenever I visited and would never let me in the study explaining that it was a “controlled environment” whatever that meant. Mind you when I tipped a rubbish bag through her letter box I think she got the message that things were not working out for us.

 

Number Eleven

 You are amazing. I adore you. I am so lucky that I have you and you listen to me, it is so wonderful to meet, finally, somebody like you. You have no idea what it means to me to be able to talk to you like this and to tell you everything about what has gone in the past. I really do appreciate it. You are so open-minded and tolerant and it puts me at ease, it really does. I know some people would not like to hear about their partner’s previous relationships but I have nothing to hide from you and I know you will not judge me for it, it can only make you and I stronger because I truly appreciate you.

 

Number Twelve

 

Number eleven? What a ballbreaker she was. Never listened to me, always commenting about me, even when I tried to explain things to her. Jumped to conclusions, never let me finish what I wanted to say. Oh and so judgemental too which was really hurtful. Slated my other relationships. Yes, they were not perfect, that’s why they ended, but she went overboard in her critical assessment of them and it was obviously done to make me feel small. Still, you are not like that are you? Thank goodness.

And that’s how the dirty dozen unfolds (okay it’s way more but you get the picture).

10 thoughts on “The Dirty Dozen

  1. J.L says:

    I’m sure she adores you too, HG.

  2. Lucycita says:

    “yes meant no and no meant never”!! LOL 😆 this item is altogether just hilarious why isn’t it published in a magazine?

  3. Rebecca says:

    I remember my recent narcissist complaining about his four ex wives, they’re all crazy, it was their fault the marriages didn’t work, how miserable they made him, how they took his money, his house, his kids, how he should give up on love because it doesn’t seem to work out for him. He attracts the crazy ones, the ones who can’t be satisfied, the ones who are never happy with what he tries to do for them because he loved them so much, each one….red flag with lights and fire flares and I mentally noted it, put it away to analyze later and kept on listening to him whine…..I was so naive.

    1. Asp Emp says:

      Rebecca, four?! Four ex wives? Maybe he married once and multiplied it by 4? 😉 The MRN I knew whined so much too. Unbelievable!

      1. Rebecca says:

        Asp Emp,

        Yeah, he was married four times and I had no idea that was a red flag and how he called them all crazy,including his current wife. So naive….

        1. Asp Emp says:

          Rebecca, when I read your answer, I was reminded of Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, they even acted in some films together. You are not naive, just was unaware, like the majority of us were 🙂

          1. Rebecca says:

            Thanks Asp Emp, I tend to be highly critical of myself and not very forgiving of my own mistakes. I just have ACON written all over me.

          2. Asp Emp says:

            Rebecca, in time, you may become a lot less critical of yourself. I think you may also find that you learn to recognise potential ‘triggers’ in surroundings, other people around you and so on as / when your ET / LT levels become in re-balanced. I also must admit that it took me years to become **calmer but muchly improved after reading HG’s work because it was the final piece of the puzzle of trying to work out why / who / what I am. **when I say calmer, related to experiences in daily life BUT I was still an angry little bitch. I do find myself, these days, being hell of a lot more tolerant of sh*t yet there may be occasions when that sh*t is simply not acceptable in my perception, so I’ll “respond” accordingly. You, being quite some years younger than me, have the opportunities to reach where I am now long before you reach my age. I am glad of this for you. You also have a high level of understanding yourself. It does take time to ‘process’ and ‘re-process’ ET / LT and you are doing well. The world will be lucky to have you around when you reach the stage of being a stronger non-bat wielding smart-mouth because I believe you will do a lot of good for those around you. You’re a good lass 🙂

          3. Rebecca says:

            Asp Emp,

            Thanks for your words of encouragement, I hope to improve like you and a few others I talk with on the blog. I keep hearing from my friends that I’m too hard on myself. Sometimes I feel I’m not hard enough, that I come up short at being better and I disappoint myself and sometimes others. I keep trying, I get up again with much cursing and anger towards myself. I need to stop doing that, but it is an ingrained habit I learned to use it as a coping mechanism. Be harder on myself so as to not disappoint others, avoids getting punished for errors. Sometimes I’m an angry little bitch too and I’m angry with myself and my mother. Angry with myself for accepting abuse from people like my mother and then I get angry with my mother for being such an abusive asshole. I should have just gone off and punch her in the face, instead of just threatening to break her arms. I just resent her so much sometimes. I’m sorry, just got a lot of anger today. I have a situation with my father in law and my husband. My father in law is doing some underhanded shit right now, I’m trying to help, but my husband and his family were trying to resolve it without my help. Now it’s all messed up and now they want my help…my husband yelling at me etc etc….just a damn mess….I’m about to get out my bat…..but, my appeasing side says what I need to say and then takes the reins and gets it done. I’ve already handled three funerals and dealt with insurance companies several times, I know what I’m doing….stubborn people this could have been done days ago. Sorry, this is what I’m dealing with….it’s no wonder I’m half tempted to knock some heads together. Count to 10, jail is not for you….1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi…

          4. Asp Emp says:

            Rebecca, I have confidence that you will improve. You have strength, you have ‘fire’, you have a good level of understanding about yourself.

            No worries, at all, in having a rant about your past. That is what HG’s blog is for. To ‘vent your spleen’. I understand how much anger you may have but you should not direct it at yourself, at all, at present, it is difficult for you not to. You can try and tell / train yourself not to blame yourself any more and once you have got that ‘mantra’ stamped into you mind, you will find that you move onto the next stage(s) of your ET / LT reprocessing. You may not necessarily recognise when the moment actually ‘arrives’ but it does happen, ie when you read or hear something, it comes like a light-bulb moment.

            Your anger should be directed at your mother, but it also appears to be spilling out everywhere around you at present.

            In my opinion, your husband should not be yelling at you.

            I am sorry that you are struggling at present. I can and do understand. It can be really overwhelming in the early days of your journey of understanding and coming to terms with your past.

            You do sound as if you could do with a break away from everyone and stay with a friend for a bit – are you in a position to do that? Maybe arrange a consult with HG? And / or talk with your therapist?

            Either way, keep talking on this blog. Let it all out and it will eventually become more logical than emotional. Hang in there, Rebecca, breathe x

Vent Your Spleen! (Please see the Rules in Formal Info)

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Previous article

You Wear Guilt