Do you think that time heals all wounds? Why or why not?
Too subjective. Depends on the wound. Depends on the person. Continue reading
Do you think that time heals all wounds? Why or why not?
Too subjective. Depends on the wound. Depends on the person. Continue reading
It makes me crazy when people wear their shoes in my house. What habit/act drives you crazy? How do you prevent it from happening?
I couldn’t help but nervously laugh when I read this… I can get quite OCD and nitpick-y about people’s habits / actions and I know that I really shouldn’t. I need to just let things go, but I struggle to do so because I’m too busy taking everything on board, and taking it personally.
One of the worst offenders would have to be Hulk. There are a couple of small things he does that drives me bonkers.
One of them is doing all the laundry on the same wash cycle using the same detergents. Oh my fucking god… sometimes it just makes me want to scream. I’m very pedantic and OCD about doing the laundry – certain clothing and materials have certain wash cycles. For example… all our gym gear is supposed generally washed on a hand wash (gentle) in cold water using a specific washing liquid made for quick-dry and synthetic material, it’s then spun on a low speed (600-800rpm). Hulk, on the other hand will use normal washing powder and fabric softener (A HUUUUGE no no) and spin it on 1400rpm.
That in itself makes me crazy – and usually I have to either re-wash it, or put it through another rinse cycle to get rid of all the fabric softener. But then he goes that extra step and puts all my sports socks in the dryer with all the other socks. NYLON / SYNTHETIC MATERIAL DOESN’T GO IN THE DRYER!!! GAAAAHHHH!!
Or what else I find is that when he does the washing, he puts in soooo much fabric softener, so either when you hang it out to dry, or even after it’s dried, it has a bit of a greasy film over the fabric… most of the time, I end up re-washing my clothes. It does m head in.
The other thing he does is he always, always, puts the dishwasher on a Heavy cycle. Heavy is also the ‘pots & pans’ cycle, and always puts too much into the dishwasher. He also has a real knack of putting items marked ‘NOT DISHWASHER SAFE’ or ‘HAND WASH ONLY’ into the dishwasher, and then doesn’t understand why I go bananas when I unstack the dishwasher and find it in there. Because of this, parts of our blender are wrecked… and he doesn’t get it.
One of the other things that sends me into a table-flipping rage, is when I’m at work (on the ground floor) and people walk into our office and ask blatantly stupid fucking questions like ‘Is this the second floor?’.
…really? HOW MANY FLIGHTS OF STAIRS DID YOU JUST WALK UP!?!? NONE?? THEN GUESS WHAT GENIUS, YOU’RE STILL ON THE FUCKING GROUND FLOOR!!!
Or the people who will look at the giant sign of our company name, and then look around, and somehow, still feel compelled to come in and ask if we are some other organisation in the building.
…Really, bitch? Really?? Did you suddenly forget your alphabet today??
Now that I’m sitting here thinking about it, there are quite a few things that really don’t sit well with me…
Like people who don’t have a shower before going to bed after a night out. Or shower after sex. Or wash their hands after going to the toilet. Or the guys who somehow manage to pee all over the floor because they can’t seem to aim at the GIANT PORCELAIN TARGET IN FRONT OF THEM… Seriously, fellas… what. the. fuck?? Or women who insist on attempting to walk in heels, when clearly, they can barely stand up in them. You know the type… they’re wearing skirts that barely cover their vagina, and they walk like a newborn giraffe…IF YOU CAN’T WALK IN THEM PROPERLY, DON’T FUCKING WEAR THEM!!
Sometimes, we act on impulse: it could be something as small as ordering that special dessert on the menu, maybe asking out that cute boy or girl, or as large quitting your job and selling everything you own to become a shepherd in New Zealand. What’s the most crazy, outrageously impulsive thing you’ve ever done? If you’ve never succumbed to temptation, dream a little. If you gave yourself permission to go a little crazy, what would you do?
I walk a conflicting path in life. Part of me wants to be impulsive and spontaneous, but the other part of me is the logical / rational part that considers all the ‘what-ifs’ of being impulsive and spontaneous; weighing up all the pros and cons. I’m my own contradiction, and it’s fucking exhausting.
I find that I tend to be more impulsive with Hulk, however he’s the one who usually says ‘No’. But to be fair, I also have my moments of saying no to things as well. I think when I was younger (and single) I was much more impulsive. I was only responsible for myself, and that worked for me.
I remember one of the most impulsive things I did was jump in a car with a mate of mine, and we drove around to pick up a couple of other friends and then went to go check out the Christmas Lights in a particular suburb. Then my friend (who was driving) simply decided to do a roadtrip. It was about 10:30pm and we decided to just go for a drive to Geelong.
Once we got to Geelong, we decided to go to Torquay, and then before we knew it, we were on the Great Ocean Road. It was the middle of the night and after a very, very long drive we found ourselves in Port Campbell. By this stage it was about 3am. I remember that it was cold and foggy. We drove past the Twelve Apostles, and we couldn’t see them because of the fog. We pulled up in Port Campbell for a toilet break, and because nothing was open, we turned around and came home – except we came home the inland way, as it was much quicker.
As we were driving, I remember we pulled over in the middle of nowhere (literally!) just so we could stop and watch the sunrise. We were deep in farming area, so all the ground was vast and flat, and the sunrise put an incredible glow on all the different coloured crops surrounding us. And for the first time the whole trip, everybody was completely silent. It was just a beautiful moment.
Breakfast was at a McDonalds at a service station on the highway back to Melbourne, and not long after that, we approached the outer suburbs of Melbourne. We then hit the morning traffic… (did I forget to mention that it was a weekday? I think it was a Thursday!) which meant dropping everybody off took soooo much longer than we had anticipated. By the time I got back to my place, it was about 10:30am… a full 24hrs after we’d set off on our journey.
I remember getting home, having a shower (and subsequently falling asleep temporarily in the bath under the running water!), then crawling into bed and completely crashing. When I woke up, it was almost midnight. I made myself some 2-minute noodles, checked all the messages on my phone (Sorry, no interest in going out tonight! too exhuasted!) then went back to bed, and slept for another eleven hours. I was wrecked, but it was a fun little adventure.
Now that I’m older, I don’t get to do anything like that anymore. However, my plans of being a bit impulsive have changed somewhat…
For about 18months now, I’ve been slowly building up my frequent flyer points. I realised a while ago that I could get a one-way ticket to L.A. or N.Y. and I’d just have to save up enough cash for accommodation etc, and all I’d need to do is pack a bag and go.
Granted, this was something I’ve decided that I’d do if I ever happened to breakup with my partner. It’s not something that I anticipate happening, but it was something that I brought to his attention last year around my birthday, when I said I would disappear overseas if he tried to throw me a surprise party…. that’s how much I dislike them!!
Now, my recent statement has shown me that I have accrued enough points for a return flight to either London, LA or NY… which I’m LOVING!! It’s not everyday somebody like me has an opportunity to travel overseas on a whim. I’d love to be able to do it, but I’d want to make sure that Hulk can come with me… so it might need some further planning. A holiday in New York… yaaaaasss!!
How is your writing voice like you? How does your writing voice differ from you?.
I find that when I’m writing, I write in a few different voices… which are all essentially me. I write the way I would say things; I write the way I would like to say things; I write the way I would would like to read things; and I write the way the voices in my head tell me to write.
In saying that though, the voices in my head are all me, I think they’re more tonal representations of my different emotions. I would just like to make a point right now that when I say ‘voices in my head’ I don’t mean, like, several different people or personalities – I’m not fucking crazy.
My writing voice is very, real I guess. I write things how I see it. I write how I feel. I’m just honest. I will say though, that when I do write and incorporate characters and dialogue, I actually visualise that character in my head – what they look like, what they’re wearing, what they sound like… all those characteristics. But it gets a bit confusing when I get into a creative flow; when I get ‘in the zone’ and I just write without really paying too much attention to detail. I find that I see a ‘scene’ in my head, kind of like a movie, but I then feel rushed to write it all down as fast as I can, so then my visual can progress to the next ‘scene’.
I’m a bit weird like that.
Tell us about the time you threw down the gauntlet and drew the proverbial line in the sand by giving someone an ultimatum. If you’ve never handed out an ultimatum but secretly wanted to, describe the scene and what you would say to put an end (one way or another) to an untenable situation.
God, which one do I write about?? There’s so many!!
I think one of the
worst best examples of this was many years ago when I was in my early twenties. I had been casually dating this guy for quite some time, and it was (what I thought) was my first real relationship with a guy. We were always together, but because we had separate places, we also gave each other space, it was great. Nobody was being smothered, and by nobody, I really mean me.
Now, I’m not going to lie, yes, as much as I thought was in love, turns out I was wrong. The ins and outs of that complete clusterfuck of a relationship are so great, it’s a novel in it’s own right. (Sidenote, I actually have plans to write about how destructive that relationship was, and how fucking stupid I was… but that’s for a later date).
But as much as I enjoyed being with him, I wanted more. I wanted us to be exclusive, and for some reason he couldn’t give me that.
I had gotten myself so caught up in the idea of having somebody I can actually refer to as my boyfriend. I was young, and naive, and I wanted the ‘title’. I wanted to be able to introduce him to people as my boyfriend ie. ‘Oh, have you met my boyfriend, G?’, ‘Oh, no I can’t make it tomorrow, my boyfriend is cooking me dinner.’, ‘Well, I was planning on taking my boyfriend out for lunch as a surprise’ etc etc etc. You know that type of person. The one who has to keep announcing it to the world that they finally have managed to find somebody who’s prepared to put up with their shit, and actually have a relationship.
Unfortunately, G was always sheepish about that topic of becoming exclusive, and avoided it as much as possible… then I found out why.
Turns out he still had a boyfriend. Y’know, that old chestnut.
So when he told me previously that they had broken up, it was all bullshit.
There simply aren’t enough words to explain the type of rage that was coursing through my body during that point of my life. It was hard to hear, and it hurt so, so much, and we didn’t see each other or speak to each other for about a month or so immediately after that. I just… I couldn’t.
But what made it worse was that during this break, he kept texting me. Telling me that he was sorry, and telling me how much he missed me, and telling me that he feels so incomplete without me.
SHOULDN’T YOU BE SAYING THAT TO YOUR CURRENT BOYFRIEND, YOU BASTARD!?!?
He tried explaining to me the severely complicated nature of his relationship with his on-again-off-again boyfriend. Turns out they’d been together for a number of years. Yep. YEARS. So it was a pretty serious thing. In saying that, G was kinda fucked up as well. He was extremely closeted, and had major issues about his sexual identity and his work life, family life, sporting life etc. Basically, he was just scared.
By this stage I was done. I’d had enough. He became one of those people who was always going to break up with his ‘boyfriend’ but would never have the balls to actually do so.
I remember that after that month of not talking, another four or five weeks passed, and I refused to see him, but I started replying to his messages. We’d gone through so much already that I couldn’t just cut him out of my life completely. I was capable of being a cold-hearted prick if I really wanted to, but for some reason, I couldn’t do that to him.
We eventually reconnected and began to slowly move back to a place where we previously were with each other, and due to our work schedules, things kept getting interrupted or re-scheduled, so we decided to have a date night. It was long overdue and we were both looking forward to it. I’d asked him about his ex, and he said that things were pretty much over, and G told him that he wanted to start seeing other people.
Apparently that didn’t go down too well.
To me, this was indicating that things between the two of them were over. When your partner of several years says they want to see other people, that’s pretty much Game Over right there. Part of me felt sad that it had ended like that, but there was a small glimmer of hope that this meant we would actually be able to pursue our relationship together.
We had a lovely night out and talked and laughed over dinner, and then came back to my place afterwards and started making out on the couch. Before we knew it, we were half-naked, and then his phone rang. And he ignored it.
And then it rang again.
And again until he finally answered it. It was his ex. He was saying that he wanted to see G and talk. G said he was busy and would talk to him tomorrow, and hung up.
The phone rang again and even I heard this voice say something along the lines of “I’M OUTSIDE YOUR PARENTS HOUSE ALREADY. IF YOU DON’T COME AND MEET ME, I’M GOING IN THERE AND TELLING THEM EVERYTHING”.
I believe in chess, that’s called Check Mate. By this stage, G was on the brink of tears, apologised and left. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I was beside myself. I couldn’t even construct a sentence. I slammed the front door and collapsed on the ground crying uncontrollably.
By this stage it was probably about 9pm and so I picked myself up, went and had a long hot shower (and more crying) and put myself to bed.
3am I hear a tap-tap-tap on my bedroom window.
YOU’VE GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!!
There was G, standing outside in the cold. He looked like shit. I was so angry with him, but at the same time, seeing him standing there, you could almost see his world imploding – like it was right there in his eyes. I felt sorry for him but that wasn’t enough for me to let him in. I told him to go home. I was done. I was soooo done. I woke up again about 6:30 – 7am to something like fifteen missed calls and about 30 text messages. Turns out he’d slept in his car out on the street, after bawling his eyes out for a couple of hours. He had realised that he’d fucked up, and he felt trapped and didn’t know what to do.
That day I agreed to let him come over, and we had a big talk. He told me all the ins and outs of his dramas with his… whatever. boyfriend / ex-boyfriend. The more he admitted to me, more and more memories started making sense. I’m not going to deny, his ex truly was a nightmare, and going out of his way to make G’s life a living hell, but that was his problem, not mine!
That was the point where I’d simply had enough and I told him. I said this is where I stand, and this is what I want, and this is what I want from you. You need to make a decision as to whether or not you want the same, and whether or not you’re prepared to make that sort of commitment, because if not, we’re done. I’m not doing this anymore. I just, I can’t.
I drew the line in the sand.
…and he sat there and told me that he wanted exactly what I wanted, he just couldn’t do it, because he was too scared. He was too scared of the repercussions it would have and what his ex would do blah blah blah… I tuned out when I heard this. I just… I couldn’t anymore.
It had been something like 3 years of this whole on-again-off-again casual ‘relationship’ and yet, even though we were never officially ‘together’ it felt like a breakup, and it was horrible. I was so angry, and so upset. I couldn’t talk to him. I wished him well and we hugged at the front door just before he left.
The next couple of months were a bit rough for both of us. We still messaged each other, and he felt compelled to tell me about his boyfriend dramas. I DON’T CARE!! I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT. YOU MADE YOUR CHOICE, AND THAT IS WHAT YOU CHOSE. YOU HAVE TO ACCEPT THE CONSEQUENCES. YOU DON’T GET TO BITCH AND COMPLAIN ABOUT IT. THIS WAS YOUR DECISION!!
I would say it was almost six-months after we parted ways, and we’d had a bit of space and a bit of silence between us, and then he sends me a message asking if we can meet up for a quick coffee… I begrudgingly accepted, as I’d been ignoring everything else from him for so long. He seemed to be doing well. Work was going great. He was looking good. He just seemed to be in a really good spot. Our quick coffee turned into hours and hours of conversation and he drove me home afterwards.
Then at one point we were just sitting there in a moment of awkward silence, and like a fuckwit, I couldn’t control my hormones, and so I practically jumped him and started to kiss him. Then my conscience kicked in and stopped me. I pulled myself off him and apologised. He looked confused and I suggested that he should go.
Poor G. He must have thought he had been given the green light, and then got cock-blocked. Oops. My bad. I really didn’t intend for that to happen, it was merely a momentary lapse in judgement.
I suggested that he leave, but then he says that he wants to talk to me about something. I’m like, well, you’ve had all afternoon. We’ve been talking, why haven’t you brought it up. Long story short, this fucker has the nerve to tell me that he’s finally ended things with his ex. Like, over. done. kaput. finished. He’s now a single gay man in the world, and wanted to know if I was still a single gay man, and whether or not my offer to be together was still on the table.
No, you cunt. That offer was destroyed when you picked your ex over me. That offer was off the table when you turned your back and walked out the door. More importantly, HOW DARE YOU THINK THAT I’M GOING TO BE WAITING HERE WITH BAITED BREATH ON THE SIDELINES FOR YOU?! WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!!
He wanted to talk, and I didn’t want to hear anything else out of his mouth. I told him to leave, and that was it. I could not believe that the one thing I’d been waiting for all this time had just been handed to me on a silver platter, but I’ll be damned if I was going to jump up and down for joy over it. After all the bullshit that I had to put up with. All the drama. All the tears. All the constant calls and messages and ‘I miss you’s’. I was done. DONE!
It was about two years ago, and I saw a video on a website. It was G. It was him making a public statement about him coming out, and the reaction that he’d received. My jaw literally hit the ground. Who was this person I was watching? Where was this guy all those years ago. I was so incredibly proud of what he’d done. I was so happy for him. I sat there at my desk and cried, because I know how much it had tormented him. I know how much it upset him and I know how scared he was… and there he was on my screen, a completely changed person. All I had were tears of happiness for him. Even thinking about it now gets me choked up, but only because I know how much he struggled with it. I will always have love for him, for a number of reasons, but I’ll never forget how much he hurt me.
What helps you keep thoughts in perspective so they don’t overwhelm you?
*lol* Well, let’s just be honest here… this doesn’t happen.
My mind is constantly whirring with a thousand different thoughts all at once – and each thought is like a never-ending mind map, it’s just that each thought branches off into it’s own though, which in turn branches into another thought… and they all happen simultaneously and it drives me crazy. Being alone with my thoughts is probably one of the worst things, and one of the best things all at the same time.
The worst because it really can become overwhelming, especially if they’re full of emotion and suddenly I’m sitting in the bathtub having a shower at 1am silently crying… yet I might not necessarily know why. But at the same time, whilst I’m crying I’ll be thinking to myself, ‘I really should be writing this. I should be writing about ALL of this’.
WRITE ABOUT ALL THE FEELS!!
But the good thing about these moments of silent-emotional-breakdown, is that it allows me to put the emotion to the side (or, well, outside – in the form of tears / pain / sadness etc) and look at just the facts. Analyse everything. Pros. Cons. Good. Bad. If X then Y. And then I start to look at solutions, alternatives etc.
It’s not necessarily the best way to deal with my thoughts, but like I said, I’m so preoccupied having so many of them now, I really don’t know where to begin. Take this exact moment… finish blog post; post to blog her; oh god I need to poo; damn I can’t stay any longer or i’ll be late for class; I need to change my playlist; i’m so hungry; i want cake; oh, no seriously, i need to poo; i gotta get out of this office; god damn i have so many feelings; wow, I’m really typing quite fast – go me! I can’t sit still properly; i should have another drink of water; i wonder if it still smells like fire outside?; is it hot outside? why haven’t i finished this yet?? GAAAHHH!!!
And that’s normal for me. All at once. I hear all that from the moment I wake up, to the moment I go to sleep. All day. CONSTANTLY. It’s almost impossible not to let it get to you and become overwhelming, but I think that because I’ve been like that for so many years, I’m used to it, and to not have such an active brain would probably send me crazy… like certifiably, white jump-suit padded-room crazy.
Write a post that includes dialogue between two people — other than you. (For more of a challenge, try three or more people.)
Sophie couldn’t take it anymore. The unhappiness of her husband’s infidelity was slowly destroying her. She loved him so very much, but at the same time felt so completely betrayed by him. She had known about this for almost twelve months, but had said nothing. It also wasn’t the first time they had had major problems in their relationship. She wasn’t sure what to do, she didn’t want anybody else to know the intimate details of their marriage problems, so she kept everything to herself. Day after day, month after month, the pain just kept eating away at her, and slowly her love for this man, her husband, was becoming more and more a feeling of resentment.
She’d been wanting to say something to him for a while, but she never had the courage to do so. She was too afraid of the confrontation. She was too afraid of how he would react, especially if it was anything like that other time. She vowed to avoid anything that would lead tohim reacting like that again. But most of all, she was afraid for the kids. Her two young sons who knew nothing of the problems in their parents marriage.
Sophie: Hey Steph, it’s me.
Stephanie: Hey, what’s going on?
Sophie: *exhales* not much, just finished hanging out the washing, and put on another load. Thought I’d have a break before I start the vacuuming.
Steph: Jesus, you just don’t stop do ya? You’re like a machine… you’re always doing something, cleaning something, driving somewhere, picking up kids…
Sophie: *laughs* hehehehe yeah, tell me about it. Story of my life. Ugh, girl, I need a fucking holiday.
Steph: Well, then why don’t you and Nathan plan a little getaway somewhere? You two should go away for a long weekend or something. I’ll watch the kids, and you two can… y’know, reconnect. hehehe.
Sophie: HA! Yeah right. The last thing I’d want to do is be alone and feel obligated to reconnect.
Steph: What do you mean? It’d be great for you two. I can’t even remember the last time you two had a holiday…
Sophie: Well… there was…
Steph: *interrupting* No, you’re trip to Cairns doesn’t count, because you had the kids. When was the last time you had a break or a holiday without the kids? Just you two?
Steph: EXACTLY!! Even I’m struggling to think about it… and I reckon you haven’t had a break alone since you had J-J… and that was, what, 12 years ago or something. You’re overdue. So, why don’t you plan it… it doesn’t have to be soon.. make it for a couple of months or something…
Sophie: mmmm… nah, I don’t…
Steph: *interrupts* yeah, make it for like June – July. GO somewhere tropical so you can get a bit of sunshine. You need to get that white body into the sunshine from time to time… Or I’m gonna have to start calling you Casper.
Sophie: Hhehehe. Bitch.
Steph: Seriously, do you want me to help you plan it? it’ll be great… You just need to pick a date, and then get work to approve a day or two of leave so you can really make a proper break out of it. I’ll help you organise flights and hotels and stuff. Oh yay, now I’m excited!!
Sophie: You can’t help yourself, can you?
Steph: Not really. Besides, what are sisters for. It’ll be fun… Then when I need you to look after Emily, I’m gonna call in that favour. hehehe
Sophie: Yeah, yeah. No, I don’t think I want to go away to connect.
Steph: What do you mean?
Sophie: I mean, I think I’d rather disconnect instead.
Steph: What do you mean?
Sophie: I think I want to leave Nathan.
Steph: Wait, what?
Sophie: Yeah, I think I want to leave Nathan.
Steph: Oh my god, honey, why? What’s going on?
Sophie: Oh, well, it’s just… there’s been a few issues going on, and I’m not really sure what to do but I don’t think I want to stay married anymore. I think I want to get a divorce.
Steph: Wait, back the fuck up. You want to get divorced? Shit, honey, that’s serious. What’s wrong? Are you okay? Has he hurt you at all… I swear to god…
Sophie: No, no, it’s nothing like that. You know I’d never allow him to lay a hand on me…
Steph: Yeah, well good. If he did, I’d fucking kill him.
Sophie: Hehehe. Anyway, *sigh* I’m not sure how exactly to say this to you, but thing’s aren’t great with Nathan and I.
Steph: What? Wh-what do you mean?
Sophie: Um… there’s been a lot of problems in our marriage. A lot of problems… and I’m not sure what to do about them anymore.
Steph: What do you mean, problems? Is everything okay? Why do I not know about this? Why haven’t you said anything.
Sophie: I.. I just… I didn’t want other people to know about my personal life, because I don’t want people talking about me behind my back. I… *sigh* I just thought that I’d be able to handle everything by myself. I thought if I ignored it, then it would be fine; that it would go away and everything would go back to normal.
Steph: Um, are you kidding me? What the fuck, Soph? What’s happening? You know you can tell me anything… ANYTHING!! Why haven’t you told me anything before?
Sophie: I was too scared. I didn’t want you to judge me.
Steph: Of course I’m going to judge you, I’m your sister, that’s what I do.
Steph: I’m kidding. You know I’m always here for you. I’d do anything for you, I love you.
Sophie: I just don’t know what to do… I know I need to do something, but I’m not sure what. I know that our relationship has changed, well, for me it has, and I know that it’s not getting better. I know that something needs to be done, and I think that I need to divorce him. But I’m just too scared to say anything to him in case he blows up again like he did last time. I don’t want to get the kids involved, but if we get divorced, then they’re going to be involved regardless, and I don’t want to put that on them – it’s just too much too handle, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do… I’m scared Steph…
Steph: Hang on, hang on… do you want me to come over?
Sophie: NO! No, please don’t. You know how he feels about me having people over… I don’t want to upset him.
Steph: This isn’t you. You’re acting like a scared little puppy. Do you want to meet me for coffee instead, and we can go to Luciana’s for coffee and talk?
Sophie: No, I have to be here when he gets home, or he’ll get mad again. I don’t want to make him mad.
Steph: What the fuck has gotten into you. Are you sure he’s not hurting you. Is he hurting you?
Sophie: No. Don’t be silly.
Steph: You’re acting like one of those crazy bitches from the news… those ones with abusive partners, but they love them… what’s that called again… ‘Fucking Crazy Stupid Bitch Syndrome’??
Sophie: I think you mean Stockholm Syndrome?
Steph: Whatever. Either way, that’s what you’re sounding like. You’re starting to scare me – tell me what’s going on!!
Sophie: He’s not hurting me…
Steph: SOPHIE! FUCKING TELL ME!!
Sophie: I found out Nathan had an affair.
Sophie: Well, I think he had an affair.
Steph: HE FUCKING WHAT??
Sophie: I’m not entirely…
Steph: *interrupts* I’LL FUCKING KILL HIM MYSELF!!
Sophie: Steph… It’s not..
Steph: SERIOUSLY… I WILL COME OVER THERE AND FUCKING KILL HIM…
Sophie: Steph… Stop! I don’t know for sure if he’s had or is having an affair, but I’ve found stuff to suggest that maybe he is…
Steph: Well, did you ask him about it?
Sophie: No. Oh god no, of course not.
Steph: Well why the fuck not? You have a right to know!
Sophie: I only found out because I was snooping through his phone.
Steph: Well, did you have any reason to suspect anything to warrant searching his phone…
Sophie: I know it was wrong…
Steph: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? Listen to what you’re saying. You think it was wrong to go snooping through his phone, because you had reason to suspect something was wrong. How about HE SHOULDN’T HAVE BEEN HAVING A FUCKING AFFAIR IN THE FIRST PLACE TO WARRANT YOU SNOOPING AROUND!!! What a cunt!! What a dirty, low-life, scum-sucking son-of-a-cunt!!
Sophie: STEPH!! STOP IT!!
Steph: Seriously? are you kidding me?
Sophie: So anyway, I was looking through his phone one night, simply because I wanted to have a look at some of the photos we took on J-J’s birthday… but as I was flicking through them, I found a secret folder marked ‘Private’.
Steph: Well, naturally you’re going to want to see what’s in there…
Sophie: But it’s got a password on it.
Steph: OF COURSE IT DOES. Which means he doesn’t want anybody else to see what’s in it…
Sophie: Exactly. So I tried a few different password combinations, and finally unlocked it, and there they were…
Sophie: An entire folder full of photos of all these different women.
Steph: What, like porn?
Sophie: Well, not unless one of those ladies happens to also be the mother of one of the kids J-J goes to school with…
Sophie: Yeah. There were photos of her in different types on underwear, lingerie, and a whole heap of naked ones… and even really naked ones…
Steph: What do you mean really naked?
Sophie: I’m talking like I can literally see what the bitch ate for breakfast…. or she just got fisted before taking the photo…
Steph: OH MY GOD, FUCKING GROSS!!
Sophie: Yeah… but there were a few other women in there as well. Not porn shots or anything, but actual real everyday women… So then I went through his messages. He’s been messaging a few different women as well…
Steph: What a cunt!!
Sophie: Stop using that word! I hate that word!
Steph: I know you do, but it’s the only word to describe him right now…
Sophie: Anyway, so I found a couple of different messages… going on about how he had a great time and we should meet up again… or wanting to know if they were available for a lunch-time meeting… or one of my favourites ‘next time, you can go down on me in the backrow instead’… or my personal favourite, and I quote ‘I’ll just tell her that I’m working late, and then I’m going to drive over to your place, rip your clothes off and destroy that wet pussy of yours so you can’t stand proplerly’.
Sophie: Steph? Steph, are you there?
Sophie: Steeeph?? Are you still there?? Damnit, I lost her…
Steph: No, No, I’m still here… I’m just… I don’t know what to say… I’m lost for words.
Sophie: Yeah… I know what you mean.
Steph: No, I just don’t know what to say, because the rage that is rapidly building inside of me is so overwhelming THAT I CAN’T STRING A FUCKING SENTENCE TOGETHER, BECAUSE ALL I WANT TO DO RIGHT NOW, IS FIND THAT FUCKING SON OF A BITCH AND LITERALLY TEAR HIM THE FUCK APART. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WITH THIS?? SERIOUSLY?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL HIM. I WILL FUCKING KILL HIM… SOPHIE… YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND. HE’S A DEAD MAN.. A FUCKING DEAD MAN!!
Sophie: I know, I know, and this is why I didn’t tell you anything. I knew you’d get upset.
Steph: UPSET? UPSET?! REALLY? FUCKING REALLY? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? HOW CAN YOU BE SO FUCKING CALM WHEN YOUR CUNT OF A CHEATING HUSBAND IS A FUCKING ARSEHOLE!! I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU’RE NOT SO FUCKING ANGRY. I’M… I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO CALL IT…
Sophie: I think it’s called rage, and yes, I’ve been there. In fact, most of the time when I see him, I just feel pure rage, but I don’t dare confront him about it. I don’t want to upset him.
Steph: See, that’s your problem right there… ‘Crazy Bitch Syndrome’. NOBODY should ever feel like that in their relationship. Why are you so afraid to call him out on it? What’s got you so scared? You said that he’s never hit you… so then why is it that you can’t confront him and fight about it like normal people??
Sophie: I just… I can’t. Last time I confronted him about something, he got so mad. I was so scared. Not for me, but for the kids.
Steph: If he hasn’t hit you, or threatened to hit you, then there’s nothing to be afraid of. Did he threaten the kids?
Steph: Well, then did he threaten to divorce you?
Steph: Kick you out?
Sophie: No, nothing like that.
Steph: Then what? What are you so afraid of?
Sophie: *exhales* So, remember a couple of years ago, when we went to Simone and Peter’s dress-up dinner party?
Sophie: Well, do you remember the costumes that we had?
Steph: Yeah, um… Bonnie and Clyde or something, right?
Sophie: Yeah, well, I kept telling him about the party that was coming up, and asking him if he had any suggestions for a costume, and he said no. I asked him, and I asked him, and I asked him so many times, and then all of a sudden it was the day before, and we hadn’t organised anything, so I went to costume hire place and just got the outfits.
Sophie: Well, when he got home, he was already so mad, and I didn’t want to show him the costume… but it was too late, and we just had to get ready and head over straight away so we weren’t late.
Sophie: He was so angry. WE were in the car and he didn’t say a word to me. Even at the party, he was acting as though everything was fine, and a couple of times when I went to kiss him, he pulled away and told me to “get the fuck away from him”.
Steph: What a prick!
Sophie: It was like that the whole night. Even after we’d gotten home. I decided to have a drink, so i opened a bottle of wine and he came into the kitchen, and got right up to my ear and said “if you ever do shit like that again, I’m going to fucking kill you, and make it look like an accident. I will shoot you in your sleep, and shoot myself to make it look like an armed robbery. Do you understand?!” And then walked off upstairs.
Steph: what. The. Fuck?!
Sophie: Yeah. I know, right.
Steph: So what did you do?
Sophie: Well, I didn’t know what to do. My husband had just threatened to kill me, Steph. The first thing I thought of was, ‘oh my god, I need to get the fuck out of this house!’, but I couldn’t leave the kids, if he was going to threaten me like that, then who’s to say that he wouldn’t do the exact same thing to the kids, or worse… And I wanted to go to the cops, but what would that do? ‘Oh, yes, excuse me officer, my husband has just threatened to kill me, but if you ask him about it, he’ll just say that I was dreaming, or I was drunk because I had a glass or two of wine, and then as soon as you leave, he’ll probably beat me to within an inch of my life, or actually kill me.’ They’ll just think I’m a raving lunatic… And then of course, what happens to the boys??
Steph: Okay, clearly you’re so incredibly fucking terrified, because you obviously don’t understand the severity of this situation, If your husband has threatened to kill you, then you do something about it. You take the kids and you get the fuck out of there. He’ll, I’ll drop everything and come with you just to make sure that you’re not alone. But apart from that, the first thing you should do is go to fucking cops.
Sophie: Yeah, I know, I know, but I was just too scared. He was already so angry, and if I involved the police he’d be even more upset because I went behind his back and told somebody else about our business.
Steph: bitch, you have lost the fucking plot. What do you mean? He’d get upset because you told somebody…. You mean BECAUSE YOU TOLD SOMEBODY THAT YOUR BATSHIT FUCKING CRAZY HUSBAND THREATENED TO FUCKING KILL YOU!! No, sorry, that’s just totally fucked up. You, are totally fucked up.
And you mean to tell me, that you’ve been having to deal with this for the last few years?
Steph: And you’ve never told anybody about this.
Sophie: Nope. You’re the first person I’ve ever told.
Steph: I’m so glad that you finally told somebody. This is not on. We need to do something. We need to go to the cops. We need to get you and the boys out of there sooner rather than later. Have you got any cash out away?
Sophie: Um, we’ve got a bit saved up in one of our savings accounts…
Steph: Right. I’ve got a bit of cash saved up as well. I’m getting you out of there. We’ll pack up some stuff and disappear.
Sophie: Well, I can’t just disappear without saying anything. Can you imagine what would happen? Steph! No! I can’t!
Steph: Well you can’t stay there. Even if you want to take a chance that he’s just full of shit and just shooting his mouth off, it’s not safe for you there.
Sophie: I know what you’re saying, trust me, I hear what you’re saying, but this has been going on for so long already…
Steph: Oh, so then his bark is worse than his bite.
Sophie: Well, I have been making sure that I don’t do anything to instigate a situation. I know where the line is, and I know not to cross it. It’s been fine, so long as I don’t cross the line, but when he does, then it’s pretty bad.
Steph: I don’t want to hear this any more. I just want to get you out of there. Now. I need you to get out of there NOW!!
Sophie: *sigh*… No, you’re starting to overreact. I get that you’re worried, trust me, honey, I get that and I love you for being so protective, but I don’t need to just… runaway from everything. I can’t. I just can’t.
Steph: But what if you stay and something happens. I mean, it’s not like he’s actually going to shoot you, but it’s bad enough that he’d make threats like that… as though he’s put perhaps a bit too much thought into that whole situation.
Sophie. Well, I did go and make sure that there were no bullets in the gun. I threw them away in the rubbish.
Sophie. The gun. Nathan’s gun. I know where he hides it, and I’ve thrown out all the bullets.
Steph: Hang on.. HE’S GOT A GUN?!?
Sophie: Well, yeah, why do you think he says he’s going to shoot me. He’s told me a number of times that there’s a bullet with my name written on it…
Steph. I can’t listen to this any more. This is just spiraling out of control more and more every time you open your god damn mouth. Now, either you get your shit together and you go to the cops and turn that bastard in… or I’ll fucking do it for you.
Steph: No. I’m fucking serious. You might be the crazy bitch in your bullshit marriage, but that shit is a mess and you need to involve the police. Bottom line: call the cops.
Sophie: …Steph, don’t be like that.
Steph: No. I’m not prepared to take a chance… either you call the cops, or I will.
Sophie hears movement in the next room
Sophie: Shit. Honey, I gotta go. I’m not going to call the cops and neither are you. Just drop it. Love you. I’ll call you later. I gotta go. Bye. bye.
Steph: Soph! Wait… I…
Sophie hangs up the phone and takes a moment to lean against the sink. She let out a great big sigh as she looked out the window and into the distance. She felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She felt as though this moment was the beginning of the end, or at least the next chapter of her life. She stood up and turned around and let out a shriek.
Sophie: JESUS! Nathan you scared the shit out of me
Nathan: Sorry dear. Are you okay?
Sophie: I didn’t hear you come in. You startled me.
Nathan: So who were you talking to?
Sophie: Oh nobody. Just Steph.
Nathan: Uh-huh. And what were you talking about?
Sophie: Oh nothing, just a bit of a catch up.
Nathan. Oh, okay. So you two weren’t plotting and scheming?
Nathan started to walk around the end of the island bench towards Sophie. Sophie, meanwhile started to back-away with extreme cautfion.
Sophie: I… I don’t know what you’re talking about…
Nathan: Oh, okay. So you weren’t talking about running away and calling the cops?
Sophie: No, of course not. Don’t be stupid.
Nathan suddenly lunged at Sophie. She jumped back, but he grabbed her dress, ripping the material as she frantically tried pulling away from him. His hand slipped, and she tripped over his forearm, stumbling briefly before falling down. She kicked her legs as a means to try and escape, but it didn’t work. He grabbed her ankles, and pulled her across the floor as she tried to claw away from him. She kicked and she screamed, as he pulled her closer, until he had climbed on top her. She tried shaking as violently as she good, but to no avail. With one of his hands, he grabbed her tightly around the throat and slowly began to squeeze. The colour in her face started to change colour, and she began struggling to breathe. He knew that all he needed to do was just squeeze a little harder and she’d be out cold. Permanently. Then he realised that he’d be charged with first-degree murder, and he couldn’t go through that.
There was the sound of an almighty smack. Sophie screamed and turned her head away.
Nathan: SEE WHAT YOU MAKE ME DO? WHY DO YOU DO THIS?
Sophie was left laying on the floor shaking, crying, and nursing the bright red hand-print on the side of her face.
Nathan: I TOLD YOU, YOU STUPID BITCH! I FUCKING TOLD YOU NOT TO CROSS ME. EVER!!
Sophie: *through her tears* I’m so sorry darling. I didn’t do anything. It was all Stephanie. She was doing all the talking. I kept telling her she was being ridiculous. I’d never do anything to upset you like that. I love you, baby. I love you so much. I’m sorry that I upset you.
Nathan stood up, and stood over Sophie, before unleashing a powerful and brutal kick to her abdomen, completely winding her and making her double over in excruciating pain. She coughed and wheezed as she tried to gulp down some oxygen, choking from her damaged oesophagus.
Sophie rolled over to see Nathan walking away and up the stairs. She let out a deep, painful moan as she held her abdomen. She took a moment to compose herself, before she began to crawl onto her hands and knees and use the back of a kitchen stool to help her stand up. She managed to make it to her feet, and slumped over the stool in sheer agony, and crying uncontrollably.
From the other end of the kitchen she heard a voice.
JJ: Mummy, are you okay? Why did daddy hurt you again?
Sophie felt as though her entire world has just crumbled around her. The last thing she ever wanted was for either of her children to witness something so horrific. Needless to say she didn’t know how to react if they saw it a second time.
Think about something that drives you crazy. Now, think about something that makes you happy. Does it change your perspective on the former?
How long have I got? More importantly, how long have you got. I could go on and on about what drives me crazy… it’s actually really hard to focus on just one of these things. Hmmmm…..
Okay, I think my biggest gripe in life is being surrounded by fucktards. Now before you jump on your bandwagon about how politically incorrect that term is, and how insensitive it is… perhaps you should take a step back and pipe the fuck down. Remember, I’m not forcing you to read this, and if you don’t like it, you’re more than welcome to go elsewhere. So I’m going to continue my rant, and you’re just going to accept it.
I’ve dedicated a good number of hours documenting my interactions with these people, and their undeniable stupidity. Seriously, sometimes I wonder how they manage to even make it through the day. It makes my brain hurt. It’s also because of these people that I now have a zero tolerance for stupidity, and will quite happily call somebody out on it – sometimes without even realising that I’m even doing it until it’s too late. It’s really turned into a problem. I actually have a whole series of notes of documented conversations with these people, but I think I need to relocate them from FB to an actual blog instead… share my pain with the world.
Seriously though, how is it even remotely possible for somebody to walk into a reception area on street level and be so convinced that it could even possibly be the second floor? BITCH, HOW MANY FLIGHTS OF STAIRS DID YOU WALK UP?? DID YOU JUST CATCH A LIFT FROM THE FOOTPATH?? YOU STUPID FUCKING DUMBASS!!
Yes, I am more than aware that I let it get to me far too much, and I know I need to let it go, but fuck, it’s just so infuriating. I just sends me into a white-hot, table-flipping rage. All I wanna do is leap across my desk and slap some sense into them. However, I’ve also discovered that some people are just fucking dumb and cannot be helped.
This is how I feel after most telephone conversations at work…
On the flip-side, something that makes me happy. Hmmm… There are so manny different ways I could answer this, but I fear they would all get me into trouble somehow…
One thing that truly does make me happy is dancing. Sometimes it might be the absolute last thing I would want to do, or maybe I really just cannot be bothered, or I’m feeling too angry at the shit day I’ve had… but after a class, I feel so much better. Exhausted, yes, but better. For that hour, nothing else matters. Nothing else exists. It’s just me and the music and rest of the people in that studio, and the outside world ceases to exist. I keep forgetting that I’m not necessarily the only people who may be having a shit day either, and that I’m not the only one who needs this hour of dance as a means to escape; an opportunity to just claim an hour of ‘me’ time. When I make myself remember that, it brings me back to reality, and makes me feel rather humbled that I’m helping somebody else escape whatever bullshit their dealing with, the same way I’m escaping my bullshit.
I think it does change my perspective on the former. It proves that I get far too emotionally involved in people’s stupidity; I let it affect me far more than it really should, and at the end of the day, I shouldn’t be at a point where I need escape time. I know that I’m like this, and I know that I need to change this… it’s just a matter of determine how to actually achieve this.
But until such time, I’ll continue to flip tables in my mind.
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