Today, I think I am thankful for narcissists.
I'm not sure.
But, maybe there is some silver lining in everything about them. I mean, that need for adoration can be easily manipulated.
I'm hurt.
I did my due diligence. I told everyone who the stalker was. That way the wrong people don't get arrested if something happens to me. The targets know who it is and they know to call the cops.
My ex has blamed everyone else. He blamed my high school sweetheart. He blamed the minister of a local church. He blamed the one armed man.
He's blamed everybody except the idiots he put up to it.
So....it dawned on me today that he has mentioned seeing his members of his family drive by the house.
We've found religious artifacts on the porch (his sister is allegedly trying to make me join a cult). This may actually be a good idea, it would be an excuse for him to sign the divorce papers.
There was a gps box on my car.
I think they've been to the house.
We have to sell the house.
This is huge. He wants me to stay married to him so that I can live in this house and help the kids finish school here.
We are in danger here.
He swears up and down that he isn't the stalker. The stalker has been to the house.
If he is the stalker, he can control it. He can get help and the kids can stay here.
If it is his psycho sister, he can't control it. We are in danger and must move. I reasoned that I can divorce him since the only reason he wants me to stay is so the kids can stay in this house.
I think I short-circuited his brain.
Now, he wants me to stay because he fantasizes about doing something orally to me on the couch in his basement apartment.
I told him that I fantasize about eating a lot of beans.
Sigh...
I have to trust you before you can go there.
He was caught in another lie this morning. I don't trust him as far as I can throw a 450 pound man.
Let's see....
So now the task becomes how to get out of here, let his family save face and make a huge joke about the stalking.
Should I give Groucho Marx glasses to the targets? I mean, they follow me when I'm on lunch outings with male colleagues. Perhaps, when we see them, we could wear the funny stuff and give them something to look at?
Or should I master John Cleese's funny walk?
If I really wanted to get under their skins, I'd dress like a slut but I have a lot of respect for my fellow man. So, I won't unless I can find heavy duty body make-up. The stuff at MAC doesn't cover enough; I think the stuff I use needs to be something akin to flesh colored spackle.
I don't know....
Narcissists hate embarrassment. Maybe not embarrassment, per se, but they hate to be wrong and they hate being ridiculed. Maybe if I made a joke out of their crap, they'd leave me alone.
I'll find the perfect thing. Right now, I carry a headband made of two red-sequined demon ears in a book bag full of pagan symbols. My aunt made the bag for me. She's just as ornery as me!
I can't wait to practice my latin on them.
Asinus Stultus! Oh, sorry....that's the one I use on libtard professors. It means stupid donkey. There is one for dorkmuffin Repugnicans...
Caudex! (Idiot)
Hmmmm.....how about....
Nihil nequius est te! (You're the most worthless thing or something like that )
They run around claiming that I'm a satanic witch. I may as well play the part.
Hmmmm....maybe I need to go buy a wand or something.
Love ya,
S.