Haha! We sold the blessed car! Well, provided the buyer comes and picks it up tomorrow as he said he would.
Of course part of me is gutted. But at the moment I’m just relieved. M managed to get them to raise the price by £200. That’s a man’s touch. I’m a softie and they zero in on that, these used car dealers. It’s not a great price, but I no longer care that much: just want it sold and the money in my account. Well, he’s insisting on having it go to his account in the first instance. He’s gonna give me £1100 out of £1850. Which I have to say is sorta decent of him. If he pulls a fast one, he knows I can go straight to his care coordinator and social worker and complain that he’s ripped me off: he’s on a legal section of the mental health act so he can’tbe seen to commit any misdemeanour basically. Besides he’s been fair and scrupulous before about such matters. He doesn’t trust me to have it go to my account. Which goes with the territory since I’m basically dealing with a psychopath here.
Hey it’s not THAT decent of him anyway, considering I put up all the money for the car in the first place. What high hopes I had back then. I was so chuffed to get a car, even tho’ I don’t drive and it was all done in his name. I know I’ve been a fool. You don’t have to tell me. I was psychotic AND in love…a dangerous combination as you might imagine.
I can sort of see the funny side of all of this.
I feel like staying in and licking my wounds, but I’m meeting a friend for coffee this morning and then in the afternoon attending a course on addiction. As I’ve said before, I don’t think I’ve ever been a true, committed drug addict. But I am very probably a love addict. So hopefully I can apply the lessons I learn to that. Not to mention my fanatical tea and coffee drinking, and vaping on my electronic cigarette.
He just tried with blandishments to get me to have sex with him after ignoring me and being hostile all morning. Take a running jump mate. Beyond belief. I STILL have a pang of pity for him. Old habits die hard and it’s so desperately sad that a human being who I once loved is reduced to that. But I’ve come to see this tendency of mine to see aching vulnerability and pathos in people as actually a weakness, and probably mostly projection on my part. Who wants my pity anyway? I certainly wouldn’t want theirs.
I’m so glad I have you guys to confide in. I really am naturally a communicator, and that’s partly why I suffer a lot from loneliness and bottled-up feelings when too much alone, I guess; surrounded by people too come to think of it. I’m more of a listener than a talker when with friends, and that’s not always good. They have a sounding board but when I want to talk they don’t seem so interested. I have a bit of a pattern like that. I guess that’s why I find refuge and an outlet in this blog and on the Suicide Project, email etc.
Well here we go. Bravely jumping (I can’t dive!) out into the cold water of another day where I have to leave the house and mix with people, walk and bus to places etc. It’s never as bad as I think it’s gonna be. It’s worse, lol. By the way, I apologise to my more literary readers for the lazy practice of using ‘lol’ as shorthand. But I genuinely am maintaining a sense of humour through all of these tribulations, which surely is a good sign.
The car is currently parked outside the house and will not be moved until the buyers come to collect it. The logbook and keys are stashed safely in a drawer. He can’t possibly crash it cause he isn’t driving it. Voluntarily. Like he knows he’s a danger to himself and others behind the wheel. That he (and I) have actually been fortunate to maintain life and limb up till now, and an intact car. The symbol of all my hopes and dreams, about to be dashed to the ground tomorrow when it finally goes. But illusions and delusions were made to be broken. They have to die and we have to move on, sadder and hopefully wiser. It’s healthier that way.
Thanks so much for listening folks. I really do appreciate it.