Firstly, I’m sorry I’ve had you all concerned about my wellfare (again). Ohmygod when is this chick gonna get her shit together! Well, probably never. But you were all there for me during my meltdown and I thank you for putting up with me and loving me no matter what. As of right now, I’m good. I have a strategy, the emotional crisis is over, and hopefully I can shed some light on what went down that had me so derailed.
Let’s start at the beginning. I wrote this poem last night, never expecting the shit to hit the fan this morning.
you call me ‘needy’?
you seedy little man
with your doomsday prepper plans
and your hens and your chickens
your unacknowledged fear that sickens
you are greedy and sleazy, and your text messages are leery
you think you have power?
you’ve never seen a bipolar shower rage against your misbehave
you creepy little runt
friendliness all a front
for what you stand to gain
lording over your domain
you are tight-fisted and your image of me is twisted
you’ve pegged me wrong ‘cos I am strong
don’t underestimate my fight
my bark is silent compared to my bite
NOW FIX THE FUCKING GATE
BEFORE I TRULY GET IRRATE
Before the shit hit the fan
Crime in South Africa is horrific. I’m sure our reputation recedes this preamble. A favourite criminal pastime is carjacking. As you arrive at your driveway, the crooks jump out the bushes, and feel nothing to kill you in exchange for your car. So every homeowner/renter has an automatic gate and a clear verge. As you approach your driveway you press your little remote, the gate opens, and you swoop into the safety of your property unscathed.
Meet my landlord:
He’s a doomsday prepper, ex-cop negotiator turned real-estate agent (bullshitter) who claims to own many properties. He claims he can sum up a person in the first 10 seconds of meeting them, a super power courtesy of his super duper police negotiator skills . His ‘professional’ judgement – Lover is a narcissist (duh) and apparently I’m needy.
(He first met me when I was going through venlafaxine withdrawal. So that’s obviously what going through the withdrawal looks like – needy. Hmm, yesss, needy to vomit, neeeedy to shit myself, neeeedy to scratch at the imaginary bugs on my arms. Yes, neeeeedy)
I’ve been living here for 5 months now and my firsthand experience with him is, he’s controlling and likes to play mind games. My gut finds him creepy, overfamiliar and bordering on inappropriate. He is tight-fisted and won’t spend money to fix ANYTHING. He’ll drag it out for as long as possible. He is a LIAR. And I DESPISE liars. He dodges things, selective in what he does and doesn’t do. I’ve been asking for a copy of my lease since I moved in and…. nothing.
There were two main problems discovered on settling in here:
-electrical fault with the lights – fire danger. Took him 3 months with much hounding to get it fixed.
-automatic gate kept getting stuck, personal safety danger. Well, the gate is now so bad it doesn’t open at all. I have to park my car in the road, walk up the drive, making sure there’s no evil lurking in his jungle of a verge, and wrestle with the gate to get it open. Its heavy and hard to manhandle. And then when I work late, do this in the dark. Lovely
For FIVE MONTHS NOW, he’s had me like a donkey with a carrot on a string – promises, quotes, ordering parts. But lately its been excuses “too expensive” and “its not in my budget”. Now for a bipolar with a penchant for rage? I’ve been very fucking patient thus far.
So the issue at hand is my personal safety. Let’s talk hijacking. If I’m hijacked and they happen to kill me…. need I say, you all know I’m suicidal… you know where I’m going with this. BUT, while its not in his budget to fix his rent-paying tenant’s gate, its not in my fucking budget to have my car stolen AND THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT I TOLD HIM TODAY.… after I broke a perfect good pair of fucking shoes trying to open his fucking stupid gate. I was pulling and pushing so hard, I PULLED THE SOLES OF MY SHOES RIGHT OFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!
Aaaand there goes the shit hitting the fan
I shouted for him over the fence. No response. I send texts. No response. Only when I was at work did I receive a response that he demands a meeting with me to “set some things straight”. Let’s add to his personal traits that HE’S A FUCKING COWARD AND A BULLY. I phoned him. My friend was with me, she said I did everything right. There will be no meeting. I told him he intimidates me and I just want a copy of my lease and the gate fixed. He’s lied about the terms of the lease. Originally it was a 12 month lease. Now he says its a month to month ie if I don’t like the gate I must fuck off. Which is exactly what I’m gonna do. My oath to god, I signed a 12 month lease. When Lover left me with this rental its been the biggest problem for me. And now he changes the rules. Because it suits him. All this time I’ve been struggling AND HE KNEW IT, and now he tells me oooooh no, its a month to month. If I’d known that I would have left months ago. Also, I felt it was a veiled threat that he wants to evict me. I said “so are you saying you want me gone” and all he would reply was “I can’t say that”????? What kinda answer is I “can’t” say that? Well, my world fell apart. Humpty Dumpty fell off the wall and had a great fall. But with a little help from my friends and Linkin Park today, Pieces has been put back together again. I will be moving in with my friend in August until I can find a LOVELY place to stay.
Moral of the story
I am done with men (ab)using and controlling me for their own agendas. He wanted me to be needy for the benefit of his own ego. So he could be the knight in rusty armour (its not in his budget to buy polish to shine his armour) that would ‘rescue’ me. But that’s not who I am. And we discussed ‘who am I’ in therapy today.
I’LL TELL YOU THIS MUCH I’VE FIGURED OUT SO FAR…… I AM THE FRIENDLY DOG WHO WILL WAG ITS TAIL FOR YOU. I’M OPEN AND I’M HONEST AND I’M KIND AND IF YOU PLAY YOUR CARDS RIGHT YOU CAN GET TO SCRATCH MY TUMMY. BUT IF YOU PULL MY FUCKING TAIL, DON’T GET ANGRY WITH ME WHEN I BITE YOU.