By way of introduction, if you’ve never been to any of my other blogs and aren’t already familiar with my writing, ‘The Ordeal’ is how I refer to the period of my life post 2011.
Casper is my nickname for my ex husband—‘Casper The Ghost’. During the period of ‘The Ordeal’ I was lost in space and trying to figure out which end was up as a direct result of my husband’s heinous ghosting of our 29 year marriage/ life together.
If this is the first post you are reading, I need to disclose that this is not a narcissistic abuse recovery blog. Rather, it is a HUMOR site. Humor about my story. So, depending on where you may be in your journey, and how fresh your wounding may be, this may not be the right site for you.
This is a site for me to tell my crazy yet humorous story, long after the fact—after I have had a lot of time to heal. If detailed information and personal support are what you need, there are plenty of other excellent sites that may help you on the internet. Many of them are here within the WordPress.com community itself.
Those bloggers and those sites do an excellent job of providing a touchstone for those of you still reeling at the hands of dastardly devils. They are a good start at getting yourself reoriented back to reality. I highly recommend you find several and that you become a part of a community.
This blog is purely for entertainment and creativity purposes—a vehicle to indulge my somewhat twisted sense of humor and creativity, drawing upon the events of my very real (and also once tragic) experiences.
To tell you about me, I am a card-carrying member of the Brokenhearted Fools Club. Ms. Humpty Dumpty here got chumped—big time. I was a the quintessential ‘mark’ for emotional manipulation. Look up any of the words below in the dictionary and you’ll no doubt either see a picture of me, or at least find me notated in the reference section.
No doubt about it, I was a schmuck, dolt, dimwit, Pollyanna, blockhead, boob, sucker, … you get the drift. I’m not afraid to admit it. Admitting a problem is the first step in fixing that problem. Today I don’t even care if people laugh at me, because the truth is, I WAS all those things! (Notice that I didn’t say I ‘am‘ those things?) It took a series of harsh face-plants to the pavement at the hands of this guy to wise up, but I eventually did.
Prior to ‘The Ordeal’, I was an otherwise intelligent professional woman. How I got here (chumped so badly) was that I willingly put all my eggs in one basket several decades prior. Sigh … Yes, I was so love-struck and starry-eyed that I willingly gulped down all of Casper’s propaganda, especially that ’till death do us part’ enticement and emotional hook. (Pardon me, I just threw up in my mouth a bit and I need to clear my throat.)
Now where was I? Oh yes, how I got here … Well, because I had my identity squirreled away in one place (in my relationship with him), I fell off the wall and shattered into a billion pieces when he capriciously up and left one day with no notice.
If anyone reading this leans to the conspiracy side of things—you’ve probably already sniffed out the story line. Yep, you’re right. I was pushed! Go ahead. Alert the tabloids. I could use a royalty check about now. (Smile.)
Seriously though, as I hit the ground, shards of my (thought-to-be) time-tested/happy marriage and stable home life flew everywhere. I quickly learned that the the steel girders that (I erroneously thought) underpinned my ‘happily-ever-after’ weren’t anywhere close to being up to code.
Lacking the tensile strength to maintain any kind of upright structure, they succumbed to catastrophic failure, just like The Twin Towers on Sept 11th in New York City. Bricks from the wall where I had been so happy to reside were thrown everywhere—blown apart by the impact of Casper’s sudden announcement.
One by one, even the few reinforced girders that were left standing made that creepy eery noise and slowly toppled to the ground as well. And there it all lay. Everything I’d known as my life for decades was reduced to a pile of rubble on the ground. Not a very pretty site.
So, while I was still coughing and trying to find my bearings amidst the smoke and falling debris, Casper and Satan’s Mistress boarded a plane and jetted off to another continent—laughing a raucous cackle. They’d pulled it off! They could now kick back and relax without the ex wife mucking things up. Phase One was completed. They delegated Phase Two of my take-down to a subcontractor, their friend, The Wicked Witch of the ‘West’.
By the time the tail of their jet disappeared into the clouds, flying monkeys had already been dispatched and were beginning to circle overhead in tight formation. The only thing missing from my real-life movie trailer was the haunting echo and added threat of, ‘And I’ll get your little doggie too!’
Since I’d never been an animal person, there was no little doggie for The Wicked Witch or her monkeys to come after. So all you dog lovers can breathe a sigh of relief. There’s a cute little Fluffy or Fifi out there, still alive and kicking—still enjoying his/her daily ration of Alpo.
The fine print: Absolutely no animals were harmed in the making of this tragedy.
This post was written in February 2015 and was originally posted in another blog