I have been keeping a secret for a while and so has my youngest daughter. We have always been in touch, but to save her from the certain bullying she would receive from Loser and most likely, her sisters, I asked her to keep things quiet. She agreed, although she is not one for outright lying. I think she understood my reasoning was for her protection.
I have also come up with delightfully new and accurate descriptive monikers for Loser and that WTC. They are now called the puppet and the puppet-master. Those names occurred to me when I was talking to my RBS.
I was remembering how, after almost forty-one years together, the puppet suddenly became afraid of me. Now, this man always outweighed me by more than a hundred pounds and was just shy of a foot taller than I am. The puppet-master manipulated him into being afraid of me by suggesting that I might “shoot him” if he came to see me. I have never seen anybody back-peddle so fast when I told him that I KNEW it was HER who had put that idea into his mind. Explanations and apologies were abundant in his future emails.
I think the worst was when the puppet-master manipulated the puppet into questioning my morality. She tried to make me a whore by suggesting to him that I “could have gotten Herpes from anybody.” She was trying to paint me as somebody who was no better than she or the puppet. If she and the puppet were out fucking other people, then I had to be, too. According to him, she even told him that I was “probably accusing him to try to get money out of him.”
WOW! She’s one to talk. Deflections from her to me. “I’m not the tramp…your wife is…and by the way, honey. My taxes are due…can you help me out?”
Never in a million years would I have ever thought that big, tall, strapping man would turn into nothing but a puppet who let somebody else control and manipulate his life and thoughts. If she says “jump”…he asks “how high.” If he fails to honor her wishes, she punishes him.
If she plants an idea in is head, it takes root and becomes truth.
I’ll admit…it kind of makes me happy. Now…HE is the victim of a narcissist.
Several months ago, it was decided that Shoe would come up and stay with me for several weeks this summer. The other day, #3 called me and said “did you hear about dad?” (How was I going to hear about that prick?) She said he texted her and asked her if she was ready to meet the puppet-master.
True to her word, she said no. I didn’t know this but after the puppet started shacking up with the puppet-master, he told #3 to “take care of your mama.” Wasn’t that HIS fucking job? Oh, right. He was taking care of his new dependent…the one who can’t afford to pay her own taxes or tuition.
He is taking the puppet-master to Florida to celebrate all the June birthdays (not mine, of course.) After #3 told him she wasn’t meeting the puppet-master, he asked if they could see Shoe. #3 said “he’s not going to be here.” The puppet asked if he was going to be at camp or something. #3 said “no.” The puppet said “where’s he going to be?” #3 didn’t answer.
We talked about it and I said “you know what? Just tell that mother fucker that Shoe is going to be with me.” She said “okay.” She texted him and simply said “at Ma’s.” It took him a while to respond and he did with “well, that’s just great.” I don’t know if it was prefaced or with the same venom he spewed out last time…“that’s brilliant #3! Total selfish bullshit, but brilliant!”
Without even having to call Sam and ask him to translate….I know EXACTLY what it meant. It meant “YOUR MOM’S A FUCKING BITCH” and unfortunately, I suspect he was saying the same thing about #3. How dare she deprive him of the chance to pretend to be the loving grandpa?
My dear friend, Deb had an interesting take on this. She said since none of this was pre-planned, maybe the universe was shining on me. It worked out in that the puppet isn’t going to be able to pretend to care about the grandson he couldn’t even take time to talk to…and the puppet-master isn’t going to be able to “win” Shoe over with her pretentiousness…(or mournfully say…like she did about #3…”I just don’t want him to hate me.” Sniff, sniff.)
I can just hear the puppet saying to the puppet-master, “oh, darlin’. They don’t hate you. Their loyalty is just a little misplaced right now. When they finally realize how wonderful you are and how completely insane she is, they’ll come around.”
I know this puppet and that’s exactly the kind of thing he would say.
For her loyalty, #3 has suffered abuse and will most likely continue to suffer abuse. I reminded her what the puppet said: “If my children don’t want to see HER, then THEY’RE NOT GOING TO SEE THEIR DADDY.” He used that tactic with my son….and it worked.
She said “he’s not going to say that to me.”
She said “you’re my ma. YOU were the one who sat up and talked to me for hours at four o’clock in the morning, telling me I was going to be okay, when I was having a panic attack. YOU were the one who didn’t make me feel like the only thing I was good for was to be the homecoming queen. YOU were the one who told me that I was beautiful…AND smart…AND gifted.”
I know though, that the acquisition of #3 would be the ultimate “get” for the puppet-master. My son was difficult, but the puppet used blackmail tactics and my sons’ life-long hunger for attention, to help her “get” him.
My two oldest and their husbands welcome the puppet and his master with open arms. I have to say…I cannot be in anybodys’ life who openly embraces the very people who were so destructive in mine.
The puppet verbally bashes my child because she is loyal to me….even after he instructed her to be just that. The puppet-master questions my right to encroach upon “her territory” and suggests that her moral turpitude is shared by me…and the puppet allows it. The drunken former MIL said “I know for a fact that (the puppet) loves you dearly”…while the WTC was fucking my husband in her home.
So…the secret’s out. I only hope that #3 isn’t punished beyond what she can tolerate.