Correspondence

The ex-boyfriend

Rach was now back at work, feeling good and optimistic about the future, but as fate would have it, barely a couple of months later all hell was to be unleashed embodied in the form of Keith B. that could not have come at a worse time. Rachael was still vulnerable and with no doctor in sight, while I had no inkling of what I was to be up against, and no idea of what to do.

Enter Mr Grubby 

It was a dreary, rainy Sunday afternoon that Rach and I were sitting in the lounge having a chat and watching a bit of Telly when her mobile phone rang, and upon answering it I heard her say, “No, not today, it’s a bit too cold, some other time maybe.” I enquired as to whom it was, and she said it was Keith, and that they had had a coffee together the day before.

“Keith was Rachael’s first boyfriend seventeen years earlier. They lost contact when she had left for Warrnambool. He had recently been ringing her brother Patrick trying to get her number and after knocking him back several times, it seems Patrick had relented and given it to him. Who gives out personal numbers without permission?"

About twenty minutes later the phone rang again, and once again it was Keith, who now wanted to visit to bring Rachael a present. Rachael gave him the green light, and a split second later could be heard a rap at the front door, and the cause for some consternation, as Rachael hadn’t given him the address and he had evidently followed her home the day before. Rachael made excuses for him; about making sure she arrived home safely. “Bollocks Rach, it's stalking and not to be taken lightly."

So, I opened the front door to an exceptionally filthy little person who last washed when Noah set sail, and who just barged right past me with a parcel under his arm that he proceeded to unwrap. It was evidently Rachael’s present, and it was thoughtful of him to save her all that trouble and excitement of unwrapping her it herself. He was quite manic, and as he rearranged the furniture to make room, he explained that the contraption he was unpacking was a stand that miraculously transformed an ordinary outdoor road bike into a spiffy indoor exercise bike. Its purpose he said was to build up stamina and strength for road cycling, something we had coincidentally both mastered some decades earlier.

Rachael chortled away unfazed by it all, but not me, I couldn't see any funny side. There was a sly parasite in our home attempting to use a past relationship in order to make a play for Rachael. What surprised me was that she would even give him the time of day, as she seemed rather annoyed when she first learned he had been trying to contact her, while he was literally caked in filth from head to toe, looking as though he had just crawled out of a trashcan, and reeked of nicotine due to his three pack a day habit.

Once Keith had finished assembling his gift, destined to be tomorrow's rubbish, we sat down for a bit of a chat, where he launched into a misogynistic monologue about how all woman were cock teasing parasites born to bleed men dry, and how he would exact revenge upon them by bedding them two at time. After having had his way with them, he would then dress and leave without a word, causing them great distress and mental anguish presumably, he didn't elaborate on that bit.

There was no reason to doubt Keith's commitment to his brethren, even if he was a bit hard on the nose. If he said he regularly had threesomes to avenge the downtrodden sexploited male of the species, who have been ruthlessly set upon by predatory parasitic women since before time began, intent on bleeding us dry to the last.....all I have to say on the matter is, better him than me. For as worthy a cause as it, I just don't have the energy to be able to "do it" for the good of all mankind.

The Quest

The entire extent of “Sir Grubby’s” noble quest consisted of harassing Rachael’s brother for her phone number until he couldn’t bear it any longer and finally capitulated, and in gifting her some contraption that he had laying about the place or had nicked.

Sir Grubby was engaged in relentless campaign of love bombing(1), and was laying it on thick; he had even recorded a song for Rachael on his mobile. He was a singer in a band, or so he said, and it was the mobile phone accounted for the poor sound quality and lack of any talent whatsoever. What shocked me most of all was that this cynical transparent ruse this repugnant little parasite was engaged in was working, as his idealized worship of her was a drug she just could not resist.(2)

Keith was as desperate as they came and within the hour he had proposed marriage. Rachael said she needed time to think about it, but he would hear none of it, and demanded an answer then and there. The next thing I knew they were engaged to be married. The lovebirds had much to talk about now, plans to be made - and after a short while, emotionally drained and bewildered I went to bed

The next thing I remember was waking at about 6.00am to the sound of their chatter, Keith was in another misogynistic rant that was just too much and I just snapped. I got out of bed and told him I knew what he was up to and in the end had to forcibly throw him out. He tried to lure Rachael to go with him, and I dare say she would have if I didn’t intervened, not that I had the right to tell Rachael whom she could and could not see, but this could only end in a disaster and I was going to try and talk some sense into her before she got herself into trouble. I was soon to realise that sense and reason had left the building, and that I was confronted with the maladaptive behaviour associated with BPD and no idea how to handle it.

I didn’t take long for Keith to get his hooks into her, as he set about completely dominating her life. He replaced me as her next of kin wherever appropriate and immediately purchased engagement rings to secure his hold over her. Rachael paid for everything as he had nothing and she even loaned him $750 that she was never to see again. The worst of it was that the money spent was money Rachael had saved over months for a medical procedure she required to remove nasal polyps that were causing her significant problems, something that was of no concern to Keith whatsoever. As I did the finances I moved the remaining funds before they were all gone, most of which were allocated to our monthly expenses; her savings had been all but wiped out already.

Keith sought complete domination over Rachael and I was considered a threat that needed to be neutralized, and so he embarked on a character assassination campaign, making reports to the police that I was holding Rachael captive and trying to convince her that I was a parasite who was only interested in getting my hands on her property. She was staying with him nintey percent of the time and he followed her everywhere she went. I was very worried about Rachael and realised that my hostility to Keith was counter-productive and so I rang Rachael and apologised for causing her grief and told her I was prepared to bury the hatchet with Keith, she then wrote me the following letter.

Click on image to enlarge

A day or so later Rachael and Keith come over and we smokem peace pipe and normal relations were resumed. The important thing was to have unfettered contact with Rachael at all times.

Rachael and Keith were temporarily staying at his parent’s while they were overseas, as Keith had been living in half-way houses for years. They had planned to move into her unit and were only waiting on the tenants to vacate. In the meantime Keith's parents arrived home and it was goodbye free accommodation, as he did not have permission to stay there, to the contrary he had a long history of using and abusing his parents and they had as little to do with him as possible.

"This song was written during the split when I thought I had lost her, and the feelings of hopeless and despair in being unable to break through the BPD/NPD 'dance'."

She was a friend to me Play


 Rach and Keith stayed with me in the meantime, and when it came moving they asked me to move in with them, but I didn't think it right somehow and declined like an idiot. Rach and I still saw each other every other day, either I would visit her, or she would come down me and we would go out. One time when I was bed ridden with the flu for a couple days, she had left thirteen phone messages on my home phone in two days the sweetie pie.

For my birthday that year Rachael went to a lot of trouble cooking up a feast and buying me a great piece of artwork as a present as well. But things were soon to take a turn for the worst and the last times we were to spend together were a leisurely Sunday browse about the South Melbourne market, where we brought each other our last Christmas gifts, and our last outing was a Christmas barbeque at Werribee Park Zoo the following week.

"Rachael's all time favourite 'pick me up' film that Minxamena and I watched with her more times that we can remember."


(1) Love not bombs: LOVE BOMBING.

(2)  Codependency & Pathological Loneliness: Why We Stay with Narcissists.

Codependents & Narcissists cannot resist their relationship

 

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