Broken Record

I have set into motion several steps toward positive changes recently, was even offered a new position at work (still thinking about it), have dived back into some hobbies that I let fall to the side, and have been enjoying making plans with my husband and trying new things.

So it is even more baffling and stunning to me when I see people like Psycho, my stalker, still trotting out the same old song and dance, still playing the same mind-numbingly stupid games, stuck forever in one dysfunctional spot like a broken record, on repeat. Never growing. Never changing. And, quite frankly, too trashy to even care.

Psycho has two ex-husbands, and I have learned that she has added the second ex’s girlfriend to her growing circle of stalking targets. I won’t say much about it, since that is her story to tell, not mine. But I would laugh if it wasn’t so sad and pathetic: same tricks. Same tactics. Same obsession.

The first time I saw Psycho’s car in a parking lot as she followed me, many years ago, or the first time I saw her IP address blow up my blog stats, I was shocked. Who does that? Who is loony enough to actually do that and not be humiliated by her own actions? Who has enough free time and absolutely nothing better to do?

I’ve had over 16 years to see exactly who. Someone with no identity of her own. Someone who is severely insecure and pathologically envious. Someone with no skills, talents, or positive traits she can call her own, because she has never developed herself, too boorishly intent on watching someone else. Someone with the emotional maturity of a stunted toddler, quick to tantrums, incapable of adult thought processes, growth, or genuine connection.

I have watched Psycho lie endlessly, shamelessly manipulate her own children, lash out at my husband simply because he is happier now than he ever was with her. She has been married again and divorced again, in and out of sketchy relationships, and brags about sending questionable photos to men on dating sites.

After 16 years of her stalking, obsessing, gossiping, projecting, and bitching, I now just roll my eyes at her nonsense. She is never going to change. She lacks the ambition to even want to be better than the classless fool that she is. I don’t understand it, but I don’t need to and don’t even want to.

Sometimes, when I look at my blog stats, I see that Psycho was humping my blog at the exact same moment that I was completing a project at work, having lunch with friends, taking a steamy shower with my husband…basically, living my life and being happy, while she drools uselessly over a phone her daddy pays for, hoping desperately for a new post from me, something to clutch onto and live through vicariously and pretend, for one moment, that she is something, anything, but what she really is.

She won’t stop stalking me. I know that. She knows that.

I will log off after posting this and go back to work, go back to my friends, go back to making plans with my husband for the evening, talk about our weekend. I will go home to someone who adores me, who will wrap his arms around me, grab my ass with both hands, and kiss me like he means it.

And her? She will read my blog with a tight-lipped, bitchy glower. She will go back to a mindless job, to an inbred hick town where more and more people know all about her, to a dumpy home that isn’t even hers, and fill her time with rage, tapping angrily on her phone, bullying the kids, and harassing the women that her ex-husbands upgraded to and of whom she is devastatingly, endlessly jealous.

I almost feel sorry for her. But she chooses to be the way she is. She chooses pettiness, bitterness, and delusions each day of her empty life. She has earned each deep frown line and sour wrinkle with her perpetual negativity and nastiness.

Life is for living. It’s about change, growth, improvement, adaptation. It’s about enjoyment, love, discovery. Each day, we are given 24 hours to do with what we choose. I choose to wrap up this post, log off, get back to a productive work day, and look forward to heading home for a fun weekend with my loving husband.

And as for Psycho? Well…I already know what she will choose. Some things (and stagnant people) never change.