Getting Back On The Humor Super Highway
A few years ago I went through a very dark period of my life. Some refer to it as The Dark Night Of The Soul … Dark in that I experienced betrayal from every side … Dark in that I experienced grief of biblical proportions. I was ghosted by my husband after decades of marriage. Poof! No warning. Gone forever.
Intractable hopelessness took center stage in my life until I healed. Depression and PTSD sapped every ounce of my precious creativity. Gone was the vivacious fun-loving woman, full of the spit and vinegar that for so long had long defined me. Mortally wounded and grievously hurt, I failed to armor up and set the record straight when under attack. Mentally and emotionally exhausted, I let way too many things slide. No more. [Nefarious grin.]
The Power Plant Comes Back Online
I author a number of anonymous blogs and Youtube channels where I indulge my humor about what happened. These outlets give me free rein to mitigate some nasty wrongdoings using only a little acerbic wit.
I put these various sites up for cathartic reasons, not to garner readership. As such, I have never really promoted them. I doubt that many people even know where they are. I have no idea if any of the folks I write about have ever been to my sites—let alone know that I derive such consolation and entertainment in satirizing them. Not to sound impudent, but I really don’t care. Having been a Pollyanna for far too long, I don’t consider their thoughts on the matter. I apologize to no one for my what I have written or will write. Cause you see, the things I write about are my thoughts … my opinions … my experiences … and my perspectives.
Smarter Than The Average Bear
What makes it even more fun to write about is that back when I was at the center of their feeding frenzy, the piranhas erroneously believed that they were being so stealth. They thought they were flying under my radar with their subterfuge. Well, they weren’t. I was well aware of all of their malevolent games, political posturing, and slanderous comments. Emotionally, I was hemorrhaging too much to clap back. But times do change, don’t they?
Riddle Me This
Quick … complete this old saying: He who laughs best … laughs what? ________ [fill in the blank]. Speak up, ya’ll! I can barely hear you.
Bingo! The answer is: laughs last. Yes sir-ee Bob, this whole ‘Ordeal’ was a real knee-slapper for me, I must say.
But, now that I’ve uncovered the irony of it all, I’m telling my story to the whole world for the entertainment value of it. I’m just one in a long line of folks who have been targeted by a narcissist.
I’m not the only one to ever have been cheated on, ghosted, and left wondering what happened.
But, hey, I’ve always been one to give back. And now that I’ve started healing, I have a unique ‘insider’ prospective on the fun to be had by doing the cha-cha with Dante and his dance troupe of devils. And parts of it are downright funny. Isn’t it funny how bad actors love it when they are doing the humiliating, but they’re not so happy when the tables are turned, and the joke’s on them.
That day has arrived. I’m being silent no more.
Like Pooh said, “Think … Think …. Think …”
So, as I tell my story, I’m going to leave it up to every reader’s imagination—to wonder who I may be referring to as I lampoon my ex, his flying monkeys, et al. It’s a big wide world out there. I don’t use real names or places so I could be describing any number of people. I’ll let ya’ll wonder:
- Who is my ex husband, Mr. Cheater Pants?
- Who are the backstabbers who so eagerly enlisted to become flying monkeys?
- Who is The Other Woman that I affectionately refer to as ‘Satan’s Mistress’?
- Who are my former bosses who tried to legally blackmail me?
- Who are the gossip mongering, malicious direct reports that I parody?
- Who are my employer’s licensed professional advisors I talk about?
- Who are my former so-called ‘frenemies’?
Mum’s The Word
Well, you’ll never know for sure … cause I’ll never tell. I will leave this warning. If any of you anonymously-referenced twits who appear in my story ever happen across this blog and find that the details of my satire eerily familiar, all I can say is “Oh well.” You didn’t think your antics could stay hidden forever did you? Not a chance. I’ll leave you with this the iconic line from the 1965 movie classic: ‘I know who you are … and I saw what you did.’
My parting thoughts to the people I write about. All of you are idiots—a real joke. But I do suppose I should thank you for being such big idiots because you left behind a treasure trove of comedic material for me to mine for years to come. And frankly, it just feels good to be able to laugh again—at you!
written in 2015