Good morning! We have a special treat today. Lola agreed to do a guest post for me!
So she hauled her bag of funny over to my place. At first I wasn't sure if this was going to work because my neighbors are O - L - D, OLD (not you Joy Joy)...and it appears our fresh Lola loves to moon people...and I just put a window in my kitchen!!!! I took that chance and I'm glad I did for she does not disappoint...and my neighbors have been whistling up and down the block...seems our Lola really knows how to put pep in their step!
I now turn my blog keys over to Lola!
Hi! Hi! It's me! It's Lola! I'm not lost! I know my home is really WOMEN: WE SHALL OVERCOME
But Stephanie very kindly invited me to be her guest postess. Being here at Connecting With Stephanie is great because I truly do connect with Stephanie. You see, we have both been married to passive-aggressive narcissists.
Since we have that little factor in common, I decided to write about my ex-asswipe when he acted as if my jokes were shit, but then "forgot" they were mine and told them as if they were his and he was The Shit for being so funny.
One attribute of the passive-aggressive personality is that the partner "forgets" things he is supposed to do, like, in this case, giving credit where credit is due. But it's not simple forgetting. It's a way of causing problems, like majorly pissing me off. I don't know if a psychiatrist would say my ex is passive-aggressive, but I think it fits along with a slew of other diagnoses. Hey, he diagnosed me and said he would see to it that I spent the rest of my life in a mental hospital. I'm definitely not in a mental hospital, so I think I'll spend at least a few minutes out of the rest of my life writing about why he's such an idiot, should be in a mental hospital, or at least take the medication prescribed for him.
Here's what happened:
During the last 10 - 15 years of my marriage when I discovered people thought I was really funny, as in You are the funniest person I've ever met, sometimes I would make little jokes or comments when we were with a group of friends. The man with the small penis would get this pained expression on his face and shake his head at me and sometimes even tell me to stop, whining at me in front of everyone to quit as if I were being incredibly rude and obnoxious instead of making people laugh. Occasionally, he would even make a big display of stomping away in disgust.
I found this behavior quite humiliating, but eventually I started saying, Oh just cut it out. Or in private I might say, Don't fucking tell me what to do.
The change in my behavior came about because I noticed that after I said something funny, two or three days later I might hear t.m.w.t.s.p. repeating my joke to someone else without attributing it to me. He acted as if the funny line was all his idea and laughed as if it were hilarious. I wanted to slap the laugh right off his stupid face.
His real problem was that he couldn't stand for me or anyone else to top him. I also heard him repeat other people's jokes back to them and act as if he had made them up. It didn't exactly win him friends.
Anything I did, he had to claim he did it better.
Oh I used to play that, he'd say when I played my most difficult piece on the piano. He took piano lessons for a couple of years and could barely play. I took lessons for ten years and was already playing when I started lessons because my older sisters had started me on the piano at home.
Early in our relationship when I foolishly told him what my IQ is, and it's not too shabby, he claimed his was off the charts.
He always had to know more than I did. Always had to be the expert on everything. When I told him about existentialism, he researched it and then claimed he had learned about it from his girlfriend.
That was the real killer.
As some friends from our religious circle said, He always has to be in control. He always has to be the smartest person in the group.
I have news for him that he will probably never understand.
No one is in control all the time.
You cannot control other people. You can try, but it will end in misery.
You might be the smartest person in the group sometimes, but not always, and you don't have to be.
If you were so smart, then you wouldn't have lost me. And P.A.N., you wouldn't have lost Stephanie.
Infinities of love,