Yes, dear readers, I am still on the phone with Dorothy. I’m getting tired, my head is heavy, but happy to have been able to talk to somebody about my inner demons.
“Mr Threesome isn’t suggesting a new threesome date,” I complain. “The Marta seaside hotel Eric mix-up is not fun and no coincidence looking back.”
“Yes. Maybe he has changed his mind or he thinks he is meeting me as the other party,” Dorothy reflects.
At this I giggle again : “Well he’s in for a surprise!”
“Really not. Why no coincidence?” Dorothy wants to know.
“Mr Threesome can’t get me,” I state defensively. “Marta cancelled… same hotel same day… come on, very fishy!”
“Is she also into dungeon sex?” Dorothy asks the obvious.
“She never talked about sex,” I tell her to truth. “That was part of her dark past.”
“No erotic conversations?” Dorothy asks to be certain.
“Nooooo!” I exclaim.
“Did you tell her about Eric?” Dorothy enquires.
“Yoga, sprituality and meditation. That’s what we talked about.” I state again. “And no, I didn’t tell her about Eric.”
“Does she know you know Eric?” Dorothy pushes further.
“Yes I remember,” Dorothy acquiesces.
“And Marta couldn’t understand why I refused,” I recount.
“Did she know the full story?” Dorothy is trying to make me see the light.
“No,” I say reluctantly. “I never shared that.”
“Ok then I understand,” Dorothy says cheerfully.
“I still don’t like talking abou Eric,” I admit. “It gets me very anxious every time.”
“He is dead to you.” Dorothy tells me firmly.
“What do you understand?” I want to know.
“That she couldn’t understand,” Dorothy goes on.
“Dead except that he lurks at the back of my mind,” I don’t like admitting this, but it is so. “I want to heal from all of that.”
“Time to kill him off metaphorically,” Dorothy advises me.
“I thought I had peace of mind but I don’t.” My mood is getting darker by the minute. “How?”
“Make a ritual.” Dorothy tells me coolly.
“Like what?” I want to know. “I could never do that alone. Will need someone to hold my hand.”
“Well take something that represents Eric to you. Turn him or it into a Viking and burn it. As you burn it you say the following. I loved you, I forgive you and I forget you. I give you back to the universe in good hands and wish you everything if the best on your journey. Good bye for ever. Do this on the night of a new moon at 10.30 pm.” Dorothy says almost in one breath and with an air of authority in the occult.
“A Viking?” I ask her. “So Marc didn’t get me pregnant and then left me because Eric told him to?”
“If you have a photo that would be best. Viking burials were done on a long boat or raft and set on fire.” Dorothy tells me wisely. She’s referring to my strong Viking genes of course.
“Oh my, I am really sad.” I am not proud of the state I currently find myself in.
“Are you serious about Marc and Eric now?” Dorothy sounds like a mixture of worried, angry and irritated. Why do I always irritate her?
“I can get very scared at times,” I confide in her. “Not proud of this at all.”
“I know,” Dorothy susses me.
“Like the stalker in the bushes,” I remind Dorothy of my recent scary episode. “Sometimes I’m scared of going to sleep. I sleep with a hockey stick.”
“Get a dog and fire the cat.” Dorothy laughs at me.
I giggle again in reply : “I should.”
“Your kids would love a little dog,” Dorothy coaxes me to adopt the idea.
“They would too,” I support the suggestion.
“A little poodle. They are clever dogs and very protective.” Dorothy suggests.
“Yuk!” I spit out.
“Why yuk?” Dorothy asks me.
“I would like a Sheba Enu like Suzi,” I tell her. “Poodles are ugly. One bit me when I was little. It got jealous.”
“That’s as dumb as they come,” Dorothy dismisses my objections.
“Bit my wrist,” I painfully recall. “Still have the mark.”
“Ok then a dog from the shelter that chooses your kids,” Dorothy keeps steering me away from the beautiful Sheba Enu.
“Or maybe it’s a chicken pox mark.” I say thoughtfully rubbing my wrist as if I am reliving the incident from when I was 5.
“You are funny!” Dorothy’s laugh chimes down the phone.
“No no, I want a Sheba Enu like Suzi,” I confirm again. “Going to try to sleep. Thanks for putting up with me. And my stupid questions. I do realize I sound wacko, you know.”
“OK sleep tight. Stop worrying. Marta is just out for her own self gain. That’s all.” Dorothy reassures me.
“Sleep tight and wonderful dreams!” I wish Dorothy good night.
The sound of friendly kisses being blown down the phone.
We all have to things in our life that we don’t want to talk about. The easiest solution is to change the way we think about it.
We all have days when we are faced with our inner demons, our fears, our paranoia. At times like these, it’s easy to get into a bad mood and stay in one as we keep spiralling in the negative feedback loop in our heads. However, our bad mood will most likely make things worse. Which is why we should try to shift our attitude instead. As the song goes It ain’t what you do, it’s the way that you do it.
You can shift your attitude by considering how much you love your home and how lucky you are to have a roof over your head and food on the table. All you have to do is shift your perspective, and your attitude follows shortly behind.
What do you think? How do you deal with your inner demons? Let me know in the comments below.
* Disclaimer : Any resemblance between the fictional characters in this story and any persons, living or dead, is a miracle by chance more than by choice.