2002-06-30 - 12:05 a.m.
You missed my bout of car anger. That is, anger in the car that involved bilingual screeches and insults and the occasional fist slammage onto any available surface.
The cause? Work in a distant way but not exactly. Things were half fine despite being on the far end away from help and my weird owwie neck which means I could not turn.
No, the anger was really caused by the return of stalker woman. Summary for the uninitiated: this is woman so obsessed with the idea of me and her son getting together (who I have never even met before, damn net and the ability to unintentionally leave a trail which leads back to my real life) that she has taken to calling a lot, visiting my home, talking to my parents and now in the twist of all twists showing up at my work.
Today was not the first time she had been there even. I knew this because of her heavy czechoslovakian (sp.?) accent had made me wary of her before because I knew stalker woman had such an accent. But no, I thought to myself, there is no way she could be here...
So naive to life's little cruel twists of fate.
The fact that she was here again, and in my line, struck me as odd. The fact that she was in my non-express line, despite only having 12 items (or less...) struck me as weirder.
This alone was enough to make me wary, especially when she subtly started enquiring my life. Conversation went something like this...
StalkerWoman: Must be hard ... work here full time ... so busy...
Me: Yes... but I study also.
SW: Oh? What do you study?
Me: Arts. (More alarm bells - no customer has ever asked me this, because it is impossible for them to imagine that I exist outside of Coles)
SW: *pretends not to hear* What?
Me: Arts... (I see right through this ploy)
SW: Where is that at, here, at Sydney uni?
Me: No. NSW. (Why do you ask when I know you probably already know?)
Turning point is of course when she went to her wallet to get money to give me for groceries. I of course look at her wallet because I need to know whether she is using cash or card. In the wallet I see a picture of a brown haired school boy in a blue shirt and even though I didn't get a good look in a second I knew it was identical to the picture stalker woman gave of her son to my mother.
Further confirmation: as she sees me looking she pulls the wallet out of my view. Too litte too late, I gave her a very plastic "Thank you, have a nice day," as I gave her her change and turned my attention promptly to the next customer.
After I had ascertained that she had left I couldn't stop shaking. Even now I hurt inside because of this outrageously clear violation of personal space... my home... my work .. that only barely leaves uni but still.
I live so much more in my head than most people that I honestly think I'd find being physically raped less disturbing.
I don't mean to underemphasise rape as a horrible horrible thing but I'm saying to me these kind of games which leave me so messed up and have managed to infiltrate and contaminate every sector of my life now ... given a choice I know what I'd choose even though it isn't a sane choice at all really.
Away from this little minefield. Further confirmation from my father who gave me brief physical description of woman. Further confirmation of how this occurred from mother (who I hold much anger/disappointment to also now) who not only told her exactly where I worked but also lied to me about telling her earlier.
Anger at MathsGuy (stalker woman's son) has faded which is a pity because I really needed to use it as motivation to get him (and consequently her) completely and wholly (and not just temporarily) out of my life.
Am left with this permanent ow feeling because of the violation of my beloved space and this hideously constant paranoid feeling of inexplicable fear. And all I can seem to do about it is hide under my blanket, literally.
Although on the bright side, no longer worry about hurting MathsGuy, because no longer care. Isn't that neat? So while I can't bring myself to hurt him I feel even more than fine about letting someone else do it... anyone feel like abusing him? Guestbook me with an email and I'll give you his home and mobile numbers and address if I can find it.
I jest ... maybe.
All I know is I'm suddenly ever so caged and I seem to be running out of oxygen... I don't know how to keep breathing right now, I really really don't.
In other news, my little Turkey secured third place in the World Cup. Was so gleeful and overjoyed for them at the time...
But now everything is overshadowed by the stalking. I just want it all to stop... Maybe if I email MathsGuy I can work my way up to abusive.
Or at least impolite...
The cause? Work in a distant way but not exactly. Things were half fine despite being on the far end away from help and my weird owwie neck which means I could not turn.
No, the anger was really caused by the return of stalker woman. Summary for the uninitiated: this is woman so obsessed with the idea of me and her son getting together (who I have never even met before, damn net and the ability to unintentionally leave a trail which leads back to my real life) that she has taken to calling a lot, visiting my home, talking to my parents and now in the twist of all twists showing up at my work.
Today was not the first time she had been there even. I knew this because of her heavy czechoslovakian (sp.?) accent had made me wary of her before because I knew stalker woman had such an accent. But no, I thought to myself, there is no way she could be here...
So naive to life's little cruel twists of fate.
The fact that she was here again, and in my line, struck me as odd. The fact that she was in my non-express line, despite only having 12 items (or less...) struck me as weirder.
This alone was enough to make me wary, especially when she subtly started enquiring my life. Conversation went something like this...
StalkerWoman: Must be hard ... work here full time ... so busy...
Me: Yes... but I study also.
SW: Oh? What do you study?
Me: Arts. (More alarm bells - no customer has ever asked me this, because it is impossible for them to imagine that I exist outside of Coles)
SW: *pretends not to hear* What?
Me: Arts... (I see right through this ploy)
SW: Where is that at, here, at Sydney uni?
Me: No. NSW. (Why do you ask when I know you probably already know?)
Turning point is of course when she went to her wallet to get money to give me for groceries. I of course look at her wallet because I need to know whether she is using cash or card. In the wallet I see a picture of a brown haired school boy in a blue shirt and even though I didn't get a good look in a second I knew it was identical to the picture stalker woman gave of her son to my mother.
Further confirmation: as she sees me looking she pulls the wallet out of my view. Too litte too late, I gave her a very plastic "Thank you, have a nice day," as I gave her her change and turned my attention promptly to the next customer.
After I had ascertained that she had left I couldn't stop shaking. Even now I hurt inside because of this outrageously clear violation of personal space... my home... my work .. that only barely leaves uni but still.
I live so much more in my head than most people that I honestly think I'd find being physically raped less disturbing.
I don't mean to underemphasise rape as a horrible horrible thing but I'm saying to me these kind of games which leave me so messed up and have managed to infiltrate and contaminate every sector of my life now ... given a choice I know what I'd choose even though it isn't a sane choice at all really.
Away from this little minefield. Further confirmation from my father who gave me brief physical description of woman. Further confirmation of how this occurred from mother (who I hold much anger/disappointment to also now) who not only told her exactly where I worked but also lied to me about telling her earlier.
Anger at MathsGuy (stalker woman's son) has faded which is a pity because I really needed to use it as motivation to get him (and consequently her) completely and wholly (and not just temporarily) out of my life.
Am left with this permanent ow feeling because of the violation of my beloved space and this hideously constant paranoid feeling of inexplicable fear. And all I can seem to do about it is hide under my blanket, literally.
Although on the bright side, no longer worry about hurting MathsGuy, because no longer care. Isn't that neat? So while I can't bring myself to hurt him I feel even more than fine about letting someone else do it... anyone feel like abusing him? Guestbook me with an email and I'll give you his home and mobile numbers and address if I can find it.
I jest ... maybe.
All I know is I'm suddenly ever so caged and I seem to be running out of oxygen... I don't know how to keep breathing right now, I really really don't.
In other news, my little Turkey secured third place in the World Cup. Was so gleeful and overjoyed for them at the time...
But now everything is overshadowed by the stalking. I just want it all to stop... Maybe if I email MathsGuy I can work my way up to abusive.
Or at least impolite...
