I have my phone bill itemised. It means that I can check up on my phone usage, and the phone usage of my housemates. This is how I caught my ex-husband cheating on me. Should the occasion ever arise, I am sure I will utilise its neatly laid out rows of numbers and costings to accuse my children of flagrant disregard of the household budget and will withhold privileges until such a time as their excessive use be paid for.
But just for now, its pretty much me who uses the phone. BF has a gazillion free minutes on his mobile, and a phone in his studio, and the children have to ask if they need to phone someone. I often use the phone in my office, or my mobile or email people to keep up to date with them
A quick glance through the bill showed the following usage for the last three months:
Calls to my mother: 9, total minutes spent getting told off: 28
To my ex husband: 14, total minutes spent saying what time are you picking the kids up and don�t forget Jooj has got a school trip on Friday and needs a packed lunch: 15
To my bestest friend: 5, total minutes bitching about men 17
Calls to BFs mobile: 14, total minutes spent saying "are you in the pub?" 5
Calls to LIVERPOOL (home of a certain Diary Buddy) 10 , Total minutes spent talking about nothing, gossiping, giggling and bickering like a pair of little kids 5 HOURS 41 MINUTES!!!
Im not quite sure what that proves, except for Hooray for �BT Friends and Family� � all that gossip for only �1.11!
♫♪♫♫♪♪
So, here�s the stalker thing, then. Im going to try very hard to not offend anyone with this story, so if I do, it really isnt intentional.
I have a stalker, I have had for about ten years. He joined the same theatre group as me and, as we are of a similar age, he started hanging around with �our gang�. None of the gang were particularly friendly with him but he was an acquaintance and we got invited to some of the same parties. His folks knew some of the older theatre members, including my uncle, and this guy lurked on the fringes of our circle for a bit. One day, in passing, he mentioned playing musical instruments and I told him I used to play the violin. He called me a couple of times after that, to talk about music and to ask my opinion on various pieces he was enjoying. A couple of days later he showed up at my house. His mum had given him a lift on her way to work. I didn�t think too much of it and I invited him in. Jooj was a baby at the time and I was a married, stay-at-home mum. I made him a cup of coffee and we talked about music a bit more. He was very keen to hang around but after an hour or so I just got bored of his company so I pretended I had to go out and dropped him off near his mum�s office.
A few days later he was back. He wanted to borrow a keyboard he�d seen at my house. I lent it to him and sent him away. He phoned me that night. And the next night. Then the next day. I started screening calls but he�d leave messages instructing me to call him back. He sent me tapes of music he thought Id like. He sent me a tape of him reading from the Bible. He phoned every day, sometimes several times. It was becoming a bit of a chore. My folks teased me about it. Shagnasty tutted every time J�s name was mentioned.
I called my uncle and asked, tentatively "Is J�.ummmm�..alright?". My uncle gave me some vague info about �some sort of breakdown� and said he�d call J�s folks as �this sort of thing� had happened before. There wasn�t really a �this sort of thing� I was just starting to feel a bit uneasy about the whole business � and it was starting to piss Shagnasty off that I was screening calls all day long and refusing to answer the phone in the evenings. I had three more phone calls, leaving messages to say that if I thought he was pestering me then why didn�t I just say so. He offered to bring the keyboard back. In an unguarded moment he caught me on the phone and I told him my husband was starting to find it odd that J phoned me so much � J was very apologetic and said he didn�t want to cause any trouble. He brought the keyboard back and Shagnasty met him at the door. He snatched the keyboard from J and shut the door in his face. I didn�t hear any more.
I saw J socially on a couple of occasions but just nodded a �hello� and moved on.
Shagnasty was never really very keen on me being part of the theatre company so I didn�t do any plays for a few years. J just sort of faded from my mind.
Then I got divorced. I met BF and he encouraged me to take up all the hobbies and interests I�d let go while I was married and I got a part in an outdoor production of Alice Through the Looking Glass. J was in it, too. I was the Red Queen, he was the Unicorn so we had no scenes together and no reason to socialise during rehearsals. I had my own friends there and so did he.
I moved house just as the run of the play finished. Ive never been good at living on my own � Im afraid of the dark and I do tend to go to pieces if I don�t have someone to look after. Of course, I had the children but they were at their father�s for half the time and BF and I were new together and not as co-dependent as we are now! So, Im at home, drinking juice out of the carton and living the life of the newly single.
I got a letter. A long letter. In it, J described how much he loved the �cold, aloof� act I put on when I was around him. He wrote how he knew that it was just an act to inflame his passions and then went into great detail about what he�d like to do to me � with descriptions of how much Id love it. He told me how I knew what my behaviour was doing to him and how it just made him want me more. I put the letter in my bag and went to work. When I got home, someone had broken down my fence and got into my garden. I was too scared to go in the house so I went to my folks. I took the letter.
My dad gave me two options: I could go to the police or, (as J had thoughtfully put his return address on the letter) dad would go round and �see� him. My dad was born in 1939. He�s 5�8" tall. But he�s from Shirley*. There is no doubt in my mind that he would most certainly have killed J if he�d gone to his house.
I went to the police. First I called Shagnasty to see how much he could recall of the previous J incidents as it had been five years or so before. He was very supportive and also offered to go round and �see� J. Shagnasty�s from Reading, I don�t think much wouldve happened.
BF came with me to the police station and I gave a statement. The police went to see J that same afternoon. They told him he must stay away from me and that a restraining order would land him in Big Big trouble if he contacted me again.
I told everyone I knew. I figured the more people knew about it the better support network I would have if I needed it.
A couple of weeks later I had a call from Dr A, a fellow theatre co member. He was acting as an intermediary for J. Dr A told me all about J�s manic depression � in a �I cant believe you didn�t realise� way. Id never come across manic depression before and certainly had no knowledge of how it might manifest itself. If Im honest, despite recent Googling and Wikipedia-ing, Im still not really sure I understand it.
Dr A told me about some of the other things that J had done � proposed marriage to people he hardly knew, generally made a nuisance of himself etc etc. Dr A seemed to think that I had made a mountain out of a molehill. He made me feel that I had been unkind for going to the police and that I should have shown some compassion and pity. Had any of the many many people who knew both J and I at the time thought to tell me about his illness, I may well have done so. But he scared me. He scared me very badly at a time when I was at my most vulnerable and I truly didn�t know that he was ill. He was just a sexual predator who knew I lived alone with my children as far as I knew.
Dr A told me that, after a spell in hospital and a change of Meds, J was now feeling much better and requested that he be allowed to write me a letter of apology. With some misgivings I allowed the letter to be written and sent. J apologised profusely and told me how upset he was that he�d caused me so much distress.
Fast forward a couple of years. I get cast in another play. J does too. The director takes me to one side and says he knows about my �bit of trouble� and that he can do without J in the play but not without me. I tell him that�s all in the past now, but J pulls out anyway. J pulls out of two more productions in which we would have been acting together.
Last month I played Regan in King Lear. The week after the run I had two letters on the same day from J. In the first he tells me how much he loved my fantastic performance and that I was wonderfully scary. In the second he backtracks and says it is my �performance� that was scary and not me as he knows that Im not scary and that Im actually a nice person who wouldn�t be scary at all blah blah blah. He mentions several other plays that Ive been in which he has seen without me being aware of him being in the audience. I read the letters to BF. We both feel a bit sorry for J. He sounds desperate to not upset me.
Last Monday when I got home from work, I had a message on my phone. J called to say that despite his letters to me, I hadnt responded and he now needed to hear from me personally that I forgave him for �that shameful incident all those years ago� in order that he could �move on and become more positive about his life�. I may be reading more into it than is really there but I thought he actually sounded like he was pissed off with me for not contacting him.
He left no contact number and the two letters had no return address on them. I can find out where he lives but do I want to? If I can find his address, should I send a message?
I want to believe that this is a genuine plea for closure but I am still frightened enough of him for me to have to stop halfway through this ramble to have a little cry.
Please can you help me, good people of Diaryland?
Thanks everso
S
x
*it�s a suburb of ChavVille, Im from there too. They breed em tough in Shirley.
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