The Art of Extreme Self-Masochism

It is not often that I visit a wellknown cyber library of New Age/Ascension cult-waffling, yet it can be good for a laugh.

Take this recent offering:

It all started with the dishwasher. After a good night's sleep, I walked into the kitchen one morning to make a cup of tea and found my husband loading dirty dishes into the top rack. I stood quietly by, taking special note of how he "tossed" them in without much concern for how they were placed. Once he was done and safely in his office, I, knowing full well that the dishwasher needed to be loaded correctly, walked over, opened the front of the machine, and proceeded to rearrange what he had done. Just then, Beavis* walked back into the room.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Nothing," I replied, looking guilty as hell.

"No really, Butthead*, what are you doing?" he demanded.

I quickly explained how important it was to put the dishes in the dishwasher in a certain way to insure that they'd be cleaned properly. Before I could finish my well-honed argument, he exclaimed:

"That's ridiculous. They'll get clean regardless of how you put them in. Why don't you just tell the truth? You're a control freak and since I didn't do it your way, you need to fix it."

I felt like a little girl caught in the act of stealing candy at the corner store. I stood there, head bent, looking down at my slippers.

"Butthead," he explained, "what do you think goes through my mind when I come into the kitchen and find you redoing what I just did?"

I looked up with a sheepish grin on my face.

"It makes me say 'Why bother? It's never right and she's just going to do it over anyway.' So I don't help out and that's why you end complaining that you never get the support you need. Rather than receive my help, you criticize it."

Ouch. I hate when you're face to face with the person who knows you better than anyone else in the world and there's no where to hide.  Beavis was right. I was a control freak and when it came to asking for or receiving help, I got an automatic "F."

(* names changed because it's MY blog and I can write what I like)

Damn right!   An automatic "F", for Butthead who doesn't realise she is in a highly manipulative and psychically abusive relationship with a partner who knows that she prefers the dishwasher to be loaded properly ~ that this is a small detail that is important to her.  How easy would it be for Beavis to take the time to load the dishwasher Butthead's way once in a while......to make the effort.....once in a while.

You tell me who the real control freak is here and just how adept the freak is at getting the other person to believe that they are the one with the problem?  Daddy's Little Girl just might wake up one day to what is really going down with the Dishwasher Clown who lurks around the corner and waits to ambush her with a surprise attack. 

Oh well.....this is the stuff and nonsense that New Age nitwits thrive on...and when one considers the amount of energy it takes to run a dishwasher and the amount of water it uses, this calibre of anecdote is more EGO-friendly than eco-friendly.

Here's three syllables to meditate upon:

Hand Washing

As in wash your hands of a partner who knows what irritates you and just keeps on doing it anyways. Honey, that's a way clever sadist.  But I guess all these amusing little anecdotes help sell your crappy books.