“sounds like a personal problem”

This was a phrase I not only heard daily when I was engaged to “Mr. Mulah”, it rubbed off on me as well by simple repetition In hearing.

That was what he had to say once he started the conversation with “how are you?”.

Because he knew I had problems. He used it against me in daily and constant reminders such as this sarcastic phrase.

When you first hear something like that, it’s amusing as a joke. It kind of flies off the tongue like an attempt to lighten the situation because he knew my problems were fucking real.

It became a norm.

Such a norm that I later caught myself using the same phrase in a different setting with another human being. When I caught myself, I realized how horrible that saying was. Straight from the clever and conniving, MALIGNANT narcissistic mind of my abuser, “Mr. Mulah”.

That saying; “sounds like a personal problem“ was accompanied with other daily degrading remarks.

“Mr. Mulah” would look towards the sky with the Italian hand gestures as though speaking to his creator “Why me Lord, why me?”

The gesture was posed in a joking manner. It always related to me and an imperfection that annoyed him. Often it was related to my little dog.

This is constant and consistent derogation. Intended to hold me in a mental place of gratitude for his acceptance of me and my baggage.

My baggage was what he used to entice me to succumb to him and his “help”.

He carefully considered my “baggage”. He knew I was recently sober. That was both a selling point to him and a cause for concern. The selling point was, I was now a more worthy person in his view. Although he brought statistics of likelihood long term actuality related to sobriety in general, often. Year one, see if she falls off the wagon. Year two, good but still a risk, and improving reliability with time.

I was to be his designated driver.

He asked me several times how I’d handle my not consuming alcohol at a cocktail party [as if]. He wanted to know specifically what beverage I’d ask for in the stead of alcohol. Well, hmm.

He wanted to know how I would be a nonchalant survivor of alcoholism while rubbing elbows. As though it’s embarrassing.

Water with lemon is nice. Coffee is great.

Whatever.

This is one topic to which I say good riddance. I don’t have to hear this blasphemy any longer.