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Monday, August 6, 2012

Manic Mondays: The Psycho Call

So, this blog post is late. Sorry. Got no excuses except that I was planning my October trip to Hawaii and lost track of time. #whitegirlproblems

As promised, my Monday feature focuses around one of the many completely psychotic episodes I've participated in over my many years of dating. I'm not proud of this, but hell, it needs to be written. I know there's a bunch of other girls out there who have done some crazy shit. I REFUSE TO BELIEVE I AM THE ONLY ONE.

Today's story goes way back. Way, way back to my teen years. I had a "serious" boyfriend throughout all of high school who was equally, if not entirely more insane than I was. He was a few years older, devastatingly handsome and drove a nice car--- all of the assets one looks for in their future mate at age 16.

While he was perfect and had all these wonderful assets (this sentence drips with sarcasm), he was also a liar, cheater and got off on torturing my delicate 16 year old self esteem constantly. I'm not sure why I put up with this, but I did.

I wasn't the only one with a mean, horrible boyfriend in college. My best friend, Amy (see "Meet the Brides") was just as insecure and nutzo as I was in high school with an equally horrid boyfriend. Two best friends, two crazy boyfriends, and the new age of cellular telephones (We were among the first teens to have our own cells. Think: Snake on a Nokia phone).

With the new found freedom of having driver's licenses, fake ID's good enough to buy Mike's hard lemonade and cell phones, the Psycho Call was born in the late night hours of 2004.

This is the basic scenario.


Think I'll call my AMAZING boyfriend. Ring, Ring. Ring, Ring.

Ring, Ring. Ring, Ring. 

Ring, Ring. Ring, Ring.

Ring, Ring. Ring, Ring. 

"You've reached the voice mail of the Biggest Mistake Nikki Ever Made..."

Then:

MUST REACH BOYFRIEND NOW.

Ring, Ring. Ring, Ring. 

Ring, Ring. Ring, Ring. 

Ring, Ring. Ring, Ring. 

Voicemail: "I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE. I WILL COME THERE. I WILL FIND YOU. WHERE ARE YOU??? YOU CHEATING ASSHOLE. I WILL COME DRAG YOU OUT OF WHEREVER YOU ARE!!! WHO ARE YOU WITH? YOU'RE CHEATING ON ME!!!!!"

Lather, rinse repeat--until he answers. God help him if he turns the phone off or presses the ignore button. It only fueled the hormone drenched fire spewing from within. From there, its just complete chaos. We couldn't sleep, eat, stop crying, do homework, live life with the boyfriends were unreachable. Maybe they were working or visiting their Grandma in a nursing home, it just didn't matter. They should be available at our whim, whenever, where ever. What else were cell phones for really?

Looking back on this behavior, I can see its completely psychotic. When Amy and I discussed the "psycho call" last week, she recounted a story of when she actually showed up at an ex-boyfriend's house because he turned his phone off and would not answer.

I think that the underlying issue here is the inherent difference between how men and woman handle conflict. Almost every guy I know, including my own father, will avoid conflict like the plague. They can't handle hysterics, feelings, or water works. They would rather shut down completely, retreat from the world and in turn, shut off the cell phone.

Women, on the other hand, thrive under these circumstances. When one of my friends is in crisis mode, I spring to action. I become Superwoman. I'm supporting, loving, a shoulder to cry on. I can only guess that I thought men would respond well to the Psycho Call because that's what would get my attention if a girl was doing that. Clearly my brain was clouded with delusions of teenage hormones and romantic fantasies I learned from Disney. 

So, what have I learned from the many years of the Psycho Call complex? I've learned to keep my crazy in check. I still get beyond pissed when someone hangs up on me, then refuses to answer my call or shuts off their phone. I just focus it else where. Why waste my time on someone who won't give me the time of day?

I feel like these feelings are certainly something a lot of ladies my age have or do experience. While we may have grown up from our fragile high school selves, the fragile self esteem is still alive and well. You can appear to be the most confident career woman on the outside, yet still have this porcelain interior that comes out to play, especially with romantic affairs that have been ruffled. 

I am proud to say I have not Psycho Call'ed since my early college years. I plan to stay on the straight and arrow. There are so many better psycho ex-girlfriend things to do with my time these days.

Welcome back, Manic Monday!


 





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