It is with a heavy heart I write this post. This week I lost 2 of my most treasured possessions. A person I classified as my friend and my most highly treasured gift of all time. A bottle Jean Patou Joy Parfum. Not only was it the most expensive perfume in the world, it was 7.5 grams of pure love.
The background regarding me becoming the proudest owner of such an exquisite gift is as follows.
Many years ago the love of my life took me on my first overseas holiday to mainland USA and Hawaii. Airlines used to drag the duty free trolley up the aisle for passengers to purchase items. We bought alcohol, cigarettes and a couple of souvenir type things for the kids back home. We didn't have a credit card so we used our holiday American Currency. It was A long flight and sometime either while I was asleep or had gone to the bathroom my doting lover managed to buy me a bottle of Joy parfum. I was unaware he did this, to be honest I had never heard of it. After our eventual arrival And we were safely ensconced in a 5 star hotel(part of our holiday package I don't usually travel in such luxury) he produced this little box from his jacket pocket. It was a white box with a black outline and the word joy simply emblazoned on the front. Inside was a little gold box housing a small black bottle with a red lid tied with a gold thread ribbon. This single gesture was to become the most significant sentimental symbol of our love for each other. I remember the funny grin on his face as he placed it in my hands as if it were happening right now! He knew it would mean more to me than anything I had ever experienced before. He said he was giving me Joy as I had given him so much Joy and he wanted me to feel like a Princess for the rest of our lives together. It was true romance in an exotic hotel room with my soul mate on the other side of the world and was to become the beginning of some of the happiest times of my life. We weren't rich, the holiday had been long saved for it was disgracefully extravagant and oh so personal. I felt ultimately blessed and a bit guilty he had spent so much on me. I wasn't sophisticated or used to such sincere displays of affection. Our later gifts to each other would be of a more practical nature, car tyres, microwave ovens, washing machines, BBQ, lawn mower or clothing. He insisted I try it on, the heady sweet rose fragrance filled the entire room with one tiny dab from the little glass dauber. It was the most romantic moment in my life, up until then or even to this day. It was so precious I rarely used it. I even used kept it in a safe it was that sacred.
A few years before that day,
I had just extricated myself from a very abusive relationship where I was forbidden to wear perfume, makeup, nice clothes of have friends, lest I attract attention from the opposite sex. I was regularly beaten, belittled and humiliated. I was constantly checked on, controlled, forced to shop at second hand clothing stores while he bought hand made Italian leather boots for himself and if he couldn't decide on which style of jacket to buy for himself he bought them all. The whole time he was whoring around behind my back and I was obviously the laughing stock of my work place.
The transition from a man who I now believe thought of me as a possession to be downtrodden and beaten into submission, to a man who placed me on a pedestal and actually worshipped me as an equal person, sought and valued my opinion. Treated me with the utmost respect and clearly wanted to be with me forever and please me, was overwhelming and surreal to say the least.
I wore Joy at our engagement, our marriage and sadly much later to his funeral. He was taken from me far too young by a Heart problem. He had the kindest most generous heart of anyone I had ever known. We had no idea something that strong would fail us.
Years later I have cherished that one little bottle of parfum with reverence befitting the ritual it has come to signify. It's the sort of thing you would dab behind your daughters ears on her wedding day and she would understand and appreciate the almost holy significance.
I have had an ongoing unpleasant battle with a person in my life who is constantly trying to change, control and conform me to her ideals. It has come to a point where I don't like spending too much time with this person as she makes me uncomfortable. I cared very much for her and whilst I have never agreed or approved a single decision in her life I have supported and bailed her out of númerous stupid situations she has regularly placed herself in, without reproach or judgement. Other than to point out the alternatives she might have considered to avoid her present predicament.I have accepted her for who she is and constantly made excuses for her disrespectful manner in which she treats me. We do not have a single thing in common, she doesn't realise the value of anything. She is judgemental, offensive and vicious. I am different to her and always will be. I accept that. I cannot instill my values in her and her constant incessant barrage of unwarranted and uncalled for measures at trying to force me to conform to her unrealistic standards have had a detrimental affect on our relationship. She is vain and obsessed with body image, suffered from significant eating disorders. Is overly and compulsively concerned with appearance and tries to ram these unrealistic and unnatural non values down my throat. Her constant criticism of my diet and habits is unbending snd tiresome. She rates experience, enjoyment and travel, over possessions ( experience won't feed or provide for your children) I have never met someone so wasteful. Her idea is to travel the world enriching your children's lives with experience and culture yet have nothing but memories to show for it. She has learnt nothing from me and I have no interest whatsoever in adopting her bohemian lifestyle. She is more educated than me but I am more experienced and worldly. I am sorry I have never told her how many times she has disappointed me, although she is so belligerent and self obsessed I doubt she would care.
If you have been following this blog you would know recently spent a couple of weeks in hospital. My recovery will be slow and painstaking. I had hoped to come home to a peaceful environment to recouperate and heal. I had tried to ensure preparations were in place to facilitate this, it was to be a relaxing gentle time.
This person insisted against my wishes in coming to care for me, it was definitely against my wishes. I tried as gently as possible to refuse this assistance. The very idea of being bed bound and unable to escape the constant tongue torture I am subjected to filled me with dread. Absolute dread, I did not look forward to coming home. The stress was overwhelming. She did come, I was unable to stave it off. I kept to myself. She was attentive and cooked meals, which were healthy and I enjoyed. I was unable to see what she got up to, each time I asked she said she was cleaning something or looking for something. I didn't want her to do either. She is not nearly as fastidious in her own domestic circumstances.
My house is a home. It is cluttered and filled with things that are significant and special to me. I collect things, I love garage sales, I have had numerous hobbies and there is lots of evidence of my past. I'm a boots n all kind of person who throws herself headlong into projects. It used to be paper crafts, tapestries, sewing and other arty crafty type pastimes. They were a source of release and inexpensive entertainment to me. I love to read! I will read anything I collect books and I read them. Sometimes I give them away. I even sold one once but the rest are there for my pleasure. I do not like to part with them. I am told I am a hoarder. So be it. I am not hurting anyone. This is my space I should be able to use it as I see fit. It is my business and no one, absolutely no one, else's business. If you don't like my clutter and collections DONT COME!!!!! If you don't want your friends to see my harmless, yet fulfilling to me, eccentricity don't bring them to experience my generosity. I wouldn't want to embarrass you.
If you have problem with the way I live, that is your problem
Definitely not mine.
Don't hold meetings behind my back about how worried I am making you. How you can change me if you just keep harranging and badgering me into submission, trying to gain support for your selfish cause. This is me like it or lump it. Demanding inventory on when I last wore, used, watched, read or listened to this or that. I have watched you all throw things out just to have to replace exactly the same thing a short time later. I have allowed you to dump your excess on me only to come get it later. I don't care. I am happy to safely store anything for anyone. I will always do you 10 good turns before I accidentally inadvertently do you one bad one, which if it happens I will rectify as soon as possible.
There was a house fire when I was a child that destroyed my childhood toys. I had nothing to hand down. I have stored my children's toys, photos, videos, locks of first haircuts, school reports and achievements to hand down to their children. They are free to destroy them
If they wish at least they have the option. There is absolutely nothing from my early past. Not even memories.
On Thursday I had to go my doctor for post op checkup. I made the dire mistake of allowing this person to stay behind at my home. By the time I had returned exhausted she had emptied drawers, cupboards, systematically removed everything from my bathroom cabinets, then reloaded them hollow behind and faced full at the front to deceive me into thinking they had not been tampered with. I was not up to checking or aware of the carnage that had taken place. Brand new unopened bottle of bath gel with 24 carat gold flakes, Clinique, Estée Lauder, soaps, treasures and my most beloved and cherished bottle of Joy taken to the garbage. Not even my garbage (where I might have some hope of recovering it) but to a garbage in a neighbouring town. 10 kilometres away.!!!!!! Where it was unretrievable. A complete and total, stunningly deceitful and cunning act of malicious intent that I will never recover from. The absolute vicious efficiency with which this planned attack on my most private domain was executed has left me exquisitly distraut that someone I explicitly trusted would even consider to perpertrate on me. I have been pillaged, robbed and destroyed. Of all the low points this person has reduced me to this is the lowest. There is NO PLACE for her in my heart or life ever again. I really hope this outstanding victory has been worth it for her. The casualty is heavy and complete. She has lost her most trusted undying friend, who accepted her without question, who would have died for her.
She no longer exists.
Here is a photo of a bottle similar to my precious Joy. It is empty and with out its box in average condition selling on eBay at the moment for just under $100 AU
Money could not have bought my pristine almost full bottle of Joy from me, not at any price. I will never have it again!!!!!! The sentimental value was irreplaceable.
I cannot show you how my bathroom sanctuary looked prior to its decimation. I had a large bath width shelf filled to the brim with potions, creams, scrubs, real gold flecked bubble bath, masques, perfumed soaps, perfume, body wash, shampoos and all things girly for an indulgent relaxing ablution. The place I go to sit in steamy perfumed bubbles and rejoice in my happy place. This is not my bath shelf but I do like the variety and chaotic colours and textures.
You are now looking at my bath shelf. The same shelf I designed and created (and yes we even tiled it ourselves with Australian Red Cedar accents, to display my bath time enhancements) modelled on that fancy marble tiled to the ceiling hotel bathroom so Many years ago in San Francisco. Where I became the proudest owner of the finest bottles of Parfum in the entire world! Where my heart literally almost burst with JOY that I had finally found someone who wanted me to his lady and who was proud to be my man.
My bathroom had a baby scented perfumed smell, when you opened the door after a long day this homely fragrance greeted you. Did I die in that hospital or am I in gaol, or unwittingly join a monestary, where the only cosmetics I am permitted are an empty china trinket box or a cheap stale pot pourri container holding red rose petals from a long dead bouquet. Neither of which have the slightest bearing or potential to enhance my bath time experience. Statistics have shown that women on average have about 27 different bath time ritualistic fragrance and moisturising products. I must be about average. My stark undecorated shelf totally devoid of my expensive and favourite things that I used vary sparingly to prolong their use is now a constant knife in the gut and twisting actions reminder of a maniacal bitches actions who has total disregard or disrespect for my privacy, comfort or happiness. I am a person who did not deserve to have this done to them and for years I am going to be missing things including the lost future I hoped to enjoy with this person. This irrevocable, seditious behaviour displayed by this manipulatively, cunning, despicable person responsible for this outrage should never be repeated ever to anyone.
I was frantic when I discovered what the bitch had done. In a wild panic I started pulling things from my bathroom cabinet to find a once bulging Cabinet was empty at the back with stuff stacked in front to give the deceitful illusion of fullness. I was hysterical, part disbelief but mostly hope my trinkets and treasures had all been shoved out of site. It was not to be. A $2 bottle of fluoro blue radox survived her carnage. How the *+*+ did that happen??????! Probably the cheapest thing in the bathroom. More revenge was realise when this bottle fell over and smashed all over my iPhone, all over the inside of the cabinet and all over the snowy white grout in my show place bathroom wall and floor tiles. This stain will never be removed, another forever ugly reminder of what happened. Even the room itself did not survive! I don't remember what I was screaming into he phone, I was too distraut to think. I had thrown my self onto the floor, my leg wouldn't bend in its cast and I couldn't get up out of the slippery staining Radox. It was about 30 minutes of out of control mayhem. I do rember being calmly told it was for my own good, I was being saved from myself, my clutter was going to be the death of me in a fire as I would be unable to escape the flames. Which is perfectly reasonable when you consider that bathroom has no escape route and a 7.5 gram bottle of the worlds most precious parfum was in grave danger of preventing my exit during a haulicost. I have been filled with a dangerous all consuming rage since that event. Richo has been trying to make me eat. Trying to help accept the truth. Watched me sob and shake my head and thump my scooter in the ground in uncontrollable frustration. He has picked me up and cleaned up the mess I made. He has tried to take tablets away from me and we have discussed the future. I am in a desperately unhappy place and I am sorry I came home. I will always wonder what would have happened, in my relationship with her, if I only I had stopped her from coming near me when I was so vulnerable. From now on I will be using the No word. I have found it so hard to not acquiesce to everyone's demands of me. I will never be hurt again. This is the last straw. No phone calls, No emails , NO visits and No self righteous bullshit about how I am not good enough. Go find someone else's life to destroy. Go practice yours and your judgemental friends half witted psychology on some other lab rat. I used to be happy! No thanks to you. Why have I tolerated this situation so long ?????? Because we are related!
