Over a year ago we asked Sketchy the Addict to move out of our house, mostly because we had discovered that Sketchy was not a lot of fun, plus the whole constant online hooking up with strangers whenever we were not looking was kind of gross and dangerous. So we said goodbye to Sketchy and then everyone got tested because, well anything that Sketchy might have touched could have infected us with god knows what.
The weird thing is that when you run with the psycho’s of the world like Little Miss Sketchy, sometimes you feel blessed in a strange way, because it is almost like emotional bungee jumping. You make friends with someone, and for the initial months everything is open and honest and trusting because that person has given you no reason not to question their integrity. So it was with Sketchy, in fact, with Sketchy it was even easier to trust and want to like, because Sketchy was good at pretending to be all clean and sober and living the healthy righteous life. Sketchy was good about pretending to go to “meetings” and telling anyone and everyone about how she overcame her terrible addictions. Oh how Sketchy had suffered from her self inflicted wounds.
The problem with expectations is that when you allow people to think you might be one thing, and then you are exactly the opposite, it’s kind of a let down. Sketchy presented herself as this paragon of integrity because she had discovered the drugs she so enjoyed were actually killing her, so she got her act together, she pulled herself together, she got some rehab and attended all the right meetings and told all the other helpless addicts how she was suffering but stronger. Everything was going well. Until we discovered that everything Sketchy said was a lie. It was not so bad that Sketchy was still using, which I take is a no-no in the whole cleaner than thou mantra of AA/NA/VA/BA/CA whatever, but ever stranger was that Sketchy had also switched much of her addictive behavior from nights snorting anything she could stuff into her rather over inflated nostrils to nights and days cruising the internet for any man with a semi-functioning penis.
So we tossed Sketchy the Addict out of our life and that was that. We even begged, please Sketchy, never ever ever contact us, in any form, such was the betrayal and level of disgust we felt toward Sketchy the addict.
That was over a year ago. In all that time, we have been blessed with not a word, no cards, no snail mail, nothing. So even though Sketchy, who did everything possible to prove she is a woman who can not be trusted, that she is the exact opposite of a woman of integrity, we were lucky to have not heard a word from anything Sketchy. It has been wonderfully quiet. Part of it was that when a true psychopath is finally discovered, the last thing they really want is that bare truth released to anyone else. So it was with Sketchy. As long as Sketchy could continue on with her contemptible behavior without any of her “friends” knowing that she had just exchanged lying about coke and meth for promiscuous sex and online hookups, no one would be the wiser. She could just tell her “friends” that she decided to move on, probably concocting another fake dramatic story that her friends are all too familiar with anyway, so her getting thrown out of another living situation would probably just be filed under “Sketchy drama” and soon forgotten.
One thing I have learned with my interactions with psychopaths is they rarely mix family and friends with their new friends, because then when things go south, (which they always do) the new friends might inform the family and friends what a psychopath everyone else was dealing with. Such it was with Sketchy. While I am sure I could have spent a week tracking down Sketchy’s family and friends and informing them that the clean and sober role model was nothing but a walking/talking STD clinic waiting to gift any unsuspecting person with a variety of treatable and untreatable diseases, I just let it die, because as long as Sketchy was out of our lives, I could easily forget the damage that sort of hysterical drama creates.
Last night I got an email from, oh come on, not Sketchy, because truth be told addicts are really pussies hiding in bullies leather jockstraps. No, Sketchy has some sort of role model mother, a care taker at the Bates Motel somewhere and I got an email from her. Of course psychotics do not just plop out of a vagina fully formed, they must come from some sort of alcoholic and abusive nest, right? So, imagine, an email from the source of Sketchy’s psychosis sending me a lovely little note.
I think I met Mrs. Sketchy once, she was drunk and loud and obnoxious. I believe even Sketchy was ashamed of her, if shame was something Sketchy was even capable of. Sketchy had warned me that Mommy was not far removed from the trailer park, that she was a hard drinker, a grade school drop out with a temper and an inability to comprehend anything deeper than a Rush Limbaugh rant. Even at the time I did not pay it much attention, because in retrospect I must have surmised that Sketchy spoke in a language filled with addict bullshit and self loathing I could not comprehend.
At first the email I recently received, I did not know it was from her, because I have this blog and a number of other public outreach campaigns and a lot of press with a couple of books recently out, so I am being contacted often enough by a lot of strange and unknown email addresses I do not recognize, so when I get strange or stupid email, my standard response is, who is this?
This is what I received:
“Matt,
I don't know what in the world you are thinking.
Leave my Sketchy alone. You don't want me mad.”
The most interesting thing is, I have not contacted Sketchy since we tossed her scary psychotic ass out into the street. What’s even stranger, her scary daughter is a middle aged woman, which in my mind begs the question, why is this complete stranger emailing me in the middle of the night with implied threats, “don’t want me mad?” Honey, you raised a psychopath, I know what you are capable of. I don’t care if you are mad, or drunk, or dragging your knuckles on the ground with a beer in one hand a copy of Truckers Weekly in the other. You did a fine job of screwing up and creating Sketchy the Addict, what could you possibly want with me?
I don’t really know much about Sketchy or her family, since the only real thing I know about Sketchy is that everything thing I did know about her was built on lies. What I do know about liars and bullies is this, they make threats, they scream and yell and then the drugs and alcohol wear off and they return to their boring lives of soap operas and high school sports. It was a major mistake to ever allow Sketchy the Addict in our life, much less our home. The only bigger mistake possible would be either Sketchy or her drunken Mommy dearest to show up at some point.
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