As some of you may have seen reported today, the richest man in Britain (look up his name) has lost £17b of his £28b fortune this year. But there is quite enough left to go on hiring sex workers for regular parties for him and his friends. Vanessa is one of them. Apparently he doesn't pay very well.
She told me this last time I saw her - and expect ever see her - when she got me to pay a tea and cake at Fortnum and Mason's, having - a few years earlier - persuaded me to give her, a few thousand at a time - my worldly fortune.
When I spend a day with indigestion and low energy (see previous post) the last thing that occurs to me is that I might be trying to repress grief and rage. But, until I started dealing with my bully voice inside - and this only began to happen two months ago, after tea with Vanessa in Fortnum's - I had repressed all these feelings. (It's all there in the 'Vanessa' tags to this blog, from the very first post in October 2005). I tried to get the money back, but I never felt I deserved it. I was too keen on beating myself for being a man...or whatever (one post is not a full length autobiography),
But how - up until now - could I value myself so little? How could she (and other girlfriends before her in a far, far less specular way) mistake my generosity of spirit for being a mug? How could I ever believe it was worth selling my Picasso for example (it turned out to be a fake) to finance her profligacy? How could I have so little self belief that she could convince me my temper tantrums were at fault when I objected to spending £7000 one afternoon at Ralph Lauren?
And after all this time how dare she treat me two months ago like a trivial version of a steel billionaire sex-client - and not even offering me the sex? (I'm too nice - and I wouldn't have taken up the offer, but even so)
Most startling of all, though, is that when at last I break the spell of bossy self hatred that has so held me back and in Vanessa's thrall, I still find it surprising I have bouts of sleeplessness and indigestion. Because after all, until I experience my grief and rage and, yes, rightousness, I will never be able to move on.
brokendownangel
Pro 
We all have ONE that never quite seems to go away, even after many years of absence in some cases. They touched us just a little too deeply or caused just a tad too much pain, the scarring still itches when there is a full moon. But those memories must somehow be turned into good ones only, or lessons learned, then we can move on at least partially and put them away in a box within our deepest selves, to be taken out at our own bidding.
I guess this has brought up all your old feelings or thoughts of your anger. But life is not long and dwelling is very bad for the soul. she treats you as she does simply because she can - do not allow it, not ever for you are worth far more than that. i hope she does not treat you badly anymore x