I was holding my breath...seconds seemed to stretch forever. Time stood still for God only knows how long while Josh was standing in front of me with that maddening smile on his face. The smile he got before he began screwing with my head. Josh thrust the shotgun at me and I instinctively flinched, thinking he was going to hit me again. Instead he shoved the shotgun into my chest, then into my hands. He yelled at me to "hold it right dammit!" I had no idea if the shotgun was loaded or not and I thought this was it. He was going to kill me for sure this time. I cringed every time he yelled, flinched at his every movement. For some reason, he found humor in my fear and began to chuckle...a sickening, evil laugh which scared me even more. I was terrified.
He was still laughing and said "you want me dead? Well then, fucking shoot me bitch. Here's your chance. I even put it in your hands". I have no idea how long I stood there completely motionless, frozen in time with my finger on the trigger and his hand on the barrel jerking the shotgun every now and then. He was daring me to shoot him, trying to yank the shotgun hard enough for my finger to pull the trigger while he stood in front of the shotgun. All the while I was thinking about what would happen to my animals if I did shoot Josh...who would love them, feed them, take care of them if I were in jail. I knew the cops wouldn't believe me when I told them the truth. I knew, just KNEW in my heart that I'd be the one going to jail even though he'd abused me for so long already. He was certifiably insane. And honestly, I didn't care if he did die - I just didn't want to have to clean up the mess.
My animals were far too important for me to do what needed to be done. I chickened out and did not shoot the son-of-a-bitch. Later, I would regret that missed opportunity immensely.
Josh thought I didn't have the nerve (although he had no idea what stopped me). Little did he know that in that short span of time, I realized my life was far too important to throw it all away and put him where he belonged...6 feet under and on his way back through the Gates of Hell. He thought I stopped because I still loved him. If he only knew what was going through my mind, he would've run. That is, if he had any damned common sense.
He took the shotgun out of my hands and put it back in my shotgun rack next to my bed. I never knew if it was loaded or not. He came back into the weight room, grabbed my arm and walked me down the hallway towards the living room. We spent the evening sitting on the couch and I listened to him tell more stories about his life and why he is the way he is. I truly believe they were all lies and he lives in a fantasy-land of his own creation. A few hours later when he was feeling better about himself, he forced me to go to the bedroom and have sex with him.
I was so used to this, that I was a master at disassociating my brain from my body. He could do whatever he wanted to do to me and I wasn't there. My body may have been there, but my brain and soul were not. I had to protect myself somehow without provoking him yet again by saying "no, don't touch me". No matter how much the thought of him touching me disgusted me, no matter how many times I gagged, cringed and withdrew, I knew better than to show it outwardly. The last time I did that, he got very rough and almost broke a few of my bones. His 300 pound body was no match for my petite 120 pound frame. I was overpowered yet again.
To be continued...
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
MPS - Part 7
This continuation has taken a few days. I had to stop writing for a bit because of the horrible flashbacks and nightmares that have become more vivid and frequent. I am ready to go on now. As I stated before, this is part of what I live with on a daily basis due to what Josh has done to me.
Valentine's Day is one of those "almost" holidays that I don't always choose to celebrate. Normally I'm alone and not in a relationship, so why celebrate? This year I was with Josh and I was unsure if celebrating this abominable relationship was really such a fantastic idea. It was a curse, not a blessing to be with this evil, devil-spawn, son-of-a-bitch.
The day started out pretty much like all the rest. Josh was drinking to see just how drunk he could get before he passed out, I was doing the usual cleaning and other household chores while walking on eggshells. Nothing good was going to come out of his drinking and I was full aware of that, yet too scared to voice my objections for fear of the physical retribution that usually followed. The tension in the house was higher than usual, I was as jumpy as a frog in a blender and my puppy-dog was hiding in the back room. My poor Beagle...even she sensed what was coming. She too had been on the receiving end of Josh's constant tirades (unbeknownst to me at the time - he would beat her while I was at work).
How the whole argument started that afternoon, is a mystery to me. Josh got that look in his eyes - the dark, burn through your soul, evil, satanic stare and he began to watch every, single miniscule move I made. He criticized, ridiculed, poked fun at everything I said or did and kept it up all day. He went so far as to come knock on the bathroom door repeatedly if he thought I took too long. I had absolutely no privacy.
According to him, I should be there to serve him, get his beer, refill his glass with Early Times (or whatever cheap ass shit he was drinking), make him something to eat, sit down with him and keep him company, wait on him hand and foot, keep the house clean, all the while simultaneously being his source of amusement. I was a one woman cooking and cleaning crew, entertainment entourage...all the while trying to take care of my animals and doing my other work.
His mood darkened, there was a sense of foreboding...I became acutely aware of his every movement, his actions, his changing mannerisms and speech. I was borderline neurotic and paranoid - and his true-to-form self hadn't even manifested yet.
Josh started arguing with me. He got up and followed me around the house as I tried desperately to put distance between the two of us. Eventually he caught me, grabbing my arm and getting in my face so he could threaten me up close and personal. Something triggered his rage and he felt the need to share it with me.
The anxiety was building like a mountain in my chest. I was having trouble breathing, thinking, moving. Was this going to be the fight where he would finally kill me? Would anyone hear me if I screamed? What would happen to my animals if I died? Would he kill them too? As the merry-go-round of thoughts went round and round in my head, as he was getting in my face to rant and rave some more, I lost control and screamed "I HATE YOU - I wish you were dead"! I couldn't take it any more. I was drawing my line in the sand. I could NOT live like this anymore, being in fear constantly for my life, having no life outside of him, fear that he would kill my animals out of sheer spite...
Suddenly Josh got this strange look on his face and turned his back to me. He went storming down the hall and into the bedroom. He left me standing in my weight-room/library shaking and wondering what he was going to to do me now. He returned about one minute later (although it seemed like forever) with a loaded shotgun.
To be continued...
Valentine's Day is one of those "almost" holidays that I don't always choose to celebrate. Normally I'm alone and not in a relationship, so why celebrate? This year I was with Josh and I was unsure if celebrating this abominable relationship was really such a fantastic idea. It was a curse, not a blessing to be with this evil, devil-spawn, son-of-a-bitch.
The day started out pretty much like all the rest. Josh was drinking to see just how drunk he could get before he passed out, I was doing the usual cleaning and other household chores while walking on eggshells. Nothing good was going to come out of his drinking and I was full aware of that, yet too scared to voice my objections for fear of the physical retribution that usually followed. The tension in the house was higher than usual, I was as jumpy as a frog in a blender and my puppy-dog was hiding in the back room. My poor Beagle...even she sensed what was coming. She too had been on the receiving end of Josh's constant tirades (unbeknownst to me at the time - he would beat her while I was at work).
How the whole argument started that afternoon, is a mystery to me. Josh got that look in his eyes - the dark, burn through your soul, evil, satanic stare and he began to watch every, single miniscule move I made. He criticized, ridiculed, poked fun at everything I said or did and kept it up all day. He went so far as to come knock on the bathroom door repeatedly if he thought I took too long. I had absolutely no privacy.
According to him, I should be there to serve him, get his beer, refill his glass with Early Times (or whatever cheap ass shit he was drinking), make him something to eat, sit down with him and keep him company, wait on him hand and foot, keep the house clean, all the while simultaneously being his source of amusement. I was a one woman cooking and cleaning crew, entertainment entourage...all the while trying to take care of my animals and doing my other work.
His mood darkened, there was a sense of foreboding...I became acutely aware of his every movement, his actions, his changing mannerisms and speech. I was borderline neurotic and paranoid - and his true-to-form self hadn't even manifested yet.
Josh started arguing with me. He got up and followed me around the house as I tried desperately to put distance between the two of us. Eventually he caught me, grabbing my arm and getting in my face so he could threaten me up close and personal. Something triggered his rage and he felt the need to share it with me.
The anxiety was building like a mountain in my chest. I was having trouble breathing, thinking, moving. Was this going to be the fight where he would finally kill me? Would anyone hear me if I screamed? What would happen to my animals if I died? Would he kill them too? As the merry-go-round of thoughts went round and round in my head, as he was getting in my face to rant and rave some more, I lost control and screamed "I HATE YOU - I wish you were dead"! I couldn't take it any more. I was drawing my line in the sand. I could NOT live like this anymore, being in fear constantly for my life, having no life outside of him, fear that he would kill my animals out of sheer spite...
Suddenly Josh got this strange look on his face and turned his back to me. He went storming down the hall and into the bedroom. He left me standing in my weight-room/library shaking and wondering what he was going to to do me now. He returned about one minute later (although it seemed like forever) with a loaded shotgun.
To be continued...
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
MPS - Part 6
The move to the new house was a time consuming task, as we only had my one pick-up truck and my small hatch-back car. Thankfully the new house was only a few streets away from the old, crappy, no running water, rotting house. And I moved furniture and boxes out of the old place like my ass was on fire. I could not get away from that place fast enough.
The new house was bright, happy, warm and inviting. It smelled clean, fresh and it gave me a renewed sense of life and hope. I would stand in the kitchen just to feel the warm rays of sunshine on my face that were beaming through the back door, drink in the soft scent of freshly washed curtains, while breathing a contented sigh. This time it would not be just a house, but a home. I could feel it in every fiber of my body. And it felt good.
One afternoon after unpacking some more boxes, Josh decided that he'd rather go out with Gerald than help me. Since that was nothing new, I just asked when he'd be home. Josh ignored my question, got a major attitude and stormed out of the house...taking the keys to MY car and driving off in a cloud of dust. That son-of-a-bitch did it again. We had the discussion months ago about him taking my car without asking and it was agreed that he'd ask from now on, as it was not HIS car to take. So much for that discussion. Yet another promise he'd made to me was broken, shattered like an eggshell that's been ravaged by a raccoon.
When he finally came back (early the next morning), he was so drunk he could barely walk. I have no clue how he drove my car home and didn't get into an accident or get pulled over by the cops. I was furious. Josh did whatever the f*ck he wanted to and I had to stay at home because according to his rules, I could not go out, have friends or leave the house without his permission. Well guess what...I've had enough of this shit. I don't care how big and violent his fat ass is...I'm putting my foot down and not tolerating this any more.
I'd had enough of his drinking. When we lived in the apartment, his drinking got worse and he was more open with it. Then when we moved to the rental house, he began drinking all the time and didn't give a rat's ass what I said about it. I got smacked if I said anything. Of course the stupid mother-f*cker always wanted to molest me when he was drunk as a fart. Wanna talk about gross? Being forced to have sex with a drunk, fat, stinky, abusive man...and on top of it all (no pun intended) he had a super small "member". I shit you not. When he'd lay down, the bitch would disappear in the mass of fat rolls. Are you feeling my pain now?
While still living in the apartment, one day he got so drunk before we were supposed to go to Laura & Gerald's for dinner, that I drove him to their house, dropped his ass off in front of their house and hauled ass back home. You should've seen the look on his face when he shut my truck door and I put her in gear and took off like a shot from a cannon! Of course he proceeded to call me every few minutes on my cell phone begging me to come get him, sniveling and telling me he'd stop drinking. I said "hell no, we're through, stay there and never, ever come back".
The next day after that incident, Laura called me and asked me to reconsider. She said Josh had been miserable all night, broke down crying at one point and then drunk so much that he passed out on her couch. Laura was my best friend and very persuasive. I trusted her and never thought she'd put me in danger. After speaking with her for quite a long time, I agreed to give the relationship one final try - but the drinking had to stop and he had to meet me halfway on things. Of course the backstabbing bitch didn't tell me that Josh had pissed, puked and shit all over her couch while he was passed out. I found that out much, much later.
Fast forward to the new house...about one or two months after we moved in...the old behaviors are resurfacing at break-neck speed. One minute I'm living with a nice, charming, handsome, caring man and the next...I turn around to find I'm sharing a house with a violent criminal who is also a psychopath. Josh is drinking again, going out, not telling me where he's going or when he's coming home, stealing my car, not going to work, lying about everything and threatening me when I continually catch him up to no good and breaking promises. By this time, I'm scared to death and try my damndest to not upset him for fear of him beating the immortal shit out of me for opening my mouth and questioning him. I had to be careful how I looked at him too...he had a hair trigger and anything I said, did or wore would set him off. If I was breathing funny and he was in a bad mood...it spelled trouble for me.
The tension in the house was palpable. I walked on eggshells. I made sure I left for work at the exact same time every morning, came home right on time, and only ran errands or went to Laura & Gerald's house when he gave permission...or he went with me. Even a 5 minute variation in my schedule would peak his curiosity and he'd start accusing me of cheating with someone...and from there, the fights would get ugly. I didn't even have to participate to engage his wrath. Then came Valentine's Day...
To be continued...
The new house was bright, happy, warm and inviting. It smelled clean, fresh and it gave me a renewed sense of life and hope. I would stand in the kitchen just to feel the warm rays of sunshine on my face that were beaming through the back door, drink in the soft scent of freshly washed curtains, while breathing a contented sigh. This time it would not be just a house, but a home. I could feel it in every fiber of my body. And it felt good.
One afternoon after unpacking some more boxes, Josh decided that he'd rather go out with Gerald than help me. Since that was nothing new, I just asked when he'd be home. Josh ignored my question, got a major attitude and stormed out of the house...taking the keys to MY car and driving off in a cloud of dust. That son-of-a-bitch did it again. We had the discussion months ago about him taking my car without asking and it was agreed that he'd ask from now on, as it was not HIS car to take. So much for that discussion. Yet another promise he'd made to me was broken, shattered like an eggshell that's been ravaged by a raccoon.
When he finally came back (early the next morning), he was so drunk he could barely walk. I have no clue how he drove my car home and didn't get into an accident or get pulled over by the cops. I was furious. Josh did whatever the f*ck he wanted to and I had to stay at home because according to his rules, I could not go out, have friends or leave the house without his permission. Well guess what...I've had enough of this shit. I don't care how big and violent his fat ass is...I'm putting my foot down and not tolerating this any more.
I'd had enough of his drinking. When we lived in the apartment, his drinking got worse and he was more open with it. Then when we moved to the rental house, he began drinking all the time and didn't give a rat's ass what I said about it. I got smacked if I said anything. Of course the stupid mother-f*cker always wanted to molest me when he was drunk as a fart. Wanna talk about gross? Being forced to have sex with a drunk, fat, stinky, abusive man...and on top of it all (no pun intended) he had a super small "member". I shit you not. When he'd lay down, the bitch would disappear in the mass of fat rolls. Are you feeling my pain now?
While still living in the apartment, one day he got so drunk before we were supposed to go to Laura & Gerald's for dinner, that I drove him to their house, dropped his ass off in front of their house and hauled ass back home. You should've seen the look on his face when he shut my truck door and I put her in gear and took off like a shot from a cannon! Of course he proceeded to call me every few minutes on my cell phone begging me to come get him, sniveling and telling me he'd stop drinking. I said "hell no, we're through, stay there and never, ever come back".
The next day after that incident, Laura called me and asked me to reconsider. She said Josh had been miserable all night, broke down crying at one point and then drunk so much that he passed out on her couch. Laura was my best friend and very persuasive. I trusted her and never thought she'd put me in danger. After speaking with her for quite a long time, I agreed to give the relationship one final try - but the drinking had to stop and he had to meet me halfway on things. Of course the backstabbing bitch didn't tell me that Josh had pissed, puked and shit all over her couch while he was passed out. I found that out much, much later.
Fast forward to the new house...about one or two months after we moved in...the old behaviors are resurfacing at break-neck speed. One minute I'm living with a nice, charming, handsome, caring man and the next...I turn around to find I'm sharing a house with a violent criminal who is also a psychopath. Josh is drinking again, going out, not telling me where he's going or when he's coming home, stealing my car, not going to work, lying about everything and threatening me when I continually catch him up to no good and breaking promises. By this time, I'm scared to death and try my damndest to not upset him for fear of him beating the immortal shit out of me for opening my mouth and questioning him. I had to be careful how I looked at him too...he had a hair trigger and anything I said, did or wore would set him off. If I was breathing funny and he was in a bad mood...it spelled trouble for me.
The tension in the house was palpable. I walked on eggshells. I made sure I left for work at the exact same time every morning, came home right on time, and only ran errands or went to Laura & Gerald's house when he gave permission...or he went with me. Even a 5 minute variation in my schedule would peak his curiosity and he'd start accusing me of cheating with someone...and from there, the fights would get ugly. I didn't even have to participate to engage his wrath. Then came Valentine's Day...
To be continued...
Friday, October 9, 2009
My Psycho Stalker - Part 5
After the black eye incident, I kept a permanent smile on my face so nobody would ever know that I was a victim of abuse. Again. I pushed most of my friends aside, mostly because he didn't allow me to socialize with anyone, including family.
A few months later, tempers escalated once again. He came home from work and as I went to kiss him, I noticed he smelled like pot. (I do not condone the use, and I forbid it in my house - plus I'm allergic to it. I have asthma attacks from the stench). I confronted him on the issue and first he lied and denied everything. I got mad and said "that's it, I'm through. This is the last straw. I do NOT cohabitate with druggies". You'd think that I would've learned to keep my mouth shut by now. Nope. We got into an argument, then he started threatening me and it got violent again.
The final straw was the house we were renting from his boss was a total piece of shit. I'm very allergic to mold...every time it rained, the roof leaked and the water ran down the roof supports to the ceiling and then to the bathroom door frame, all over the wood floor. That's a sound I will never forget...the sudden onset of rain INSIDE the house! No matter how much I cleaned, there was still mold. Plus the roof and supports were rotting. Needless to say, I could never breathe in the house and I was miserable. But I knew better than to complain.
Then the well ran dry. After no water for a few weeks, the slum lord finally had a new well drilled. Are you ready for this? All we got out of the faucet was black water. I shit you not...I spent so much money on Diamond Springs water, I should've bought stock in the company. And we had to shower at Josh's work after hours. That was creepy for me. Of course I got fed up with all the bullshit and we started arguing. I threatened to move out and leave him there, since he wanted to stay so badly. And then I accused him of being afraid to stand up to his boss and tell him his house is a fucking piece of shit and we weren't paying rent. I paid for those remarks, believe me.
I was thoroughly fed up, so I began looking for a house to buy. I was done with renting from assholes who didn't care that the roof was leaking or that there was NO water in the house. I finally found a house in the same area that I could afford on my own, that was close to my work (within walking distance!) and close to Josh's work (not quite walking distance for his fat ass, although I could have done it). I went through the "real estate dance" and eventually purchased the house.
The Sellers were so kind. I explained to them that I was living in a rented house and had been without water for months, etc. We struck up a deal whereby I would pay the Sellers rent for 2 weeks until we closed on the house. God bless them!! I hugged them both (husband and wife) and the realtor. I had a house with clean, running water!!
I bought the house just before Christmas - Merry Christmas to me!! It happens to be the house I still live in now. I had high hopes that we could work out our problems now and maybe go to counseling (for him) now that we had the stress of the shit-house off our backs and had a nice, new place to live. Yes with clean, running water and a roof that didn't leak!!
But alas...my dreams were short lived. To be continued...
A few months later, tempers escalated once again. He came home from work and as I went to kiss him, I noticed he smelled like pot. (I do not condone the use, and I forbid it in my house - plus I'm allergic to it. I have asthma attacks from the stench). I confronted him on the issue and first he lied and denied everything. I got mad and said "that's it, I'm through. This is the last straw. I do NOT cohabitate with druggies". You'd think that I would've learned to keep my mouth shut by now. Nope. We got into an argument, then he started threatening me and it got violent again.
The final straw was the house we were renting from his boss was a total piece of shit. I'm very allergic to mold...every time it rained, the roof leaked and the water ran down the roof supports to the ceiling and then to the bathroom door frame, all over the wood floor. That's a sound I will never forget...the sudden onset of rain INSIDE the house! No matter how much I cleaned, there was still mold. Plus the roof and supports were rotting. Needless to say, I could never breathe in the house and I was miserable. But I knew better than to complain.
Then the well ran dry. After no water for a few weeks, the slum lord finally had a new well drilled. Are you ready for this? All we got out of the faucet was black water. I shit you not...I spent so much money on Diamond Springs water, I should've bought stock in the company. And we had to shower at Josh's work after hours. That was creepy for me. Of course I got fed up with all the bullshit and we started arguing. I threatened to move out and leave him there, since he wanted to stay so badly. And then I accused him of being afraid to stand up to his boss and tell him his house is a fucking piece of shit and we weren't paying rent. I paid for those remarks, believe me.
I was thoroughly fed up, so I began looking for a house to buy. I was done with renting from assholes who didn't care that the roof was leaking or that there was NO water in the house. I finally found a house in the same area that I could afford on my own, that was close to my work (within walking distance!) and close to Josh's work (not quite walking distance for his fat ass, although I could have done it). I went through the "real estate dance" and eventually purchased the house.
The Sellers were so kind. I explained to them that I was living in a rented house and had been without water for months, etc. We struck up a deal whereby I would pay the Sellers rent for 2 weeks until we closed on the house. God bless them!! I hugged them both (husband and wife) and the realtor. I had a house with clean, running water!!
I bought the house just before Christmas - Merry Christmas to me!! It happens to be the house I still live in now. I had high hopes that we could work out our problems now and maybe go to counseling (for him) now that we had the stress of the shit-house off our backs and had a nice, new place to live. Yes with clean, running water and a roof that didn't leak!!
But alas...my dreams were short lived. To be continued...
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
My Psycho Stalker - Part 4
Like I said earlier...Josh's true colors were beginning to show. I had a great job with a local attorney and we were very close. Before I met Josh, my boss knew I lived alone, had no family in the state and pretty much kept to myself. He and his wife used to invite me over for dinner, picnics, holiday get-togethers, etc. with their two kids who were about ten years younger than me. We were all close and I was pretty much adopted by them. It was great.
About a month or so after moving into the new house, one evening Josh and I got into another one of our arguments. They were occuring more frequently than not. It seemed every little thing pissed him off, like me talking to what few friends I had, if I was a few minutes late coming home from work, if I left for work early, what I was doing at work, who I was talking to, etc. He was paranoid and obsessed.
This fight turned physical. His temper flared quickly - much more so than mine. After the argument escalated into a screaming match (because I don't like people getting in my face no matter how big they are), he shoved me into my desk, hard. After bouncing off the desk, I steadied myself and stood back up. Then he got really pissed off and hit me in the face. I was dazed and having flashbacks of my biological father (another piece of shit in my life) beating me and always hitting me in the head/face. If there was one lesson I learned as a small child, it was to shut the hell up when someone is beating the shit out of you and they have the upper hand, so to speak. Josh was blocking my escape from the room and had me cornered behind my desk. I stood there and tried my damndest not to cry, to no avail.
He suddenly became sorry and rushed over to hug me and tried to take a look at my face to see what damage he'd done. I didn't want the son-of-a-bitch touching me, so I turned away and tried to walk away. In hindsight, that was NOT a good move on my part. He grabbed my arm hard and made me face him so he could look at me. I think at this time he was trying to cover his ass because he knew I'd have marks on my face, arms, back and legs. Sure enough, I was going to have a beautiful black eye and swollen nose.
After the commotion and emotions calmed down, we sat in the living room and I barely said a word. I was afraid he'd go off the deep end again and attack me. We'd been together a few months now and I was slowly learning that he HAD to control me completely or else he'd freak out and accuse me of all kinds of weird shit. Of course, as we went to bed, he wanted to have sex. Oh gross...just what I want...the fat, f*cking asshole who beat me up touching me. Ok, I'd been through this before...my brain disassociated itself from my body and went someplace else until he was done (which didn't take long).
The next day at work, my very observant boss (did I tell you he was an attorney?) noticed that I was avoiding him and the other girl in the office. This was a small office and there were only four of us working there - me, my boss, the other girl and one other attorney. My boss finally cornered me and took one look at my face and yelled "what the hell happened to you?". Of course the other girl comes running and says "ah ha, I knew it. He hit you, didn't he?". Out of fear, I played the whole thing down and said I ran into a door...again. After about a half hour of my denying that Josh hit me, my boss took me in his office and told me "if I find out he put his hands on you...I'll kill him". WHOA, this out of my timid, respectable boss!
My boss and I had a long talk that day. There were tears shed by both parties and he warned me - if I ever got pregnant by this monster (Josh), he would be the first one to take me to a clinic for an abortion. There was NO way in hell he was going to allow me to have this monster's child if by chance I became pregnant. You see, I'd told him that I found out that Josh was messing with my birth control pills and I had to carry them with me 24/7 so he couldn't get to them. I was a nervous wreck.
To be continued...
About a month or so after moving into the new house, one evening Josh and I got into another one of our arguments. They were occuring more frequently than not. It seemed every little thing pissed him off, like me talking to what few friends I had, if I was a few minutes late coming home from work, if I left for work early, what I was doing at work, who I was talking to, etc. He was paranoid and obsessed.
This fight turned physical. His temper flared quickly - much more so than mine. After the argument escalated into a screaming match (because I don't like people getting in my face no matter how big they are), he shoved me into my desk, hard. After bouncing off the desk, I steadied myself and stood back up. Then he got really pissed off and hit me in the face. I was dazed and having flashbacks of my biological father (another piece of shit in my life) beating me and always hitting me in the head/face. If there was one lesson I learned as a small child, it was to shut the hell up when someone is beating the shit out of you and they have the upper hand, so to speak. Josh was blocking my escape from the room and had me cornered behind my desk. I stood there and tried my damndest not to cry, to no avail.
He suddenly became sorry and rushed over to hug me and tried to take a look at my face to see what damage he'd done. I didn't want the son-of-a-bitch touching me, so I turned away and tried to walk away. In hindsight, that was NOT a good move on my part. He grabbed my arm hard and made me face him so he could look at me. I think at this time he was trying to cover his ass because he knew I'd have marks on my face, arms, back and legs. Sure enough, I was going to have a beautiful black eye and swollen nose.
After the commotion and emotions calmed down, we sat in the living room and I barely said a word. I was afraid he'd go off the deep end again and attack me. We'd been together a few months now and I was slowly learning that he HAD to control me completely or else he'd freak out and accuse me of all kinds of weird shit. Of course, as we went to bed, he wanted to have sex. Oh gross...just what I want...the fat, f*cking asshole who beat me up touching me. Ok, I'd been through this before...my brain disassociated itself from my body and went someplace else until he was done (which didn't take long).
The next day at work, my very observant boss (did I tell you he was an attorney?) noticed that I was avoiding him and the other girl in the office. This was a small office and there were only four of us working there - me, my boss, the other girl and one other attorney. My boss finally cornered me and took one look at my face and yelled "what the hell happened to you?". Of course the other girl comes running and says "ah ha, I knew it. He hit you, didn't he?". Out of fear, I played the whole thing down and said I ran into a door...again. After about a half hour of my denying that Josh hit me, my boss took me in his office and told me "if I find out he put his hands on you...I'll kill him". WHOA, this out of my timid, respectable boss!
My boss and I had a long talk that day. There were tears shed by both parties and he warned me - if I ever got pregnant by this monster (Josh), he would be the first one to take me to a clinic for an abortion. There was NO way in hell he was going to allow me to have this monster's child if by chance I became pregnant. You see, I'd told him that I found out that Josh was messing with my birth control pills and I had to carry them with me 24/7 so he couldn't get to them. I was a nervous wreck.
To be continued...
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
My Psycho Stalker - Part 3
The next day after the cookout with Laura and Gerald, Josh and I got into a heated argument about his ex-wife. I was furious with him for not telling me all about that saga and he was not pleased with me for trying to go after her. Well you know what...too damn bad. She shouldn't have opened her big toothless mouth and called me a "f*cking c*nt". It would've served her right to get her ass kicked.
He stayed home with me that day and he had a few drinks. Little did I know, he had a drinking problem. Have you ever heard the old adage "instant asshole, add alcohol"? Yep...that was him. He got an attitude, I ignored him and we worked it out for the moment. Josh started telling me more and more of his background (which he did every now and then when he was drinking) and family. What is truth and what is fiction, I have no idea.
Cyndi Lauper sang the song "True Colors" a long time ago. I never realized how true those words were until I lived with this character for awhile. At the time, I had a small car and my truck. I'd purchased the truck for myself as a birthday present a year or two before (after saving for 10 years) and didn't want to get rid of my little car. You guessed it - Josh didn't have reliable transportation and asked if he could use my car to go back and forth to work if he couldn't find a ride. Since I got sick and tired of being the backup who took him to and from work, I said sure. That was a mistake. (Mind you, a big, fat guy in a little Isuzu I-Mark 2 door car). He was NOT allowed to touch my truck. Nobody touches my truck!
So me being the nice person that I am, I let him use the car - which soon became all the time. Every now and then he would put gas in it (how mighty white of him), I paid the insurance, taxes, registration and maintenance on the car.
Not too long after he moved in with me, we had to move. The mother-in-law apartment I was living in was too inconvenient. The downstairs neighbors were total jackasses, they were loud and I think they were selling drugs out of the house. They had visitors 24/7 who would always park in front of my vehicles so we could never leave. Also the landlord (slum lord) didn't separate the utilities for the two places, so I ended up paying more than my fair share of the bills. Yes, when you are renting two apartments out of one house, you are supposed to have two separate accounts/meters for the utilities. This jerk didn't do that. Too bad I didn't know that before I signed the lease agreement.
Anyway, we started looking for a place closer to where he worked because Josh wanted to walk to work. He told me he wanted to lose his extra weight and get back in shape. After looking for awhile, he said he could rent this little house that his boss owned. So we moved.
The house was adorable and there was a huge yard, which I loved. It was pretty much in the backyard of where he worked, so he could go back and forth easily without having to use my car. It was also closer to where I was working and I was saving commute time and gas money. Ahhh, life was grand.
Little did I know, this would be the "evil house". Not too long after we moved in, Josh began to have temper tantrums and when we got into arguments, he'd get physical. It began slowly with either a shove or him grabbing my arm or slamming a door in my face. But it soon escalated to much more than that.
To be continued...
He stayed home with me that day and he had a few drinks. Little did I know, he had a drinking problem. Have you ever heard the old adage "instant asshole, add alcohol"? Yep...that was him. He got an attitude, I ignored him and we worked it out for the moment. Josh started telling me more and more of his background (which he did every now and then when he was drinking) and family. What is truth and what is fiction, I have no idea.
Cyndi Lauper sang the song "True Colors" a long time ago. I never realized how true those words were until I lived with this character for awhile. At the time, I had a small car and my truck. I'd purchased the truck for myself as a birthday present a year or two before (after saving for 10 years) and didn't want to get rid of my little car. You guessed it - Josh didn't have reliable transportation and asked if he could use my car to go back and forth to work if he couldn't find a ride. Since I got sick and tired of being the backup who took him to and from work, I said sure. That was a mistake. (Mind you, a big, fat guy in a little Isuzu I-Mark 2 door car). He was NOT allowed to touch my truck. Nobody touches my truck!
So me being the nice person that I am, I let him use the car - which soon became all the time. Every now and then he would put gas in it (how mighty white of him), I paid the insurance, taxes, registration and maintenance on the car.
Not too long after he moved in with me, we had to move. The mother-in-law apartment I was living in was too inconvenient. The downstairs neighbors were total jackasses, they were loud and I think they were selling drugs out of the house. They had visitors 24/7 who would always park in front of my vehicles so we could never leave. Also the landlord (slum lord) didn't separate the utilities for the two places, so I ended up paying more than my fair share of the bills. Yes, when you are renting two apartments out of one house, you are supposed to have two separate accounts/meters for the utilities. This jerk didn't do that. Too bad I didn't know that before I signed the lease agreement.
Anyway, we started looking for a place closer to where he worked because Josh wanted to walk to work. He told me he wanted to lose his extra weight and get back in shape. After looking for awhile, he said he could rent this little house that his boss owned. So we moved.
The house was adorable and there was a huge yard, which I loved. It was pretty much in the backyard of where he worked, so he could go back and forth easily without having to use my car. It was also closer to where I was working and I was saving commute time and gas money. Ahhh, life was grand.
Little did I know, this would be the "evil house". Not too long after we moved in, Josh began to have temper tantrums and when we got into arguments, he'd get physical. It began slowly with either a shove or him grabbing my arm or slamming a door in my face. But it soon escalated to much more than that.
To be continued...
Monday, October 5, 2009
My Psycho Stalker - Part 2
So...to recap from last time, Josh and I decided to move in together. Of course he moved in with me into my tiny mother-in-law type apartment. He lived two houses away from Laura and Gerald, but I didn't want to move into someone else's house "just in case". I've always been independent and that wasn't about to change now. Plus I didn't realize his ex-wife was still living there. Oh yea, this gets ugly.
I let him move in with me. We were invited to Laura and Gerald's for another dinner, which had become a tradition with the four of us. We would alternate houses for dinner about once every two weeks, schedules allowing. As usual, I bring dessert to the cookout and we are sitting in the backyard having a few drinks. Gerald was cooking on the grill, Laura was setting up the table in the backyard and I was sitting on Josh's lap enjoying being outdoors and relaxing. Suddenly this haggard looking, wrinkled up old bitch comes up to the fence between Laura and Gerald's property and the next door neighbor and starts yelling at me and Josh. I'm flabbergasted and have NO clue who this crazy woman is, nor why she is yelling obscenities at us.
Laura comes running out of the house just as I stand up and ask the old bitch what exactly her damn malfunction is and who the hell she thinks she is yelling at me like that when I have no clue who she is. It gets better, trust me! Laura is trying to drag me into the house quickly while Josh goes over to the fence and begins to argue with the old broad. As I'm walking/being drug up the back stairs to the house, I hear the old bitch call me a "f*cking c&nt". Really?! That's it, the bitch shall die tonight! I throw Laura off me, push Gerald out of the way and start running over to her to jump the fence and kick her sorry ass. NOBODY calls me that and gets away with it! Josh takes a few steps towards me trying to intercede, Gerald runs up behind me, grabs me and picks me up off the ground. Gerald then drags me into the house (my feet never touched the ground - he had me in the air) and tells Laura to keep me inside before I killed this crazy bitch and knocked the rest of her teeth out of her head.
I calmed down (for appearances only) and pretended to engage Laura in a meaningless conversation while I calmy and carefully took off all my jewelry, placed it on her coffee table in the living room, and took off my 4" stiletto heels. Well Laura thinks I'm calm enough for her to go into the kitchen and check the oven. I seize the moment and haul ass out the back door, fly down the stairs, hurling obscenities and threats at the old bitch...and am just about ready to vault over the fence when Gerald and Josh grab me, pick me up again (told you I was small) and drag me back into the house. They about handcuffed me to the post in the kitchen because I almost got away from Gerald again. I wasn't afraid of him and I used one of my "maneuvers" on him. I didn't hurt him. I stunned him. I was furious and wanted a f*cking explanation NOW.
Josh finished his shouting match with the old bitch and came into the house. I was furious and demanded he tell me who she was and what she was yelling at me for. He said "oh that's just my ex-wife who still lives two houses over. She saw us and wanted to know who I was and why I was with you. Then she yelled at me for a bunch of other shit", etc. WHAT?! You have an ex-wife? And she's more than 20 years older than you?! That ancient, raggly-ass, no toothed, shrieking, wrinkled-up old crazy bitch is your ex-wife?! Why did you not tell me this before? Then he tells me that their divorce is almost final. What the f*ck do you mean almost final? Oh hell no, I'm outta here. By this time, I've already gone past the point of being pissed off and I'm crying, which makes me even madder because I don't usually cry.
Laura and Gerald talk me into staying so we can all talk. Well, they ARE my best friends...ok, let's talk this out. And I'd better hear some damn good explanations or someone (Josh) is going to be looking for a new place to stay and a new girlfriend!
We talk for most of the night. I calm down after hearing why the divorce was delayed (her fault, of course...so he says) and after being reassured numerous times that he loves ME and he wants to be with me. Of course Gerald is laughing his ass off at how agile I am and how I almost got away from him. He said he was also shocked when I almost outmaneuvered him and almost got away. He and Laura were pretty impressed with my strength and agility...cat-like reflexes. Surprise! Don't underestimate me.
After dinner, we had a drink, watched a movie and Josh and I went home. I was assured that scene would not happen again because the old bitch was supposed to have moved already, and would definitely be moving shortly out of the neighborhood. She was supposed to move to Arizona to be with her daughter.
At my apartment, Josh is being just as nice as pie to me. He's being the perfect gentleman, going the whole 9 yards so to speak. It's late, so we go to bed without any further discussion. The next day, his true colors start to show. Little did I know what I had gotten myself into.
To be continued...
I let him move in with me. We were invited to Laura and Gerald's for another dinner, which had become a tradition with the four of us. We would alternate houses for dinner about once every two weeks, schedules allowing. As usual, I bring dessert to the cookout and we are sitting in the backyard having a few drinks. Gerald was cooking on the grill, Laura was setting up the table in the backyard and I was sitting on Josh's lap enjoying being outdoors and relaxing. Suddenly this haggard looking, wrinkled up old bitch comes up to the fence between Laura and Gerald's property and the next door neighbor and starts yelling at me and Josh. I'm flabbergasted and have NO clue who this crazy woman is, nor why she is yelling obscenities at us.
Laura comes running out of the house just as I stand up and ask the old bitch what exactly her damn malfunction is and who the hell she thinks she is yelling at me like that when I have no clue who she is. It gets better, trust me! Laura is trying to drag me into the house quickly while Josh goes over to the fence and begins to argue with the old broad. As I'm walking/being drug up the back stairs to the house, I hear the old bitch call me a "f*cking c&nt". Really?! That's it, the bitch shall die tonight! I throw Laura off me, push Gerald out of the way and start running over to her to jump the fence and kick her sorry ass. NOBODY calls me that and gets away with it! Josh takes a few steps towards me trying to intercede, Gerald runs up behind me, grabs me and picks me up off the ground. Gerald then drags me into the house (my feet never touched the ground - he had me in the air) and tells Laura to keep me inside before I killed this crazy bitch and knocked the rest of her teeth out of her head.
I calmed down (for appearances only) and pretended to engage Laura in a meaningless conversation while I calmy and carefully took off all my jewelry, placed it on her coffee table in the living room, and took off my 4" stiletto heels. Well Laura thinks I'm calm enough for her to go into the kitchen and check the oven. I seize the moment and haul ass out the back door, fly down the stairs, hurling obscenities and threats at the old bitch...and am just about ready to vault over the fence when Gerald and Josh grab me, pick me up again (told you I was small) and drag me back into the house. They about handcuffed me to the post in the kitchen because I almost got away from Gerald again. I wasn't afraid of him and I used one of my "maneuvers" on him. I didn't hurt him. I stunned him. I was furious and wanted a f*cking explanation NOW.
Josh finished his shouting match with the old bitch and came into the house. I was furious and demanded he tell me who she was and what she was yelling at me for. He said "oh that's just my ex-wife who still lives two houses over. She saw us and wanted to know who I was and why I was with you. Then she yelled at me for a bunch of other shit", etc. WHAT?! You have an ex-wife? And she's more than 20 years older than you?! That ancient, raggly-ass, no toothed, shrieking, wrinkled-up old crazy bitch is your ex-wife?! Why did you not tell me this before? Then he tells me that their divorce is almost final. What the f*ck do you mean almost final? Oh hell no, I'm outta here. By this time, I've already gone past the point of being pissed off and I'm crying, which makes me even madder because I don't usually cry.
Laura and Gerald talk me into staying so we can all talk. Well, they ARE my best friends...ok, let's talk this out. And I'd better hear some damn good explanations or someone (Josh) is going to be looking for a new place to stay and a new girlfriend!
We talk for most of the night. I calm down after hearing why the divorce was delayed (her fault, of course...so he says) and after being reassured numerous times that he loves ME and he wants to be with me. Of course Gerald is laughing his ass off at how agile I am and how I almost got away from him. He said he was also shocked when I almost outmaneuvered him and almost got away. He and Laura were pretty impressed with my strength and agility...cat-like reflexes. Surprise! Don't underestimate me.
After dinner, we had a drink, watched a movie and Josh and I went home. I was assured that scene would not happen again because the old bitch was supposed to have moved already, and would definitely be moving shortly out of the neighborhood. She was supposed to move to Arizona to be with her daughter.
At my apartment, Josh is being just as nice as pie to me. He's being the perfect gentleman, going the whole 9 yards so to speak. It's late, so we go to bed without any further discussion. The next day, his true colors start to show. Little did I know what I had gotten myself into.
To be continued...
Saturday, October 3, 2009
My Psycho Stalker - Part 1
Here's the story that quite a few folks have asked me to write about. It's painful, scary and it's a living hell for me. I have also changed the names to protect the GUILTY for fear of being sued by these assholes - or from having the 2 psychos come after me again. You'll see what I mean.
It all started about 12 years ago...my (then) best friend Laura and her boyfriend (also a nut-job) Gerald, introduced me to their neighbor/good friend (Josh). It was incidentally Gerald's best friend - go figure, right?
Laura was hosting an event through her work. We all decided it would be a good thing if I met Josh there, a public place. I don't do blind dates - did it once and it was horrible. So Laura introduces me to Josh. We meet, talk for a bit, and then I walk around to look at the different booths and my favorite NASCAR driver's car (Terry LaBonte). I had one of guys there take pictures of me standing next to the car while Josh walked around and began to imbibe far too much of the amber beverages.
I was in hog heaven admiring my favorite driver's car, asking the guy who was in charge a million questions, when Josh walks up and asks me to walk around with him so we can talk. No problem, that would be nice to talk and get to know him...after all he IS kinda cute and charming, even though he's a bit on the hefty side. That's when I realized he was totally shit-faced. Fan-f*cking-tastic! What a way to make a first impression.
I spotted Laura and broke away from Josh for a minute and asked her "what the hell are you doing? This guy is drunk as hell!" She assured me that it was ok and a fluke thing. She said Josh and Gerald had been out earlier fishing and drinking...and you know how boys get. Ok, I'll give him a chance - remember, I trusted Laura who was supposed to be my best friend. Laura and I were extremely close.
It gets better...after being there for a few hours, I decide to go home because I was still in my work clothes (this event was after work), it was starting to get dark and I was exhausted. Plus by this time, Josh is so f*cked up that he is becoming an embarassment and LOUD. I said good-bye to Laura and Josh walked me to my car. He tells me to wait a minute, walks between two cars and right in front of God and everyone...pisses into the street! WTF?! Oh hell no. I left right then and there. Later on I called Laura and asked her what the hell Josh's malfunction is and if he's nuts. She says no and apologizes profusely.
Laura calls me up a few days later and invites me to come over for a cookout. Sure, no problem, I'd love to go. Plus I wanted to spend some time with Laura anyway. I went there all the time for cookouts, to watch movies, or just hang out with Laura and Gerald (when he's there). I show up with dessert and guess who is sitting in the backyard with Gerald? Yeaaa you guessed it...Josh. Oh shit, talk about an awkward situation. And I can't leave because they've all already seen me. Ok, let's make the best of this.
Gerald walks up and gives me a big hug (as usual), then re-introduces me to Josh. Josh apologizes profusely for his abominable behavior at the event and swears he doesn't act like that - it was the alcohol. So we all sit down in the backyard and just talk about anything and everything. My, my, my Josh is quite the charmer. Who knew? Plus he did clean up well and looked smashing in his jeans and sleeveless shirt, which showed off his muscles and tattoos. Or maybe it was the brown hair and brown eyes that got me too...either way, I was intrigued.
Josh asked me out for a date and I accepted. Laura and Gerald were quite pleased with themselves for setting us up. The four of us had quite a bit of fun double dating, having more cookouts at Laura and Gerald's house, going canoeing (girls in one and guys in the other!) and fishing.
It was a great courtship and Josh seemed like a great guy. He was attentive, caring, protective and was an absolute gentleman (I know, hard to believe after that first impression). After a few months, we talked at great length with Laura and Gerald (just to get an outside opinion) about the two of us (me & Josh) moving in together. Oh my gosh...Laura and Gerald could not have been happier about our decision. They thought it was the best thing in the world. Hey, if my best friend is for it and she's happy...what can go wrong?
Part 2 - tomorrow...stay tuned and please sign up to "follow" me. If you'd like to leave comments, I'd be thrilled. It's nice to know that there are folks out there reading my life story.
It all started about 12 years ago...my (then) best friend Laura and her boyfriend (also a nut-job) Gerald, introduced me to their neighbor/good friend (Josh). It was incidentally Gerald's best friend - go figure, right?
Laura was hosting an event through her work. We all decided it would be a good thing if I met Josh there, a public place. I don't do blind dates - did it once and it was horrible. So Laura introduces me to Josh. We meet, talk for a bit, and then I walk around to look at the different booths and my favorite NASCAR driver's car (Terry LaBonte). I had one of guys there take pictures of me standing next to the car while Josh walked around and began to imbibe far too much of the amber beverages.
I was in hog heaven admiring my favorite driver's car, asking the guy who was in charge a million questions, when Josh walks up and asks me to walk around with him so we can talk. No problem, that would be nice to talk and get to know him...after all he IS kinda cute and charming, even though he's a bit on the hefty side. That's when I realized he was totally shit-faced. Fan-f*cking-tastic! What a way to make a first impression.
I spotted Laura and broke away from Josh for a minute and asked her "what the hell are you doing? This guy is drunk as hell!" She assured me that it was ok and a fluke thing. She said Josh and Gerald had been out earlier fishing and drinking...and you know how boys get. Ok, I'll give him a chance - remember, I trusted Laura who was supposed to be my best friend. Laura and I were extremely close.
It gets better...after being there for a few hours, I decide to go home because I was still in my work clothes (this event was after work), it was starting to get dark and I was exhausted. Plus by this time, Josh is so f*cked up that he is becoming an embarassment and LOUD. I said good-bye to Laura and Josh walked me to my car. He tells me to wait a minute, walks between two cars and right in front of God and everyone...pisses into the street! WTF?! Oh hell no. I left right then and there. Later on I called Laura and asked her what the hell Josh's malfunction is and if he's nuts. She says no and apologizes profusely.
Laura calls me up a few days later and invites me to come over for a cookout. Sure, no problem, I'd love to go. Plus I wanted to spend some time with Laura anyway. I went there all the time for cookouts, to watch movies, or just hang out with Laura and Gerald (when he's there). I show up with dessert and guess who is sitting in the backyard with Gerald? Yeaaa you guessed it...Josh. Oh shit, talk about an awkward situation. And I can't leave because they've all already seen me. Ok, let's make the best of this.
Gerald walks up and gives me a big hug (as usual), then re-introduces me to Josh. Josh apologizes profusely for his abominable behavior at the event and swears he doesn't act like that - it was the alcohol. So we all sit down in the backyard and just talk about anything and everything. My, my, my Josh is quite the charmer. Who knew? Plus he did clean up well and looked smashing in his jeans and sleeveless shirt, which showed off his muscles and tattoos. Or maybe it was the brown hair and brown eyes that got me too...either way, I was intrigued.
Josh asked me out for a date and I accepted. Laura and Gerald were quite pleased with themselves for setting us up. The four of us had quite a bit of fun double dating, having more cookouts at Laura and Gerald's house, going canoeing (girls in one and guys in the other!) and fishing.
It was a great courtship and Josh seemed like a great guy. He was attentive, caring, protective and was an absolute gentleman (I know, hard to believe after that first impression). After a few months, we talked at great length with Laura and Gerald (just to get an outside opinion) about the two of us (me & Josh) moving in together. Oh my gosh...Laura and Gerald could not have been happier about our decision. They thought it was the best thing in the world. Hey, if my best friend is for it and she's happy...what can go wrong?
Part 2 - tomorrow...stay tuned and please sign up to "follow" me. If you'd like to leave comments, I'd be thrilled. It's nice to know that there are folks out there reading my life story.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
My Screwed Up Life - Part 3
This will be my last posting on this subject for awhile. I don't want to depress or shock anyone - although I've been told by a few friends that I could've knocked them over with a feather after they read these.
If the support system is strong for the abused person, there is a very good chance that they will recover and be able to function normally. It doesn't matter if it's a close friend, family member, religious figure, teacher or psychiatrist - just so long as there is someone to listen and provide emotional support.
Truth be told, some family members will flat out deny that there was any abuse because they think there is a stigma attached and they don't want to be part of it. I know this from experience. Some of my family members think I lied about what happened. If they only knew the whole story...but I don't think they are mature enough or strong enough to handle it. Let them think what they want. I know the truth and so does my Mom. Sometimes you have to say "F*ck you, you weren't there, you don't know what happened and I don't care what you think" and move on with your life.
It sucks when your own family (some members, not all) deny the whole thing and then disown you! Yes...there are a few members of my family that to this day will NOT speak to me. You know what I think? F*ck them! They didn't take me to raise, I'm free and over 21. I've been on my own since I was 16 and don't need their approval for anything. I just thank God that my Mother knows I've told the truth - and I haven't told her everything either. I don't think she needs to know everything. She's got enough on her plate and I don't want to upset her. I love her too much.
It's all about survival. You have to muster up enough intestinal fortitude to decide to deal with the trauma, get help and rebuild your life. Abuse takes a hefty toll on the human body and mind. You have to be brave enough to reach out to someone, trust them (I know it's not easy to trust), confide in them and take it one step at a time. Recovery won't happen overnight.
I still have issues and I don't deny that. I have a very difficult time trusting people, I still have the nightmares, am controlling (that's how I cope), have OCD and I'm paranoid. At least I'm not a serial killer! I function like any other human being and on the outside, I'm just like you. On the inside...it's a different story, but I deal with it in a constructive manner.
I am very thankful for the few close friends that I do have and that have stuck with me over the years. They accept me even with the eccentric behavior and strange habits I have. Thank God I have them in my life. And I can't forget my Mother. She's been such a blessing - words can't describe how grateful I am to her. My step-father, whom I'm proud to call Dad, has been a blessing as well. Nobody knows he's my step-father and I don't allude to it - hell, we even look alike!
Maybe tomorrow I'll write about my long time stalker...maybe. If there are any topics you'd like me to write about, let me know. Also, you can click on the widget to follow my blog. I would really appreciate it. It means a lot knowing that people care enough to read my life story. Thank you.
If the support system is strong for the abused person, there is a very good chance that they will recover and be able to function normally. It doesn't matter if it's a close friend, family member, religious figure, teacher or psychiatrist - just so long as there is someone to listen and provide emotional support.
Truth be told, some family members will flat out deny that there was any abuse because they think there is a stigma attached and they don't want to be part of it. I know this from experience. Some of my family members think I lied about what happened. If they only knew the whole story...but I don't think they are mature enough or strong enough to handle it. Let them think what they want. I know the truth and so does my Mom. Sometimes you have to say "F*ck you, you weren't there, you don't know what happened and I don't care what you think" and move on with your life.
It sucks when your own family (some members, not all) deny the whole thing and then disown you! Yes...there are a few members of my family that to this day will NOT speak to me. You know what I think? F*ck them! They didn't take me to raise, I'm free and over 21. I've been on my own since I was 16 and don't need their approval for anything. I just thank God that my Mother knows I've told the truth - and I haven't told her everything either. I don't think she needs to know everything. She's got enough on her plate and I don't want to upset her. I love her too much.
It's all about survival. You have to muster up enough intestinal fortitude to decide to deal with the trauma, get help and rebuild your life. Abuse takes a hefty toll on the human body and mind. You have to be brave enough to reach out to someone, trust them (I know it's not easy to trust), confide in them and take it one step at a time. Recovery won't happen overnight.
I still have issues and I don't deny that. I have a very difficult time trusting people, I still have the nightmares, am controlling (that's how I cope), have OCD and I'm paranoid. At least I'm not a serial killer! I function like any other human being and on the outside, I'm just like you. On the inside...it's a different story, but I deal with it in a constructive manner.
I am very thankful for the few close friends that I do have and that have stuck with me over the years. They accept me even with the eccentric behavior and strange habits I have. Thank God I have them in my life. And I can't forget my Mother. She's been such a blessing - words can't describe how grateful I am to her. My step-father, whom I'm proud to call Dad, has been a blessing as well. Nobody knows he's my step-father and I don't allude to it - hell, we even look alike!
Maybe tomorrow I'll write about my long time stalker...maybe. If there are any topics you'd like me to write about, let me know. Also, you can click on the widget to follow my blog. I would really appreciate it. It means a lot knowing that people care enough to read my life story. Thank you.
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