This isn't going to be about punctuation or storytelling. This isn't going to be about grabbing the attention of the reader with stories of fantasy or action or horror. I'm doing this selfishly. To get things off my chest. If anyone reading this can grab some inspiration from it then that's great but I'm doing this for me. I am a former victim of domestic abuse. I'm a 5'1 200+ pound male. I know it's easy to think of fighting back but when the person hitting you says she will tell the cops that you raped her, it's not so easy. I met her through the dating app MeetMe. She was thin, attractive, interesting, artistic, dramatic. Lots of things a guy might look for. I was coming out of a bad break up and she was there to pick up the pieces. Had I known what would happen, I never would have contacted her. After a few short weeks of messaging back and forth, we made plans to meet. I took her to a bar in downtown Las Vegas and we talked. She read stories from her journal. We kissed. And she told me she was married. She told me that she was planning on divorcing him and that he was overseas because he was in the military. As a person coming out of a relationship I guess I related to her saying she felt stuck but it would soon be over. She told me she was raised Mormon and that she and her family didn't get along so well. She insisted it was their fault. We continued to meet up for the next couple of months and although there were a few signs of her being awkward, I still wanted to see her. We had sex on the third meet up I believe. She would tell me of how it was the best she had in her limited sexual life and I have to admit that I enjoyed it a lot also. She informed me that she took multiple medications for bi polar depression and that she was also schizoaffective. I figured since I didn't see too many signs of anger, sadness, or general craziness that it was all handled. She ended up losing the place she lived and went back to living with her parents. After a month or so of that, she was kicked out and asking for a place to stay. I told her to come and live with me and my father. He was ok with it as long as she worked and contributed. We moved her possessions from her parents house to ours and we began sleeping in the same bed. We would have sex at least once a day. Sometimes initiated by me and sometimes by her. She liked multiple things in bed. Choking, hair pulling, spanking, daddy/little girl, and sometimes even wanted to think of me as her brother. I figured if the sex was great then I'm not going to judge her by what she likes. Some of the times she and I would stream while in bed for a few minutes here and there. She would sometimes ask for pictures or video to be taken while having sex but then would quickly ask for them to be deleted fearing a hack or that I would post them somewhere. That was the beginning of me seeing her anxiety/abnormal amount of distrust. She began to insist that people were hacking her phone and sending texts from her phone or listening to her. We went through 3 phones in just a few months because of it. She would go on MeetMe and stream all day in the garage on and off in 20 or 30 minute bursts. Both my father and I started to become annoyed with it when she would come in and out of the house sometimes 20 times in a couple hours to smoke/stream. She then became insistent that people on MeetMe were hacking her because she would get random texts from people she didn't recognize. I do admit on occasion I would look at her phone without permission. Pretty much any person that sent her a message, she would immediately send nude pictures of herself back along with her phone number and sometimes my home address. I confronted her about it and she would say that those were hacked messages also. We began fighting about things more and more over the next few weeks. She was still in contact with her husband who she now wasn't trying to divorce. They would also fight. Sometimes sending her into screaming rages where she would also break things. Of course this whole time she is still jobless so I am paying her way for food, her vape pen, and medications. One day we went to Vegas to go to an autograph signing and she started to act odd. Almost belligerent and I told her I no longer wanted to go to the signing. She began to scream and yell in public as she chest bumped me and pushed me. I just walked back to the car and got in. She cooled off a bit and also got in. As we are leaving the city we began to fight about her behavior and I told her I was embarrassed for what she did to me. That was the first time she hit me. Full closed fist to the right side of my face. She showed remorse and I told her if it ever happened again, I would kick her ass then leave her homeless. It ended up happening multiple times more and I did nothing. One time I raised my hand to hit her back and she said "do it and I'll tell the cops you raped me." One thing I left out of my writing earlier is that she also says her uncle, father, brother, and husband all raped her at some point and since I know I didn't, it made me question all the others. Luckily I soon wouldn't have to deal with it much anymore because she got it in her head that she wanted to move to Colorado. I said great, I'll drive you. Over the span of a day and a half I drove her to Boulder. I set her up in a hotel room for a few days and she said that would be fine, she would look for a job and find one soon. She needed a bus ticket back 7 days later. I told her she could no longer live with my father and I as it started to put a lot of strain on our relationship which had always been a good one. I drove her to Vegas and paid one month of rent at a Siegel Suites for her. She called me after 2 weeks saying she needed to fill her prescriptions where I live because she didn't have a pharmacy in walking distance. I said I would do it one time and drive them out to her. I went and picked up the prescriptions, called her, and she blew up. Apparently she couldn't fill 2 of her prescriptions at that time because they were "controlled substances" and the pharmacy preferred not filling them together within a certain amount of time after the last time they were filled. She insisted that I was stealing her meds. I told her that she takes them too often and there is nothing I could do. I picked up what was available and the pharmacy wouldn't fill anything else. She said she was calling the cops to tell them I was stealing her meds and I told her "fine, do it." She called them and they came to my dad's house. They called her while at my home and put her on speaker. They asked me why I was the one picking the prescriptions up for her and I told them because she lives 80 miles away and they were filled here. She says over the phone that she is missing meds. I hand the bag to the officer and checked the receipt and saw that the two meds she says are stolen were never even filled. She starts to snap at the cops and asks them what I had to give them to get them to side with me (in my head I'm already celebrating because now everyone can see her craziness). He says there is nothing to be done but have the meds transferred to the her nearest pharmacy in Vegas. She replies with "Don't you understand I would have to get on a bus to go and get them?" The officer kind of looks around and says something along the lines of "if the meds are that important then that's what needs to be done." She scoffs as though we are all crazy. He then tells her he is going to inform me to deliver the meds tomorrow and to no longer pick them up for her. I say ok so she can hear me. She of course acts happy because then I can no longer "steal" her meds. To have the cops she called come and verify with me how insane she was was a huge confidence boost. The next day j drive the meds out to her, put them on the doorstep and knocked. As I'm walking down the stairs, I see her open the door, say thanks, and grab them. Another couple of weeks go by and the Suites call me saying next month's rent is due. I tell them to tell her and they say she isn't answering. She moved out and left. Months go by and im seeing a new woman (the love of my life) and I start to get random texts on my phone from the crazy one saying she is now homeless in Slat Lake City and she currently works at a dog food factory. She "thinks about what she did to me and cries about it a lot." I tell her it's good that she seems to be turning it around. She texts me again asking if we can talk and I send one last text back reading "I can't, I'm sorry, stay safe." It's been 2 years since I kicked her out of my life and just recently I have been thinking about her and how terrible she was. I held onto a lot of anger from that relationship and it would manifest when my new girlfriend and I would have disagreements. I had a shorter fuse and would raise more voice easier than before. I of course never got physical or anything but I hated that I had a new temper. Last week I tracked down my victimizer on Facebook and I sent a simple message. "You stole so much time away from me." She sends one back the next day insisting that I was the cause of all the horror of her life. I have to say I almost wish it were true. There is so much more I could put in this giant rambling session but I'll leave it here. If there is anyone who is the victim of physical abuse reading this.... just leave. Just do it. Screw money, screw a car, screw not having a place to go. Just leave or kick them out. Ultimately what they are taking from you is your time and life force. After you get out of that situation you too can find the perfect person for you. It might take a while to improve your situation but leaving is the first step. |