My high school girlfriend. She had a rough go when her ex passed away in a car accident. I didn’t know her during that period of time, but I should have been more hesitant when she kept calling me Dan (his name, not mine). She had her own demons, but I was 17 and didn’t think I’d ever find someone to pay attention to me. Fast forward a year at college, I told her we were breaking up because I met someone else (story two inc.). She had always been verbally abusive (blaming me for her ex’s death, me not always being available to spend time together, etc.), but when I told her it was over she stalked me. We’re talking multiple calls an hour, texts nonstop, etc.
I came home that next weekend post-breakup to celebrate my birthday with some buddies. We had a few drinks, and when I awoke in my bed at home she was there… raping me. My grandmother had let her in not knowing we were broken up. I immediately pushed her off, which sent her into a bloodcurdling, nightmarish tantrum where she started wailing on me. She was 5’0″ and I’m a touch under 6’2″. I tried to restrain her best I could, but I finally had enough (like the JLo movie, lifted her up, walked down the stairs with her flailing, opened the door, and let go. Before she could make a second attempt at attacking me, I slammed the door.
She approached me later that day at a party begging for forgiveness. She was best friend’s with my best friend’s sister, so she knew where I was headed. I told her to leave me alone and she started making wild accusations about me hitting her. She gestured to a bruise on her arm, which I am sure was from me trying to stop her earlier. I frantically tried explaining to everyone the circumstance, but very few took my side. I continued distancing myself from her at the party. As I was leaving, she told me that she was sorry, and I said I did not want to be by her — physically or emotionally. She got off one clean haymaker before I could react. Thankfully her friend held her back.
With a bloody nose, I went to the local police station pleading my case. The officers scoffed at my accusations. “Buddy, we take these claims very seriously. We suggest you think long and hard about this ‘story’ before you file a complaint.” I saw a number of different officers walk by, ask the story from a colleague, shrug, and go back to whatever they were doing.
I went back to college that next day. She was waiting outside my house. I had this feeling of calm before the storm as I put my bags in the trunk of my Dad’s car. I tried to not make eye contact, but honestly I was petrified of her trying to run me down. We drove off and my phone’s screen lit up with her name.
I never called back. Over the next month, I averaged somewhere around 50 texts a day and 4 voicemails out of 20 missed calls. I saw her five years later at a party. She introduced herself as though she didn’t know me. Maybe the trauma made her forget those two days. Maybe not. I shook her hand, gave a false name, and walked away. Fast.
The second story is not as dramatic, but I can share if anyone is interested.
It’s not a good place to be. I have reluctantly told a few people this story in person. To my surprise, they all have been incredibly supportive. Although, they usually have the same reaction as the officers at first. “Really? You’re a big dude, dude. Shit…”
It mainly started when my fiancee had lost her job, just as I was getting started in my new career and dream job. We were both into gaming, and she always got massive amounts of attention from the leg-humpers who have nothing to do all day but give her attention. I really didn’t pay it any mind, but when she spent all day every day online with these people, it stood out to her as me being abandoning and not caring about her because I would leave her go to my regular 8-hour job while her online gamer friends were at her every beck and call 24 hours a day.
I spent every free moment I had with her, even to the extreme that I barely even talked to my friends and family anymore, but it wasn’t enough. While I was at work I couldn’t immediately respond to all of her calls/texts, and when I would get home she would be in a raging fit, bringing up random things I don’t even remember saying 2 years ago like I’m the worst person in the world for saying it.
I don’t know if it was her online leg-humping friends riling her up to leave me or what, but some days I would get home and she would be angry for no explainable reason that she would start breaking things in the house. At one point she started to hit me, both with her fist and by throwing objects at me, the most dangerous thing being a pair of scissors. Her reasoning was that I am stupid and don’t understand her and how I could abandon her in the house like I would do every day I would go to work and this was my punishment.
I would spend hours calming her down, no matter how long it took I would eventually get her back to normal. She would be completely normal for days or even weeks sometimes, but eventually I’d come home and yet again get blindsided by a wave of rage I could not possibly begin to understand.
I don’t know why I stayed with her for as long as I did, perhaps it was out of loyalty, or that each time I calmed her down I felt like I had finally gotten through to her and this wouldn’t happen again. But it did, many times, and I took my hits for it, never fighting back, only providing the calm she needed to get her back to normal.
She finally moved out to go be with one of her gamer boyfriends she ended up cheating on my with, living with him at his parents house. It was a terrible experience but it gave me a very deep understanding into abusive relationships and why it can be difficult to leave someone even when they are not treating you like you deserve. I think I came out of it much stronger and wiser, knowing the personality traits of what I should not involve myself with again. Luckily it didn’t affect me bad enough to cost me my career and dream job so am doing much better now 6 months after it all ended.