Life With JC Was Never Simple

This is the little watchman's cabin.

This is the little watchman’s cabin.

Yet another strange but true story of a time while I was involved with JC. I am leaving the name of the town and changing all the names in my story for reasons that will become obvious later.

JC had a friend who did woodworking and refinishing of antiques, I never met him but was with JC when he stopped at the guy’s warehouse.

JC and I were in an apartment at the time and I came home earlier than expected one day to find JC sitting outside the apartment complex with all his stuff loaded on his truck and the engine running. I was devastated, especially since he had come to me only a few months prior and begged me to take him back and only that morning he had bought me breakfast and we had had a wonderful loving talk.

He said his buddy had moved out of the warehouse and he was taking it over and we were done; that was it. He had planned on leaving before I got home. I begged him not to do this and after a couple of days of me pleading we agreed to date on his terms.

At the warehouse there was a watchman’s cabin at the front of the property, it was so over grown with blackberries you couldn’t even see it from the road, in fact his friend had left the whole property in a horrible state of disrepair. I made a deal with JC to help him clean up the property and warehouse for reduced rent on the watchman’s cabin and we agreed I would pay him $250 a month, we would continue to date and see where it went. He rented out part of the shop to a friend “B” for $350, he said he was paying $1200 a month rent, so that meant it cut his rent in half.

I worked day and night ripping out blackberries and burning them, burning the garbage left behind by the previous tenant and in not too long the place was looking great. The cabin had been used as a big dog kennel and stunk like wet dogs but with soap, water and elbow grease I had it really cute in no time at all. It had a stove and fridge, bathroom with a shower, bedroom and main living area, maybe 250 sq ft with lots of windows and I made it into the sweetest little home. I painted flowers on the walls; wall papered and built a garden with a pond behind the cabin.

I worked along side JC cleaning out the warehouse, there was a ton of paperwork left behind from the owners, packaging materials, wood, all sorts of miscellaneous crap but it didn’t take long and you never would have known the place. The guy renting from JC was a painter by trade and brought left over paint and his sprayer and painted the inside of the warehouse. JC and I always worked well together and at those times I felt close to him. He was calling the shots as far as the relationship went and usually acted like he couldn’t stand the fact that I was breathing his air, he rarely said “I love you”, I was walking on egg shells and I knew I couldn’t do it much longer.

It was a good size warehouse and JC set up his living quarters up stairs but didn’t have a shower or kitchen so I was cooking for him and usually slept in the warehouse with him.

I felt uneasy in the warehouse, I didn’t know if it was JC or something in the warehouse but I just felt the presence of something evil when I was in the warehouse; in the cabin I was fine. I wouldn’t even go in the warehouse if he wasn’t home and just stayed in my little cabin. The warehouse was literally only a few feet from the railway tracks, it even had a loading dock out back where they used to load product onto the train it was so close. When the train went by every thing shook and it was so loud it gave me the willies; I had often thought that a person could scream at the top of their lungs and never be heard.

Ordinarily if JC went out and left me at the warehouse he would lock the gate and tell me to not let anyone in; which was pretty easy seeing as I didn’t have a key for the padlock on the gate; but one day he slipped out on his motorcycle and left the gate open. While I was putzing in the yard a older robust friendly looking man and a very skinny nervous looking woman walked through the gate. I stopped what I was doing and asked if I could help them. She asked me if I was the owner and I said no, that my boyfriend was renting the place and he wasn’t here at the moment. She asked who he was renting from and I said I didn’t have a clue she would have to talk to him directly. I said I could get JC to call her when he got back.

She said, “Yes please do get him to call me immediately when he gets back because I am really curious who he is renting from ………. seeing as I am the owner and haven’t rented it to any body.”

I felt the colour fade from my face and there we were; them staring at me and me a deer caught in the headlights; blinking at them.

Posted by Carrie the Lady Witha Truck

8 thoughts on “Life With JC Was Never Simple

  1. Aurora HSP

    Pathological abusers are so good at what they do, it’s amazing how intelligent, thinking people can be taken in by them. Myself included. Your story is a great reminder to all that it can happen to any of us, anytime.


    1. ladywithatruck Post author

      I had this conversation with a fellow yesterday actually. A woman I had just met was telling me abuse she suffered at the hands of her ex husband and this guy was listening to our conversation. He had known the woman 30 yrs and she had never told him this stuff; he was shocked that he didn’t know. He said that anyone who let someone treat them like that deserved it. Easy for a guy to say (yet I know that men are abused also) psychological abuse favors no gender. When he said that I said, “THAT is exactly why she never told you; she was afraid of being judged, blamed, or thought to be crazy”. She nodded her head. People feel uncomfortable with it, they don’t want to hear it and they want to blame the victim because they don’t want to believe anyone could be that evil. And that is exactly why we stayed, we didn’t want to believe he was that evil either and if we did tell anyone we were made to feel we deserved it in some way. But it is by the grace of God we all go through life, we can never judge another person unless we have walked in their shoes and previous to meeting JC I didn’t understand why women stayed either.

      These are not your average run of the mill assholes (those I can deal with and won’t tolerate in my life) these are evil, intelligent sub humans that use a person’s natural instincts against them and the victim is in no way responsible for their own abuse. If you have an unhealthy upbringing in any way you are more susceptible but in no way does a wonderful loving upbringing give you immunity either.


      1. Aurora HSP

        So well said, Carrie, you rock. Even police attending will often still say “why are you here” when the question is whose damaging arm is the fist/brain attached to as I wrote in a piece about Domestic Violence once. Old boys clubs are still in full force everywhere and we sisters need to stick together to remind one another, even the brightest and most beautiful people can be deceived, misled and blinded by who people really are when they finally show and tell us, NO ONE is immune. I am tired of the lack of accountability enabled by those marginal myopics who flout their opinions without any experience either in an abusive relationship or working in the system with those who were/still are. I have both and it is the narrow mindedness of many at large who create invisible barriers of “SHAME” that keep others trapped in those situations more than any other single factor. Shame on those who judge and shame anyone in such a vulnerable position. Some women just commit suicide or, as I did, suicide while living because we cannot see a SAFE way out, we fear that others will stigmatize us and beat us down more than we do ourselves. Shouting out with you, sister!


        1. The Heretic

          LOL. I could score the entire movie if you would like. If you need a sample of my music I would be happy to send.


    1. ladywithatruck Post author

      I heard it while I was writing it. In fact I was sure I hear it at the time!

      Old movies were really bad for that; the music building up to the scary part was more frightening than the actual event.



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