Tag Archives: Paranoid

The Inevitable Happened

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I don’t know how many of my followers noticed that I have received a couple of nasty comments recently; one from JC and then this morning one from a “Chuck”. I “spammed” JC’s right away and then regretted it because I thought his response was so typical of a narcissist I should have left it. I went into my spam to “unspam” it but using the small screen of my phone I accidentally permanently deleted it. Oops

Basically what it said was that I am a lying bitch, he called you all my “minions”; which I had to laugh about because he was always saying he needed minions.
He said that reading my blog made him * feel ……….. well ….everything but mostly sad. *his words.

He also said this (my blog) was unproductive. I beg to differ; anytime a blog receives daily comments such as:
Thank God I found this site, you literally saved my life.
Or
You are a God send, now I know I am not crazy.
It can not be called “unproductive”.

He also called you all F%*#ing Lemmings and said you should be ashamed of yourselves. So everyone hang your head in shame.

He also told me to never contact him again, he made that perfectly clear in his letter to me when he bought me the computer cord I said I needed. It appears that computer cord was supposed to absolve him of any wrong doing in the past and he feels I didn’t mention it in my blog so he mentioned it to show you all what a nice guy he is. He used to say to me that he didn’t understand why my family hated him; I must have told them horrible things about him. He would say, “Do you ever tell them the nice things I do? No!!”. In fact I went out of my way to mention everything he ever did nice; exaggerated it even in hopes my family would like him and I avoided saying anything at all bad about him. But they weren’t blind and could see the abuse with their own eyes.

Today the comment from Chuck said that he knew us and said that he was there for several of the events I have discussed and I am lying and he called me a “c&*t”. I only know one Chuck and he used to come over when JC was God knows where and we would compare the lies JC had told each of us and get to the truth. We used to laugh about it together. He mentioned in the comment that I had talked him into taking JC’s money twice. Chuck and I did a job for JC and got paid $15 or something ridiculous like that, we worked hours in sun. JC had me do up an invoice for the customer, I forget how much it was for now I think a couple hundred bucks. Almost a year later he still had the invoice in his truck. He had told me to get out but refused to give me any money to leave or let me take anything out of the house. I talked to Chuck and told him I was going to invoice the customer myself again and mail it. I told him that if he let me use his address as the return address I would split the money with him 50/50; which is exactly what we did. One time!
I did leave but went back; and have never heard the end of it since. That was 12 years ago. So I believe “Chuck” is actually JC especially since he called me by the pet name he had for me. Not just every one calls me a “C&%#”. 🙂

My first reaction when I saw JC’s comment was guilt. It was my words that made him sad,but the more I thought about it (about 3.5 mins) I came to the conclusion that if JC was sad it was not my words but his actions that caused the sadness. But he is not sad, he is angry because I am not in a corner some where quietly licking my wounds grieving the loss of him.
He is not sorry for the way he treated me, he is not sad that he had a 10 year relationship with a woman who loved him unconditionally and she came away from it suicidal, destitute, and a shell of the person she used to be. If I knew that I had hurt someone that badly I would do everything within my power to make amends. But that is me, that is anyone with a conscience and a caring heart. But we wouldn’t be having this discussion if JC had either of those two things because he never would have abused me to begin with.

My 2nd response was fear; what would he do? I don’t know ( so if I die suddenly I am not suicidal ok?)

Then I reached my present state of mind.

I started this blog simply as a way to promote my company; I heard the best way to build business is by having a web site. But I couldn’t think of anything but the all consuming pain I was in. I spent days sitting on the couch, crying, staring into space, unable to read a book, watch tv, eat, work, I was barely able to breath.

When I attempted suicide I didn’t write any good bye letters, I didn’t make any last minute phone calls telling someone what I had done. The only thing I did was; at about 10 pm after I crawled outside to let Kato take a pee and could barely see to type I sent JC a text message asking him to come and get Kato about 10 am the next day because I had taken an overdose and Kato would need to pee.

JC never called, never called a friend or my mother to check on me, didn’t take the 5 minutes to call 911 and give them my address. When I came to the next day and realized I hadn’t succeeded I would have tried again but didn’t have any money to buy more pills. A mutual friend dropped by and said he had just had a call from JC asking him to go for coffee but he decided to come see me instead. JC was 10 minutes away from my place, knew our friend was going over to my place and never asked about me.
As if that wasn’t bad enough he still toyed with my emotions and led me on for another month until he moved in with his present conquest. And when I was upset he had told me he loved me on Wed and moved into her place on Thurs he chose to deal with it by telling me to kill myself because no man would ever want a psycho bitch like me.

There I was; alone; all alone, ashamed, beaten down, no one who understood, no way to support myself, at 52 years old a broken woman. The man I loved with all my being, who only a month prior had said, “You know us Babe, we always end up together, I don’t know why you get so upset.” knowing I was suicidal taunted me to kill myself. It was a defining moment; I had to choose to either live without him or die. I had more pills by that time and I sat there for hours looking at them, thinking, “If I can be reduced to this, a strong capable self sufficient attractive woman; what would it do to a young less confident woman?”

It was then that I decided to share my story in hopes that if there was some woman out there thinking she was crazy she would find some comfort in my sharing. I put as much information together as I could find, it gave me a purpose and it helped me heal and most of all it made me accountable. I was telling the world I was choosing to live, I couldn’t give up once I put it out there.

I had no idea what I was going to say, I was raw emotion some days, I was up but mostly down and then I got some followers, Tik Tok and Mysterycoach were two of my first and saw me through some of my worst times. Thank God they were there!!

The last, say 6 months or so this blog has taken on a life of its own. It is no longer “my” blog, it is where survivors of abuse meet up and share the road to recovery helping each other when one stumbles, encouraging, crying, praying, and most of all feeling free to speak about their experiences knowing they won’t be judged, ridiculed or told they shouldn’t feel the way they do. People come here and hear, “I understand, I have been there,” “OMG your relationship was just like mine”. I have received so much support, and yes good strokes from the people who have stopped by; I don’t know how I would have made it through til now without it.

To date I have somewhere around 200 followers and have had 42,200 hits give or take a hundred. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think it would grow like that. I am getting over 500 hits a day. That is alot of pain out there, and I am so gratified to be able to provide some light, some hope. I can honestly say something good came out of my pain, that out of a relationship filled with dishonesty, manipulation, and evil intentions something honest and positive grew.

I thought about closing down the site but I can’t, I would rather die than allow JC to intimidate me into anything every again especially something that is helping people heal from people like him.

I was going to change my settings so that every comment has to be approved before it is posted but that would defeat what we have going on here. People come here to share or give words of encouragement and it is posted immediately. I don’t want people who need support to have to wait, what good is that?

I have wanted to do a post thanking everyone for their patience because doing this all on my phone and not having the net where I live has meant  I am slow replying. I hate not being able to give it my best but right now this is my best.
Thank you all from the bottom of my heart, you brighten my corner of the world more than you know.
Carrie

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Doing The Right Thing Should Be Easy

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James insisted he had grabbed the chain out of Kris’s hand. I told him I didn’t know what to believe. He asked me to at least check out what he was telling me and I promised I would.

I picked Kris up from the hospital the next morning and I told him I had talked to James and heard the messages he had sent.

I was angry, I had specifically told him to not start anything and had asked him why he needed my phone when he borrowed it that night and he had lied to me.

I was angrier at myself, I felt guilty for dragging my son into my mess. I knew he would feel the need to protect his momma. I had a feeling in my gut when we pulled up that something wasn’t right. I had only given in and let him come home with me to avoid arguing with him; I had wanted to be alone. Now it was a huge mess and I could have prevented it all.(mind you, in retrospect James definitely had something planned when he started putting all the lights on his truck and had been very intimidating that night. Who knows what would have happened if I would have gone home alone.)

Kris admitted the chain was the chain he used to lock his bike up and he had hooked it onto his belt loop of his pants. The knife was the one that his dad had given him that he always packed. It had been in the pocket of his cargo pants and must have fallen out in the fight.

I told him he had to go to the police and tell the truth, he flatly refused. I told him that if he lied in court he would be charged with purgery and besides I had always taught him to be honest.

From the time he was wee that had been the one thing I always harped on with him; always tell the truth, as long as you are honest things will work out and you never get in as much trouble as if you are caught lying.

He would not change his mind and I told him that I would not lie for him in court. He said I didn’t have to lie; just tell them what I saw. I said I can’t do that; I know the truth now and to pretend I don’t would be lying. I just could not lie; not even for my son; it went against everything I stood for, I was heartsick. 

I went to meet James secretly a couple of times and told him Kris refused to change his testimony but told him to give Kris time to think about it. If he didn’t change his mind in a couple of days I would go to the cops and tell them what I knew. Of course I was too stupid to realize James was being so loving and understanding because he was orchestrating his defense.

Out of the blue Kris asked if he could talk to James, he wanted to apologize. I called James and he agreed to meet us. Kris got out of my car and shook James hand and apologized for the messages and the fight and James did the same, I thought we were getting somewhere but when Kris got back in the car he still refused to go to the police with the truth. 

I called the police and told the officer who had been there that night that I had new information and that my son had confessed to me it was his knife and chain. He said to save it for court. I said why wait? Why waste taxpayer dollars going to court when it could all be sorted out now. He refused to take my statement. I decided to write Crown Counsel myself explaining the whole situation.

By this time I had moved into an apartment in Abbotsford and had started full time college.  My son was not supposed to be living with me. When he had come back from Calgary it was supposed to be for a few weeks until he got a job and saved for a place. I was on a very limited student government grant to upgrade my skills; it wasn’t enough for me to live on let alone support Kris. When he quit school in Grade 10 I had told him he’d better get a job because if he wasn’t in school I was not supporting him.
He was hanging with a bad crowd, bringing them back to the apartment while I was in school and the neighbors were complaining. The landlady warned me that he had to move out or I would be evicted; so I told him he had to get out.

James and I were seeing each other again (something I am not proud of and I am sure contributed to Kris’s attitude, I packed guilt about it for years, I apologized to Kris and he forgave me long before I could forgive myself. I have forgiven myself finally. I did the best I could and I screwed up, but my guilt was keeping me from being the best mom I could be, now! I had to let it go)

I wrote my letter to crown counsel and James had written his. The first statement I wrote put all the blame on James the 2nd one laid it on Kris and was heavily influenced by James, in the 3rd and final I laid the blame on myself, saying I should not have told Kris anything to begin with or had Kris come home with me that night. I should have been more aware of what he was doing that night with my phone and basically just stated the facts surrounding that night. James was not happy with my revised version and tried to pressure me into changing it but I refused. Once again, I was sticking to the belief that the truth was the best way to deal with it.

I had my statement typed, signed, and in a sealed envelope on the counter, James was taking his in and offered to take mine at the same time.

A few days later James took me for breakfast and we had a really good talk. I went to school very positive about us. We got out of class early that day and I was anxious to get home to James. When I got to the apartment his truck was parked out front loaded with his stuff from the apartment and with things he had given me; like a TV. He was pulling away when I ran up to the truck and asked what he was doing. He said it was over, he was moving into a warehouse, it was never going to work out between us and that was it. I was devastated, dazed, confused standing there in the parking lot crying as he drove away. I could barely function, went up to the apartment and Kris was on the couch sleeping, he hadn’t even woken up with James moving.

James was so cold and matter of fact about it ending and at this point I still believed he was honest. I admit I grovelled for another chance, I promised to change, I said I would take the relationship on his terms, anything just don’t end it. We spent a couple of nights together at the warehouse and when I went back to the apartment after school I couldn’t open the door; the locks had been changed.

It was a Friday and my landlady didn’t answer her phone, I had no idea where Kris was or what had happened. The door jamb was broken so obviously someone had kicked the door in. I found him at a friends. He told me that when he moved out he took the handheld phone and was able to buzz himself in. He kicked the door open and went to sleep in the lazyboy chair. He didn’t know how long he had been asleep/passed out when he was woken up by someone kicking the chair. He grabbed a pair of scissors and was brandeshing them when he realized it was the landlady and a cop standing there. He told them I had packed up and left him there. They believed him, didn’t call me, gave him ten minutes to pack up his clothes, kicked him out and changed the locks.

Yes I know she couldn’t legally do that but she did and I lost everything because she gave me a one chance to get my things and James didn’t show up with the truck.

I called Crown counsel and they said they never received my statement so I called the police officer and he said he had it in the file at the police station. I told him Crown would look at it and he said it could wait until court.

I was totally frustrated by the police, I felt like they were playing games. The night of the fight one officer took Kris and my statement and another officer took James’s. They had asked James for his address and he had given his buddy’s address in the resort. He was  told that if he wasn’t at that address he would be arrested for being in breach of his conditions for release. I was told that he was not to be in the park and if he was seen in the park to call them and he would be arrested. I had called the police many times to ask if he was allowed in the park and no one could give me an answer. The attending cop went from 4 days off to being on vacation. So Kris and I thought James was purposely harassing us when in fact he had to be at the resort. Mind you he did follow us and he did intimidate us with the bright headlights etc. But the whole situation was escalated by the cops not commumicating. Finally the night JC was escorted to get his things was the first time he was told to not come back, even to visit friends.

The whole situation was out of control and the police seemed to be enjoying the show.

The way the whole thing was handled was unprofessional, disorganized, and instead of difusing the situation the police contributed to emotions esculating to dangerous levels. Not once was I contacted by victim services or someone from a Domestic Violence support group, my concerns were literally laughed at by the police. And JC was revelliing in the fact that he had managed to turn things in his favor again. I knew he had a restraining order put on him years prior by the girl that had his baby and I told the police to check his file in Alberta. They said nothing showed up, but I found out later that a person can pay $400 and have their record sealed.

The Perfect Little Family

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I was beyond ecstatic for a few weeks and wore maternity clothes almost immediately, I wanted everyone to know I was pregnant; I wanted the cutest maternity outfits.

Then the paranoia set in and I was afraid I might miscarry. Every possible thing I could worry about I obsessed about, the doctor even gave me an ultrasound in hopes of calming my fears but it only worked for a few weeks and then I was obsessing again. If the baby didn’t kick often enough I feared it was dead inside me, I obsessed about it being deformed because I had smoked and drank before I knew I was pregnant, and then there was my obsession with my weight. Having been anorexic prior to getting pregnant and then eating like a horse once I found out I was pregnant I gained a phenomenal amount of weight very quickly. I was 135 lbs when I got pregnant and 207 lbs when I went into labour. The motorcycle club had a pool going to see who could guess my weight when I finally went into labour. Victor would come home to find me on the bed crying, he’d say, “You looked in your closet again didn’t you?” and he would hop on his bike and come home with a new maternity outfit.

One day while I was working I was away from my wicket and when I returned there was a vase on the counter with one single rose in bloom and single rose bud and the card said, “One for you and one for the baby. With all my love Victor.” He never once made me feel fat or unattractive, even when I got stuck in our water bed and couldn’t roll myself out of bed he never even hinted at making fun of me. (Smart man)

It was November and I had been told I could have the baby any day and the baby’s room still wasn’t done, Victor was planning on going hunting in a couple of days and we were arguing. I said you aren’t going any where until that baby’s room is done (you never told Victor what to do unless you wanted the exact opposite thing to happen but my hormones were talking) and he said he’d do it when he got back. I was at the stove frying hamburger, holding the frying pan with my right hand and stirring with my left as he walked past the kitchen door heading to the bedroom. Before I knew it; almost like an out of body experience I flung the frying pan in his direction. The frying pan hit the wall in the hallway taking a chunk out of the wall and narrowly missing him. Hamburger flew every where, I burst out crying and Victor poked his head slowly from around the corner of the doorjamb not sure if something else would come flying in his direction. Victor went into the bathroom and started a bubble bath for me, guided me into the bathroom and told me to relax, he scraped up the hamburger from the walls and floor washed the floors and wall and ate it the hamburger swearing it was delicious (good thing I was obsessive about keeping my house clean). The next day he did the baby’s room before he went hunting.

A few weeks before I gave birth Victor had been at the legion drinking and wanted to take his opened half bottle of wine home with him but the bouncer wouldn’t let him and he had punched the guy, breaking his jaw. I had been furious and we called the guy offering to pay whatever he needed as long as he didn’t press charges; luckily the guy was decent enough, we paid his dental bill and nothing more came of it. Victor promised me he would quit drinking.

The other issue we had was that he never was faithful; he just could not pass up the opportunity to screw another woman. It bothered me terribly, every time he went out with his buddies I never knew if he was with another woman or not. He didn’t have affairs, I’m sure he never saw the women again, it was when he was drinking and he told me once that he just couldn’t pass up a new pussy. He didn’t know what he thought he’d be missing.

As strange as it may sound to you although it upset me terribly and we had many fights over it, I never felt he didn’t love me or that it was my fault in any way or that I wasn’t attractive. He wasn’t like JC, he never blamed me for his infidelity, and he always took responsibility.

I never slept until he got home, but when I heard the door I would pretend to be asleep, he would come to the bedroom door way and watch me sleeping. One night he said,” I really do love you you know, I am so sorry.” While I was pregnant I am sure he didn’t screw around, although I did get jealous one time when I came home just in time to pick him up for prenatal classes and I walked in to a houseful of people and a woman on his workout bench with her legs spread and his face 6 inches from her crotch. Victor did tattoos on the side and the woman wanted a black widow spider coming out of the hair down there. Here I am feeling like a beached whale and he’s down there tattooing; well I guess you can imagine how well that went over.

I finally went into labour on December 20th 1983; because I had been in labour so long with my first pregnancy I didn’t want to go to the hospital until I was really ready. When Victor came home from work that day I told him I’d been in labour all day and he wanted to go to the hospital immediately but I told him to order a pizza because the minute this baby was born I was going on a diet. He wanted sex one last time because he knew I wouldn’t be having sex for a month or so after having the baby. I am sure having sex sped up the labour pains because we didn’t even finish and I said we have to go to the hospital now. I left the house with a piece of pizza in my hand and we arrived at the hospital at 8:15 pm. The nurse checked me and said I wasn’t dilated at all and it was going to be all night. Victor rolled his eyes and she said he should go home and get some rest and they would call when I got closer. I told him not to go; there was no way it was going to take that long. As with my first baby the contractions didn’t come regularly and they had to break my water, I kept telling the nurse the baby was coming and she kept telling I wasn’t near ready; my doctor was at a wine and cheese party and she didn’t want to bother him. They had quite a busy night with babies being born and there was a lull, the nurse said she’d wheel me into the delivery room to give me a change of scenery. I wasn’t in the delivery room more than 5 minutes and I said, “The baby is coming, I have to push!” Victor whipped my slippers off and put my feet in the stirrups the nurse was saying, “Don’t push, don’t push!!” I said, “This baby is coming now, someone had better get over here.” Just then the doctor ran through the door with his arms outstretched and they put the gown on him as he came through the door, he got to me just in time to catch the baby as I gave one more push.

Victor gave me the blow by blow description of the birth, “There’s the head, there’s the back, there’s the bum, there’s the balls, IT’S A BOY!!!”

Kris was born at 10:20pm. and weighed 8 lbs 1 ½ ozs, he bruised his nose on the way out and Victor and I laughed because he had his dad’s nose. (Victor’s nose had been broken a few times and was kinda flattened out) Kristofer was beautiful, perfect, bald as a cue ball, 10 chubby little toes, 10 chubby little fingers, pink and healthy. I didn’t know it but my family was in the waiting room and they were allowed to come in immediately after Kris was born, while the doctor was still stitching me up. Finally I had what I had been praying for for so long, a healthy baby boy (although a girl would have been just fine with me I did want a boy and Victor although he always said “as long as it’s healthy” wanted a boy, we could have found out the sex of the baby when they did the ultrasound but we didn’t want to know ahead of time.) the nurse had given me something for pain about an hour before because the pain had been so intense and she didn’t think I was going to deliver that night at all, and it kicked in about the same time Kris was born. Everyone left to give me time to rest and there I was wide awake at 10:45pm, all by myself feeling like I was on top of the world, stoned out of my gourd and no one to talk to. I remember saying as everyone was leaving, “Someone bring me a glass of wine, no never mind make it the whole bottle!”

True to his word Victor hardly drank for the next 5 weeks, right through Christmas and New Year’s Eve. I was nervous he would go out and get drunk after he left the hospital but he went straight home and called everyone we knew but he didn’t drink. My mom and dad gave me a gold chain for my wrist with a gold charm of a pair of booties to commemorate Kris’s birth. (I treasured those booties for 27 years, the chain had broken and I had put the booties on a gold chain around my neck and wore them that way for many years until that chain broke and then I put them away for safe keeping along with some of Kris’s baby teeth, his hospital wrist band and other mementos. In 2010 I saw a little silver bullet shaped container for sale at the counter in a gas station and thought it was perfect for keeping the booties in and bought it. I took it home and showed JC how I had put the booties and Kris’s baby teeth in it and put it on my key chain as a good luck charm. Kris had moved away and it was a way of me keeping him close. Around the time JC and I were splitting the silver bullet disappeared off my keychain, I tore the house and truck apart but never found the silver container. I asked JC about it and he didn’t seem to even remember me showing him the container or what I had put in it. After we were split he had me haul his tools from his last job because he had been fired, when we got back to his/our place I went into the music room to warm up and there on the coffee table was the silver container, the latch that held it onto my keychain wasn’t broken and it was empty. I took it out to the fire where JC was standing and asked him where he got it from. He shrugged and said he didn’t know. I said, “This is the container I had Kris’s booties in.” He asked where I found it and I said in the music room, then he said he found it in some of his son’s stuff that Allen left behind when he left so suddenly. He said Allen must have stolen it, you know how he was stealing everything. But I had it after Allen left, he left in May and I know I had it in October when I went to visit my son in Kelowna because I showed it to him. I didn’t argue with JC and just told him that if he came across them I would really like them back. If there was anything in this world that I cherished it was those booties and he knew it and it was his passive aggressive way to hurt me). Sorry I digressed; back to Victor.

He took to fatherhood like a duck to water, he was bathing Kris, changing diapers, and wanted to take Kris every where he went. He’d take the snuggly with him and take Kris to the bike shop, to visit friends, and he’d get up with him in the middle of the night. I wasn’t breast feeding because I wanted to diet and was going back to work after 2 months so it was easy for Victor to go alone. I was the nervous new parent but he was a natural at caring for a baby. The baby would be asleep and I would get up from watching TV with Victor and pretend I was going to the bathroom and I’d hear Victor, “leave that poor kid alone!! He’s fine, don’t you dare wake him up.” Because he knew I was going to sneak in and make sure he was still breathing.

We had gotten a Springer Spaniel puppy that my dad’s pure bred male Springer had sired and even he loved the baby, we had the perfect little family. I really didn’t want to go back to work full time again and leave Kris with a baby sitter all day and Victor and I talked and agreed I would go back part time. In those days you only got 6 weeks maternity leave and in the 5th week I talked to the bank and they agreed to lay me off which would mean I would qualify for unemployment benefits a lot longer and I would only work a day or two a week for the first while.

On Thursday February 2nd, Victor went out and traded my Honda Civic, our old Fargo pickup truck and a holiday trailer my foster brother had given us all on a 1981 Reliant K car and surprised me with it. He said he got it because he didn’t want me driving with the baby in a vehicle that was unsafe, drafty or might leave me stranded. I was thrilled with it, sure it was just a K car but it was burgundy and had velour interior and was the nicest car I had ever had.

On Saturday February 4th, 1984 I went out with girlfriends for a nice dinner and Victor stayed home with Kris and on the Sunday he had plans to go for a motorcycle ride with my dad and a friend, Ken. It was unusually warm for early February and a beautiful day for a bike ride. Victor rode his bike 12 months out of the year, it was an agreement we had, that if he bought a brand new bike it couldn’t be for pleasure only and he said he’d drive it to work and he did almost every day, he had a snowmobile suit for riding in winter and rain gear for the rainy season, full leather pants and jacket, gloves, mitts, full face and regular helmet, he rode in snow, ice any conditions so he was a seasoned rider. On this Sunday he had on his full leathers, riding boots, helmet and leather riding gloves. It was such a beautiful day and I felt a little jealous to be left at home, I loved the motorcycle but it was his day with the guys. After Kris’s nap I put him in his stroller and walked the 2 miles to my mom’s and we drank some wine and sat out side on the patio. She drove me home about dinner time and I mentioned I was concerned the guys were still not home and she assured me they were fine, just enjoying their guy time; but as it got dark I had uneasiness but I couldn’t pinpoint what I was so uneasy about, I knew he wouldn’t be screwing around, not with my dad along. I dozed off lying on the couch with Kris in my arms and around 9:30 woke up with a start. I checked and Victor wasn’t home. I didn’t know whether to be pissed off or worried, it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d been late, but the fact that he was with my dad told me to relax I was worrying for nothing. I went to bed and finally fell back to sleep, only to be woken up by the phone ringing at about 11 pm. I had a hard time waking up and the phone seemed to be ringing forever. Finally I answered, “Hello?”

“Is this Mrs. Ouellette?”

“Yes”

“This is Abbotsford Hospital calling, when you come in to visit your husband can you stop at the front desk please, we have some of his belongings here.”

“Abbotsford Hospital? What are you talking about?”

“Your husband was admitted earlier tonight and we have his belongings at the front desk.”

“What do you mean he was admitted, what’s wrong? what happened?”

“I don’t know madam; you’d have to talk to the emergency dept about that.”

“Emergency? Can you put me through please?” my mind was racing, what would he have been doing in Abbotsford? They went to Sumas Washington.

“Just one moment.”

I could feel the panic welling up inside me and I was telling myself to stay calm, it must be some mistake, my dad would have called if something bad had happened. Maybe they parted ways and he went to a bar alone maybe he was in a bar fight and got stabbed or something. I waited for what seemed like an eternity and then realized she must have dropped the call. I wear contact lenses so couldn’t see and in my panic I couldn’t find my glasses, I was shaking so badly I could barely dial the phone but managed to finally get information and they put me through to the emergency ward at Abbotsford Hospital.

“It’s Carrie Ouellette calling, I was just told my husband Victor, was admitted to the hospital tonight.”

“Hold on, I’ll get you his nurse.”

“Hello? Mrs. Ouellette?”

“Yes, what’s going on? What happened to my husband?”

“He’s had a motorcycle accident Mrs. Ouellette and he’s on his way to surgery”

“I am on my way, this is Abbotsford hospital?”

“Yes Abbotsford emergency but, there really is no point in coming down here Mrs. Ouellette, he’s on his way to surgery now and isn’t expected to survive there’s no point in you coming.”

I hung up. Not expected to survive? It must be a mistake. My dad would have called. No, it has to be a mistake, Victor can’t be dying, he has to come home, we just had a baby.

Posted by Carrie the Lady Witha Truck

When There Are Strings Attached

14 Replies

Why being self sufficient is so important

When I was posting about the fellow who had a place for me to put a trailer I mentioned I feared there would be strings attached. I hate to sound untrusting and suspicious or to insinuate that a man would never do anything nice for a woman without wanting something in return. Mind you I didn’t get any indignant comments from men saying “How dare you assume a man would only do something nice because he has ulterior motives”

When I was with JC we split up many times, he would tell me it was over and I would move out and then he would “see the light” and start coming around again, during these times of being split I would try to not call him if I needed something; I would try to work it out on my own and if I could it was very rewarding and empowering. He always said, “You’ll never find another man who will rescue you like I do.” I would think, I won’t need rescuing as much if you aren’t around because no other man would sabotage my truck.

I also found that when I was with JC men didn’t offer to help me as much as when we were split, but I think that was because when I was with JC they assumed, (seeing as he was a heavy duty mechanic) he would fix my truck. I think that is a nature assumption and something most men would automatically do for the woman they love but not JC. Life was always tougher when I was with JC, he was sabotaging my truck, I didn’t have help from any one else and when he did fix my truck he expected to be paid for doing it and complained bitterly about having to do it.

When I have been on my own I have had 3 men at one time trying to get my truck going and not all of them have wanted “something” for their efforts. But there have been the times I have been very disappointed in men and made to feel cheap (for lack of a better word). One such experience is with a man “A” who has been friends with JC and me for going on 10 years. JC and he were best buddies for a long time and then “A” started accusing him of stealing, hired him to do some work for him and had to fire him. They are still “friends” but “A” has no illusions about JC’s true nature. Anyway, I borrowed money from “A” a few years back when JC and I were split, I was paying him back a bit at a time, I traded some equipment I got as scrap that he wanted and had a couple hundred left owing to him. I must add, he is married and I am friends with his wife, JC and I have been to dinner at their home, had coffee with them many times, I really like his wife. The fact that he is married, whether I know and like his wife is irrelevant, means he is “hands off”. I have never flirted with him, I truly thought he was happily married and I loved them as a couple. He started mentioning that he and his wife never had sex any more and seeing as I wasn’t with JC any more I must be lonely. I told him in no uncertain terms I would never have sex with a married man period. But he persisted, inviting me to go away with him, calling to take me for dinner and making sexual remarks and I kept telling him it would never happen; we were friends, him, me and his wife!!
Then one day I met “A” at Tim Horton’s because I had some steel I thought he might want to buy. As I was walking away I said, “I haven’t forgotten I still owe you money” and he said, “I am sure we could work out a way you could repay me.” I just laughed and pretended to take it as a joke. But I thought about it and got more and more offended, he was treating me like a prostitute and we were friends; or I thought we were friends. It hurt, and it damaged our friendship.

I stopped going by his shop, if I had something I thought he’d want I didn’t bother contacting him except when I paid him what I owed him. Finally months later he called and asked why I hadn’t been coming around and I told him that he had really offended me, I thought we were friends, and he treated me like a prostitute. He apologized and I accepted his apology. He said he had a load of scrap for me if I wanted to come over he would load it on my truck. I went over and things were a little tense but we joked and got it loaded. I thought “A” and I had reached an understanding and started doing business with him again, had coffee with his wife and tried to go back to the way things were. Then this last time JC and I split my truck wouldn’t start and I called “A” for help. Right away he started asking me to go away with him again so I have had to curtail all contact with him and that is a shame.

The other incident happened when my truck was down while I was still with JC. I called a fellow scrapper who had offered to help me if I ever needed it (also married), I asked if he wasn’t too busy could he take me around to do some of my pickups and I would pay him. He agreed and we did that a couple of days a week, I wasn’t making much money from it because I had to pay him but it was keeping my customers happy and giving me some pocket money so I wasn’t having to ask JC for money or food. I never used to wear a bra, and one day he reached across the pickup truck and literally flicked my nipple and said something about not wearing a bra. I slapped his hand away so hard my hand hurt for 2 days and I told him if he ever did that again he’d lose his hand. Late he apologized but I never got him to drive me around after that and it totally ruined any friendship we had.

The other experience was a couple of years ago. I had responded to a Craig’s List ad giving away a free leather couch. I got there and there was no leather couch, just an ugly flowered one and I said no thanks. He was a nice older man and said he’d call me if he got a leather couch (he worked for a furniture manufacturer and they gave away the slightly damaged product). A few days later he called to ask me if I would help a friend of his move. The old guy was disabled and on a pension and was moving out of a bed bug infested apartment building into a nice basement suite and needed help.

I was in a tough spot financially at the time, I had my truck insurance due in two days, I had enough fuel to do my pickups for the day and get to Amix and back home, and I had no money. I had an engine that needed to be picked up but my winch remote was broken and I had planned on working, getting enough money to fix my winch, picking up the engine and getting enough money to pay my insurance.
I said I couldn’t afford it and he said the poor guy was stuck; they had man power but no truck. I agreed to do it on the stipulation that the boxes would be packed down stairs and ready to go on the truck when I got there.

Well, I got there and there were no boxes ready to be loaded and no man power. The neighborhood was so bad that I couldn’t leave my truck unattended with anything on the deck because someone would walk away with it. The man who had asked me to do the favor wasn’t even there, I called him and he said he was on his way and to go up to whatever number the apartment was. Up there I met Cliff and Herb. Herb had been sucked in by “A” to help and had an important appointment to attend at noon. Cliff walked with a cane and certainly couldn’t pack boxes so Herb and I went to work. Herb was the most interesting man, he was a Christian and had many interesting thoughts on evolution and interpretations of the bible; he also had a great sense of humor. We worked well together and laughed and talked the whole time we were loading. He went and made a phone call to say he wouldn’t make his appointment and we kept working until we had the truck loaded. Then he met me at the new place and we unloaded everything at 5 pm. The whole day was spent and I hadn’t made a dime.

Cliff was so grateful he was in tears and I was pleased I had been able to help. I didn’t say anything about my situation and thought oh well, I was sick about the fact that I didn’t have money for my insurance but I had enough fuel to get home and I thought what can I do?

Then Cliff handed me $25 and said he wished he had more to give me, I gave it back to him and said I couldn’t possibly take it; he insisted and I thanked him very much. Herb and I exchanged business cards and had a few more laughs out by our vehicles. It had been such a bizarre day for both of us, we had both missed what we had planned but we’d really enjoyed our selves. It was a God thing; you know?

As I was heading home in a fantastic mood for someone who was absolutely broke, I thought, “Maybe I have enough money to buy the parts I need to fix my remote myself”. I stopped at Princess auto, picked up a switch, some wire, and other things I thought I’d need and took them to the counter and asked the guy there if he thought this was what I needed to fix my winch remote control; he said it was. I hadn’t noticed a guy standing behind me who was listening to my conversation with the sales person but when I walked away this man came up to me and said, “Put that stuff back, you’re wasting your money. I have what you need.” I told him I needed to fix my winch remote and he said he had everything I needed at home and to meet him at Tim Horton’s in ½ an hour. I put the stuff back that I had picked out and went to Timmy’s. He showed up just as he had promised and not only brought about 20’ of power cord for my winch but the whole control and he brought me a soldering gun, and solder. He had it fixed in about half an hour; while he was working he was telling me his family was camped at a campsite waiting for him. They were camped and he went to work during the day and then back to the campsite at night. I thanked him profusely for taking the time to do this for me and he said not to worry about it he was happy to do it. I thought, “wow! A married man who did something nice and didn’t try anything”. He said to give him my card because he had some scrap he needed hauled away.

Because now I had a winch I was able to pick up the engine and sell it to pay for my truck insurance. God works in mysterious ways.

True to his word the guy called a week or so later and asked me to haul his scrap away. I met his wife and kids and when I was done he asked if I would make enough on the scrap for it to be worth coming out. I assured him I would but he insisted I meet him at the gas station and he filled my tank with fuel. Again I thanked him profusely and said I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you; and he said I could give him a hug.

He started calling me every couple of weeks to see how I was doing; then JC and I got back together. This guy started telling me how unhappy his marriage was and hugs started to turn into a hug with an ass grab and then he wanted kisses and I had to end the friendship.

I was disillusioned and now I am suspicious of any man who says they just want to help me out of the goodness of their heart.

I know there are women who would sleep with a guy just to get something they need but I never could and never would and it offends me that a man thinks I would. Like I said I have had a man help me without attaching any strings so I am not saying all men are like this.

The thing is; when a woman leaves an abusive relationship, for a man to help her and expect sex for his efforts he is reabusing her, objectifying her just like the abuser she left. Or that’s the way I felt. Comments?

Posted by Carrie the Lady Witha Truck using WordPress for BlackBerry.

Don’t Let This Happen To You or Someone You Love.

8 Replies

Below you will find a link to Kim’s blog; a blog dedicated to her sister Kay who was murdered last year by her abusive husband.

Just days before the divorce papers were to be signed he left work early and sat waiting for her to come home from work with a loaded gun in his hand.

He shot her 3 times in the back of the head before he shot himself.

Kim is an eloquent writer who bares her soul, her pain and her sister Kay’s pain, unhappiness, Kay’s journal entries and final days in a gut wrenching tribute to her sister.

I can not read her posts without tears burning my eyes. Her hope is that by bringing awareness to the topic of domestic violence and sharing her sister’s story she will save some other woman’s life.

Please never underestimate how dangerous a narcissist/psychopath/sociopath is and how cunning and manipulative they are. They are expert actors and remember they do not have a conscience.

Please visit Kim’s blog and take tissues.

http://myinnerchick.com/category/in-memory-of-kay/

Posted by Carrie the Lady Witha Truck using WordPress for BlackBerry.

This was the photo jc used on Facebook while we were still supposedly in a committed relationship

This was the photo jc used on Facebook while we were still supposedly in a committed relationship

You Can’t Be First But You Can Be Next

I thought it was a rather witty “catch” line for a personal ad, too bad it was an ad JC had placed on “Fling” looking for sex, and possibly a relationship. It is actually a very true statement. It’s a typical narcissist type statement; he doesn’t say exactly what he means by next. Next could be the next to be hurt, the next to be systematically destroyed and eventually left; lying broken, bruised and bleeding with not an ounce of pride left, begging him to tell you if he ever loved you as he looks at you with distain in his eyes, smirks and says, “Look at you? Who would want you? You’re nothing but a weak, suicidal, paranoid bitch that made my life hell”. And he doesn’t say you could be the last either. It’s like when we lived in the trailer and I needed propane to cook supper. I mentioned I had the money, he said, “I could go get propane,” I was thrilled, “Really? That would be great, while you’re gone I’ll get everything ready and when you get back I can throw it on right away, maybe we will eat at a decent time for a change.” I handed him the money and he left. His sister was staying with us at the time and after about ½ an hour she asked how far did he have to go for the propane. I said he should be back any time now. After another 15 minutes, she asked if I thought I call him to see where he was. I text messaged him, “R u going to be much longer” His reply “no”. We waited another 15 minutes and I messaged again, “R u almost home?” His reply “I’m in the barn” Me “Oh! Why didn’t you tell me you were back, did you hook up the propane?” His reply “No”. Me “well could you? Or where is it and I ‘ll do it?” His reply “what propane?” Me “the propane you went to get” Him “I didn’t go for propane” Me “I gave you money and you went to go get propane” Him “No” Me “YES, you said you were going to get propane like and hour and ½ ago” Him “No, I said I COULD go get propane, I didn’t say I WOULD go get propane”

It was a year ago Mar 3rd that he left me bleeding with out a moment of softness, not an ounce of tenderness for a love that was, not a dime to my name and a broken down truck all the while flaunting his new woman in my face and telling me how much better than me she was, how happy he was and how he was giving her all the things I had asked for and more. How he didn’t need personal ads with her didn’t need the hours of porn, and how good she was to him. A few months ago he pops up out of nowhere to apologize and tells me it was all his fault, he always loved me, didn’t I know that? Didn’t he tell me? I said, “You told me many things, promised many things, that doesn’t make them true”. The next time he showed up he told me it was my own fault he hurt me because I kept forgiving him and taking him back.

It’s very hard to get over someone like that, you want to hate them, but you also need to know that the time you put into the relationship wasn’t for nothing. Deep down you’ve known for a long time you just didn’t want to admit it and so in a way he is right, you are to blame for your own pain. In a normal healthy relationship you always have the memories of the good times, what ever caused the break down of the relationship doesn’t void the good times, and you know there was a time that your ex loved you. With a narcissist you’re not only dealing with the end of your relationship, you are trying to get your head around the fact that he never loved you and has already moved on and appears to be extremely happy with someone else, giving her everything you loved about him and he refused to give you.

For those of you who read this and are involved with a narcissist/psychopath and are looking for some hope, just a glimmer that somehow you can save this relationship or he can be “fixed” please; no matter how much time you have invested in this relationship; run! Change your number, move away, and don’t wait for him to devalue, destroy and discard you. Walk away while you have something left of yourself to rebuild your life with.

He will not appreciate your self sacrifice or your forgiveness, there is no loyalty, if you suspect he is cheating believe your gut; he is. If he has hit you and promises it will never happen again; get away. There is never an excuse for a man hitting a woman, like my wise son said to me when I told him JC didn’t hit me anymore, “Mom, JC hasn’t stopped being an abuser, you have just learned to not make him angry, but that won’t last mom, it isn’t possible.” He was right.

The last time we got back together we talked openly about all the areas we had problems and how we could avoid repeating them, I was so encouraged and proud of how we were able to discuss things calmly, compromise, and be so realistic. I thought I had him figured out, I thought I could foresee what would anger him and be one step ahead of him. I thought I could avoid him getting angry by anticipating what would set him off, but he would orchestrate situations I couldn’t anticipate or control and I would end up getting hit. He would create reasons to be angry with me, the tension would be building and I would try to show him he was wrong I hadn’t done what he thought I had or wasn’t thinking what he thought I was but that was reason to get hit right there.

I almost looked forward to finally getting punched in the head, it didn’t hurt; not as much as the constant badgering and looks of distain. Once he hit me things would calm down for a while; until next time. Usually a loving period would follow, he might even propose. He proposed to me at least 6 times, he had at least 6 epiphanies; he recommitted to me every couple of months; every time he thought he had pushed me too far and I was ready to leave.

The only time he treated me lovingly for any length of time was during a period where I had my own place and wouldn’t let him move in but those times only gave him just cause to have personal ads and to date other women, which he did when we were together anyway. A relationship can’t go on that way, so we would split totally and he would come back after having another “epiphany” and I would think why would he bother if he didn’t mean it?

For a long time I thought there was divine intervention keeping us together, every time I’d had enough either my truck would break down or he would be injured somehow. Sure it crossed my mind that he was messing with my truck, but who would do that? I thought I must be paranoid and if I did ever tell someone my fears they would look at me like I was crazy. I didn’t want to believe it, so I chose not to. But how many times does it happen, we were split and I walk out to go to work and he is crawling out from under my truck. I ask what he is doing and he tells me he thought he saw something but it was nothing, then he tells me to pop the hood. What better way to commit a crime than right under the nose of the victim, it’s even more gratifying if you can get them to assist you. Later that day I am leaving a job site and just as I am pulling out onto the road I have no brakes or power steering. It is just a miracle I wasn’t driving down the road at the time. Now I believe THAT was divine intervention. I got the truck pulled over and upon inspection my brake line which supplies fluid for the steering and brakes has worn through and broken. It happened twice while I was with JC, co-incidence? I highly doubt it. My lug nuts on my wheels so loose I almost lost my wheels? I started locking my truck and hiding the keys (yes this was a very healthy relationship) so he couldn’t tamper with it, that’s when the lug nuts were loosened, that’s when he text messaged saying “Be careful out there” and 10 minutes later my front tire blew going 110 km/hr on the freeway in rush hour with 3 tons of scrap on the truck. Co-incidence? Once again I think it was divine intervention I was able to keep the truck on the road and up right. A young girl driving behind me stopped and came running up to see if we were ok and said, “Lady. That was awesome fucking driving!!” for those of you who don’t know what happens when you “blow” a tire on the freeway let me explain. Have you ever been driving down the freeway and seen the rubber off of a semi truck’s tire? That is what happens, usually on a back tire with a truck with dual tires, when one tire has less pressure than the one beside it the tires over heat and the one with more air pressure expands and blows up. It’s scary as hell and it sounds like you’ve been shot but you don’t lose control because for one thing it is the back and not a steering tire and you still have the other dual tire. I have asked professional drivers and other scrap haulers and no one has ever had a front tire blow, JC told everyone who would listen (thou protestith too much?) that it was little pieces of scrap metal embedded in my tire that made it blow. Scrap metal embedded in my tire would cause it to go flat, but not blow up. JC is a class 1 driver, heavy duty mechanic and extremely intelligent; quite capable of knowing exactly what to do to make a tire blow up. When he text messaged saying to be careful his sister even joked, “What? Is the front tire going to fall off or something?” and we were laughing when it blew. It blew with such force that it picked the front of the truck up off the pavement, ripped out my brake lines, destroyed my fender and severely damaged my drivers door. It is sheer luck that I was in the passing lane because when it blew it pulled me immediately to the left. If I would have been in the slow lane it would have pulled me directly into traffic. On that section of the freeway there is a very little shoulder on the road and then a steep drop, if I would have gone off the edge I would have rolled it for sure and we would have been killed or at the very least horribly injured. When I called him to tell him what had happened he said he was on his way to help; we waited 5 hours.

Another time he insisted I go pick up a car he had just bought and had been working on at a buddy’s shop. I didn’t want to do it because it meant I had to walk miles to get there, but he insisted I had to do it. He didn’t have time and it had to be picked up that day. So I walked all the way there, got the keys from the buddy and drove away. It was an extremely hilly area and almost immediately after leaving the yard there was a long steep decline with a sharp corner in the middle, just as I entered the decline I lost my brakes and steering, I was increasing speed and did the only thing I could think of and that was to throw it into park. I was ½ on the road, shaking like a leaf when I hear a car and see JC rounding the corner coming in my direction. I just got out of the car and told him to drive it and took off in the car he was driving. I thought he was too busy to pick up the car, why was he coming up at the exact time I was going down? Co-incidence? I can’t think of anyone who has ever made me angry enough that I would kill them.

Although they are often physically abusive, they usually are careful to not leave any evidence of the abuse and tend to be passive aggressive. JC rarely yelled, instead he’d quietly say things to drive me over the edge and then I’d be yelling and he’d look like the poor guy living with a raving psycho bitch. He might even seem unfazed by something that should enrage him, or you might think you have resolved a conflict only to discover days or even weeks down the road that something you treasure has been destroyed or is missing. By the time I left JC there was nothing I held dear to my heart that he hadn’t damaged in some way. He had poured antifreeze on all my photos, took treasured keepsakes I bought when my son and I went to Disneyland, a gift I got from my mother when my son was born disappeared but the container it was in was in his music room, my clothes were “stolen” twice, I had 3 vehicles stolen in 3 years, and the ones that weren’t stolen didn’t run, I lost all my furniture because the storage bill didn’t get paid, and money I had given him to get jewelry I had pawned never got to the pawn shop and I lost it, everything I own has been acquired in the last 5 years.

Narcissists/psychopaths don’t think like you and me and act like an angry toddler lashing out destroying your toys because you don’t want to play the game their way

They don’t have a conscience, and are all about appearances, creating an illusion of the perfect life. The truth does not matter to them, and whether you believe them doesn’t matter to them, as long as they aren’t forced to face the truth. JC had an elaborate 2nd life on the internet, hundreds of women on his Facebook, and famous people he bragged about “friending” him. He was telling people from his old home town in Saskatchewan that some top model in Greece was going to be the next Mrs. “JC” and that he knew 6 women on his Facebook in the biblical sense. Then there was his off line life where he didn’t come home all night, or said he was at the bank at 7 at night on a Saturday when the bank closes at 3, and had joined a singles club in Vancouver. I knew he had been fired from every job he’d ever had for stealing, I knew too much and I didn’t believe the lies any more. Not only did I not believe I was challenging him on his lies, I had gotten savy to his little tricks. I had figured out that if he came to bed and we had sex and if he kissed me goodbye and said I love you in the morning, he wouldn’t come home that night, or if he did it would be in the wee wee hours and I didn’t believe his feeble excuses. Forcing them to face their lies is a very dangerous thing to do. If they think you might expose them and their fragile orchestrated life they might feel they have no choice but to shut you up any way they can. If you die it would be your own fault.

It is so hard to believe someone would want to destroy you, let alone kill you, why? Sure when people split they may bad mouth the other person, or even slash tires or say hateful things, but who sets out to literally destroy every aspect of another person’s life; especially when they didn’t do anything but love you? Why? That is were the problem lies, don’t ask why, you won’t get an answer, because he doesn’t want you to succeed or survive with out him? he wants to keep you in his grasp and under his control. It doesn’t matter. Do you hear me? It doesn’t matter, knowing why isn’t going to change anything; he is an evil man with evil intentions and the sooner you get away the better your chances are of recovering from him and the less damage he can do. Never think you have nothing left to lose, the most precious thing you have is your soul and your self worth, don’t sell it to the devil for something you mistake for love.

I get so many people directed to my blog because they searched for the narcissist’s new girlfriend, whether it is; should I tell her he is a narcissist, to why does he treat her so much better than me, to how can he get involved and be so happy so quickly? Because it is all an illusion, a narcissist’s life is all an illusion, he changes himself to suit whatever woman he is dating, you think you know his likes and dislikes, his habits, you know him better than anyone I would be willing to bet money that most of those things have changed to what ever the new woman is into. JC was raised Christian, we prayed every meal, we prayed often, we talked about religion, the bible, we studied the mark of the beast, we attended church, yet after we split he told me he and his new girlfriend flew to visit his mother and he was so upset that she dragged them to church. He told me that he had flown all the way out there to see her not to go to church and he had been so bored and his mother had made excuses why the sermon was not as good as it usually is. I said to him, your mother is how old? In her late 80’s? And you have told me how concerned you are that she doesn’t have much time left. The congregation at her church collected money to pay for your teeth, they donated large sums of money for you when you went to Africa, the church is all your mother knows and cherishes, she has been bragging to her church friends about her son for years and you would deny her the two hours it takes for you to attend her church and allow her show off her pride and joy. You couldn’t go and fake it for two hours for your mother? You couldn’t give her that gift? Instead she felt she had to apologize to you for the service being boring?? I can’t believe you? The JC I knew wouldn’t have done that, and if you had I wouldn’t have gone along with it.

When we were together he was obsessed about one world government, the 9/11 conspiracy, we watched everything we could find on it, it was his obsession that I got pulled into. In retrospect I think he was using it to make me feel insecure and that I needed him; and it did/does scare me. I asked him the last time I saw him if he’d seen the you-tube videos about the strange noises people are hearing around the world. He looked at me like I was crazy, and told me that he doesn’t pay much attention to that sort of thing, if it’s going to happen it’s going to happen and he isn’t going to dwell on it. WTF?? How can you go from obsessed to not giving a shit in a few months? How can you go from believing in God to calling the bible a lie in a few months?
Only a narcissist/psycho can do that because they aren’t real, they have no convictions, no boundaries, no beliefs, they create and recreate themselves to suit the woman they want at the moment, or the job they want.

Even when he is apologizing some thing just doesn’t fit, his emotions aren’t quite believable, you can’t quite put your finger on it, he might be crying, his hands might be shaking, but there is something missing. That is because he is acting and because he doesn’t have empathy and doesn’t know what true love is he is just imitating emotions he has seen on someone else so the performance is hollow. Often JC would say, “I don’t know what to say about that”. That would be because he didn’t know an appropriate response, “he is not programmed to respond to that question”. He said he saw me driving past a few months ago, with Kato sitting in the passenger seat and then he stopped, and said “hummmm Huh, I don’t know what to say about that, I don’t know what I thought”. What do you mean you don’t know what you were feeling? Sad, happy, you wanted to run me off the road? What? but he honestly wasn’t feeling anything.

He doesn’t understand why I am so hurt because he has no empathy; he has never loved and lost. He had one woman leave him that he couldn’t get back and he obsessed about her for 15 yrs all the other women he has been involved with he managed to destroy.

He needed some where to live, didn’t have a job so he needed a woman with money, to him it makes perfect sense that he would find a woman who filled his requirements and tell her he loves her and become anything she wants in order to get what he wants. In his mind everyone is out for themselves and he is just playing the game better than anyone else. He doesn’t worry that he won’t be able to keep up with the false self he is presenting, he only has to do it until he has her hooked good and then he can be and do whatever he wants. Promises mean nothing.

My biggest mistake with JC was assigning him emotions I thought he should be feeling, emotions any normal person would be feeling, I assigned him morals, a conscience, and I tried to understand why he did the things he did. To be honest I didn’t even know narcissism existed and thought psychopaths looked like Hannibal Lector.

Be very careful, You might not be first but you could be next!

Posted by Carrie the Lady Witha Truck using WordPress for BlackBerry.

Part 2 Of JC’s Psychosis

3 Replies

Up until now this story might appear that it is me that was psychotic and at times I thought I was, it was a lot easier to believe than the man that I loved would be so devious as to purposely cause me to have an accident or worse; cause my death. Having his sister living with us actually saved my life, not what he had planned when he brought her home I am sure. I am sure he thought he was enlisting players for his team and hadn’t dreamed she would turn against him, which is possibly what drove him into his paranoid state.

He had these periods of psychosis throughout our relationship but it seems to me they got worse as time went on and lasted longer, only ending when I would leave, then slowly he would morph back into the sweet, intelligent, in control guy I met. If it wasn’t so scary when this happened it could be entertaining and humorous, his sister and I have had a few good laughs over some of the things he did, after the fact.

It amazes me that someone who acts so insane can act so normal. It brings to mind those newspaper articles about some guy who killed his whole family or blew up where he worked and they interview people and they say, “He was a really nice guy, kinda kept to himself.”

JC had been exhibiting some strange behavior prior to my son coming. He had set up a surveillance camera aimed at the chair I usually sat in when I was home. The surveillance camera had been set up for a long time, it was a remote camera that you could place in a room and go to another area and watch what someone was doing, it didn’t video tape, I had discovered it and just left it, I figured I wasn’t doing anything if he wanted to watch me painting more power to him it wasn’t worth fighting over. Kinda like watching paint dry, boring!!

JC started appearing out of no where or disappearing. The whole yard surrounding our trailer was fenced and had gravel so it was impossible to get to the trailer without the people inside hearing the gate or the gravel but he would just appear at the door. It was freaking D and I out because we couldn’t figure out how he managed to do it; either that or he would totally disappear.

He was always out in his shop in the barn and on more than one occasion I would go out to ask him something or tell him supper was ready and I couldn’t find him. One time in particular I went out to find him and D had also gone to speak to him unbeknown to each other. I went through the laundry room into the music room, he wasn’t there, I went from there into the main barn and walked the full length of it to his shop at the back calling his name and he was no where, I went back to the music room and there he was wiring up a speaker. I told him I’d been looking for him and he said he’d been there the whole time. I knew better than to argue and had forgotten what I wanted to say to him so I went back to the trailer just as D was coming around the side of the barn. She said she’d been looking for JC I said he was in the music room and she said she’d just been there and he wasn’t there. The chances of us both wandering the barn and not seeing him are very unlikely, so where was he? We were sure he had a hidey hole somewhere.

One night I went out to talk to him about something, walked the full length of the barn, and then checked the music room, just as I walked back out to the barn I saw the ember of a cigarette in the shadows and there he was, leaning against the wall just standing there watching me. It sent chills up my spine.

Another night at 3 in the morning I went out because I was going to tell him to come to bed, same thing, he was no where to be found but as I was walking back to the trailer I saw something move by the barn and I said, “JC?” and the shadow walked towards me. For a minute I froze unsure if I should run then he turned on his flashlight and I could see it was him. I said, ”What are you doing out here?” he said he thought he heard something.

Then one day D and I discovered he had built a staircase that went up one side of the fence and on the side of the fence that was in the trailer’s yard he had a ladder up against the fence. That was strange enough (you could access the barn by going out our gate and taking 20 steps to the left) but there was a gate not 5 feet away that went into our yard. We figured he’d built the fence so he could sneak up on us. We were sure we’d heard something or someone beside the trailer one night so the net day D went out to see what she could see and found a thin wire going from the barn, over the fence and under the trailer, when we followed the wire it went into the barn and along the wall down to his shop and it had an intercom speaker on the end of it.

I’ve gotten off course here, back to the story;

When I got back home after sleeping in Wal Mart parking lot with my son, D was awake and so apologetic, she swore her and JC weren’t doing crack, she said he had found the pipe in the couch and put it on the coffee table. I tend to believe her because I know she is honest, but I do think it was a set up by JC. She said that after I left JC had come and asked where I went and she didn’t know. He’d said something about me probably running after my son and taking his side. Then he’d said he’d be right back and gone in the music room and she hadn’t seen him since.

Right about then he came in the trailer said good morning like nothing had happened (typical of him, we could have a HUGE fight and the next day it was like nothing had happened) and went for a shower. He came out, said to have a nice day and went to work. From the kitchen window in the trailer you could see directly into the music room but JC had put up plywood and posters to cover the windows D and I went out to see what he was up to and he had obviously slept in the bed I had sent up for Kris.

D came to work with me and when we got home JC wasn’t home yet, but when he did get home he went directly out to the barn. I made supper and went out to tell him it was ready. I went to walk into the music room and the door was locked. I knocked and he said “yeah?” I told him to open the door. I heard the sound of a dead bolt and then he opened the door a crack and peeked out at me, I said, “Let me in” so he opened the door wider and I went in. He had the place all set up for himself, a propane heater going and Christmas lights strung along the ceiling (mood lighting). I said,”So are you moving into the barn now?” He said he was and that D and I could pay the rent on the trailer (we paid $650/month for the trailer and an extra $50 a month for the use of the music room and another $150 per month for his shop area in the barn) and he would pay the $200 for the music room and his shop. I said fine, but then you don’t use the shower or kitchen in the trailer and to forget about me cooking for him. Then I told him supper was ready.

We all ate dinner together then after dinner he went back out to the barn and stayed out there all night. In the morning he left for work without a shower. D and I went to check the music room and it was locked up solid. Now that would be fine except the doors didn’t have locks, and he hadn’t put a padlock on the outside. The music room was locked strictly from the inside, so how did he get out? D and I went around the whole area looking for a secret door or some thing but couldn’t figure out how he managed to get out of the music room and still have it locked.

That night he came home and went directly out to the barn again. If I went out to talk to him the music room door was locked and I’d have to knock, sometimes he would just talk to me through the door, other times he would open it a crack. Every few days he would come in for a shower, sometimes he ate with us sometimes not.

It was crazy making for sure. As I said in a previous post my cell phone was randomly playing the John Mayer’s song “Half of My Heart” and it was doing it again so I went out to the barn to show JC and ask if he knew anything about it. I found him in the barn and told him what had been happening. I held out my cell so he could hear the song and he just started crying. He said he loved me and held me for a long time then he took my hand and led me over to the wall my son had built. He removed a couple of boards and crawled through into the music room. So that was how he was doing it!

The music room was a disaster area, typical of JC, he always was a slob (not when I first met him of course), we had sex, I can’t call it making love, it wasn’t passionate, it wasn’t loving, it just was. I felt empty, hopeless, just spent, and there was no connectedness between him and I.

After that he didn’t lock the music room anymore and when D and I checked the next day we discovered a pile of turds in the corner. There was a bathroom adjoining the music room, just totally bizarre behavior.

Just a few of the bizarre incidents that were part of my life with JC.