Lesson Learned
I was always thought I was pretty tough as far as girls go. If you asked anyone who knew me, I would have been the last person to end up in an abusive relationship. This is my story of how it can happen to anyone. It can.
I met Bo (not his real name) on a chatline/partyline in 1996, as in phone line – remember those? I had already been calling quite frequently, and after my car accident I was on that thing more often than not. I talked to him a lot, but never thought of him as anything more than a friend, until 1998 that is. I started to think he was kind of interesting and he made me laugh. He never said too much about himself or his family, so I just assumed he was a private person.
In December of 1998 he said he was ready to get out of where he was and asked if he could come visit me. I did wonder why he would take a greyhound from the Southern U.S. to Northern Canada, but figured, "What the hell?"
He called me from most of the places the bus stopped at, and arrived 4 days later. Things went well for the first weeks or so, and we were caught in a whirlwind. I never asked when he was leaving and he never said. A month later we were engaged. He got along with my family and friends and he spoke to his mother and grandparents on the phone. They kept sending him money that he said was an inheritance, and I never questioned it.
Things started to change slowly - very slowly. First he didn’t like my small town so we moved to the nearest largest city. Then he started doing everything himself. If I said I was going to vacuum he said no he was going to do it. I thought this was great at first - a guy who cooks and cleans. The problem was I became dependent on him doing things for me.
Then there was always something wrong with our neighbors; they were weird, or too loud, and he would nag at me for hours to call the police on them. No sooner would I find someone who could be a new friend than he’d find something wrong with them, and make any excuse he could to prevent me from seeing them. There was always something wrong with whatever apartment we were in, and he’d always make me call the landlord.
When I say make me, I don’t mean he put a gun to my head. He would nag and nag until I couldn’t take it anymore and would just call whomever he wanted me to, just to shut him up. If we went to the grocery store and a guy looked at me he would cause a scene. It was embarrassing. He would wake me up in the middle of the night, screaming at me about something so miniscule my nerves were always shot. We moved eight times during our time together. I told him to leave many times, and he just wouldn’t. He said if I called the police on him he would kill me and my family.
After this other guy tried to strangle him to death (that’s another story) we moved here, where my parents and relatives are, and at first things were better. Then he started finding things wrong with my cousin, and it wasn’t worth his harassment to talk to her. I would tell him I was going to take a nap and he’d ask when I wanted him to wake me up. He’d tell me to come watch TV with him and then go on the computer when I came and sat down. He was constantly getting me to call the landlady and I was starting to lose my mind. I used to go sit with my Grandma when my parents would go out, and he’d call me 5 minutes after I got there and ask when I was coming home. He installed a key logger on our computer and would scream at me if I emailed someone something he didn’t think I should. I got so mad at him one day, I spat Doritos in his face.
I guess the beginning of the end was when my cousin called Immigrations on his ass and they showed up at my door. He went down the back stairs while I answered the front. He was a crazy man after that. He would scream and yell at me, and many nights I went to my parents' place and slept there. We were together 99% of the time, which isn’t good to start with. He was always telling me if I kicked him out or called the police, he would kill my family. Finally one day, after another screaming match, I went to the phone to call the police and he grabbed the phone and threw it at me. Something finally told me that if he was throwing the phone around, it wouldn’t be long before he was throwing me around. I ran to my parents and got my Dad. When we got back he had a rope that he was going to hang himself with apparently. My Dad told him he had five minutes to get his shit packed up and then he was calling the police. He packed a bag and left. We had the locks changed within an hour, and I had the phone number changed.
He called my parents, apologizing to them, and told them he had to talk to me. He even had his mother call my parents. He went to Maine for a bit, and I eventually gave him the number. He said he was getting help for his anger problems and I tried to be supportive in that. After a bit he started in with the, “When I come back I don’t want your relatives visiting us.” I told him that, no, he shouldn’t come back and that it was over. That’s when he started calling me and threatening me instead. Finally, every time he threatened me I hung up, and I guess it wasn’t fun for him anymore. He called me a few months later about the rest of his belongings, but never told me where to send them. I still have a bunch of his stuff in boxes.
I understand he had a crappy childhood. He was raised in the Klan and his own father tried to kill him. While I think that’s reprehensible, it’s still not my damn fault, and I don’t deserve to have to be the one to walk on eggshells all the time. I really don’t know how I didn’t go crazy. I felt so trapped, and when I would want to leave, or make him leave he, would threaten me. I see now that he was all talk, but when you’re in the situation the fear just takes over. I do have three ulcers now, which I didn’t have before I met him.
I will NEVER put myself in a situation like that again. I can detect controlling behavior a mile away. I understand that when you’re in a relationship you have to have your own interests, and can’t base your happiness on someone else’s. I know the difference between giving in to someone and to compromise. While it’s true that I was scarred by this, I learned a lot too.