She hasn’t hit me in almost two years. Her wrath is gone with her. No insult showers, no moral abuse, no pain any more. She’s finally gone; gone as far away as possible. And whenever I have encountered her miserable carcass, no matter what the circumstances, I have just walked away. I have never accepted to be anywhere near her. That is the best and safest way to keep this monster at bay.
It all started so beautifully… I never thought I’d ever be the one telling that sad, pathetic story about the nightmare of dating someone with a narcissist borderline personality disorder. It feels like being caught in a web with a very scary looking spider waiting to devour you, but never quite getting to it. It’s a world of delusion, lies, and total mental asphyxia.
This is how the nightmare began… Like every other honeymoon one should feel when meeting a new partner; to love, to share life’s mysteries with…
She was so little, so frail, so cute… her smile was angelic while her eyes were sad, shy, somewhat disconnected. I felt such a strong attraction for this seductive woman and since I had just divorced my wife three months before, I became quite fond of her presence in my life. We were hanging out all the time, laughing, enjoying ourselves, living in the moment with no expectations, just living life in the now. I think in some way we were both trying to heal from life’s punches.
Julie was always in company of her ex-girlfriend, a successful film producer. Strong, smart, heads on her shoulders. She came across as Julie’s care taker. She controlled her, told her what to do, and how, in many subtle ways, and sometimes less subtle ways, on a regular basis.
We all became friends fairly quickly. I was wondering what was really happening. Were they both interested in me? Did they want a ‘ménage a trois’. Julie would call me many times a day to see when I could be with them for a drink, a bite to eat, a talk, a walk on the beach… I would lie if I said I wasn’t becoming very fond of her.
My attraction could not be denied but all I really wanted was to help her feel better. She started to share her pains with me. It was almost impossible for her to really break away from her ex, yet she was afraid of her, wanted her freedom, didn’t know how to break loose and be on her own. Life was a threat all around.
Julie had no friends, no real job, no financial security, no plan… she was panicked. She sometimes would speak very fast, very loud, very aggressively about her current situation. She started to portray her ex as a kind of controlling monster who was responsible for all her headaches, all her troubles. She was the one that prevented her from having friends, she was the one who controlled her career, she was the one who was not letting her go… poor baby. She was in so much pain. And so petite and weak and cute and fragile…
Guess what! I fell for this like a moth going for the flame. I went for it head first and I felt such a compassion for this woman, such a desire to save her from all this and give her peace, and love her…
Invited for a drink
Julie and her ex-girlfriend invited me to have a few drinks at their house in a nice neighborhood in Hollywood, Florida not too far from a lake on the Intracoastal where I used to walk my dogs when I still lived with my parents. I love the area. The house was very neat. We sat in the backyard. It was very lush with a little pond with gold fish that they had just put there. It gave the place a very calming feeling. Soft music was playing. We sat around the wooden table and shared a bottle of wine while we chatted and laughed. The dogs and cats were moving all around us, wagging their tails, happy as can be. It was a truly pleasant evening.
The new hit from Gotye, “somebody that I used to know” started playing in the background. Julie jumped up. “I love that song! I love that song!” She started singing it aloud. I didn’t really pay attention at the time but this song would later become ‘our’ song and the lyrics should have clued me in that it wasn’t necessarily a ‘good’ thing.
"Now and then I think of when we were together Like when you said you felt so happy you could die Told myself that you were right for me But felt so lonely in your company But that was love and it's an ache I still remember You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness Like resignation to the end, always the end So when we found that we could not make sense Well you said that we would still be friends But I'll admit that I was glad that it was over But you didn't have to cut me off Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing And I don't even need your love But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough No you didn't have to stoop so low Have your friends collect your records and then change your number I guess that I don't need that though Now you're just somebody that I used to know [Kimbra:] Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over But had me believing it was always something that I'd done But I don't wanna live that way Reading into every word you say You said that you could let it go And I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know
I had brought a bottle of tequila that was chilling in the freezer so I brought it out. It was late enough in the night that it would be ok to take a few cold shots to bring some fire in our hearts and minds. And so we did… It was fun. Our heads were buzzing in the hot and humid air of exterior South Florida.
A short while later, when the laughs turned into yawns, I went home. I only lived a few blocks away. Julie was inside so I didn’t get to say good night. I went home in good spirits and slept like a baby. The next day, her ex contacted me half laughing to tell me that Julie had had too much to drink and ended up vomiting her guts out throughout the night. Surprising. She probably didn’t hold her liquor very well, then. But she was all better now, and it had been such a pleasant evening.
In the afternoon, Julie called me in tears and told me that she had a terrible fight with her ex and that this time she had to really learn to make it on her own. The situation was becoming impossible and there was no way around it. She had to man up and face the world alone. No friends, no plan. But she was living in a very small cheap apartment with her son so she wasn’t in the street. They had separated officially for months, just never officially stopped spending all their time together or unwinding their grip on each other. Now would be different. No more of that. Julie was on her own. She was ready to leap forward and detangle herself.
I was at work when her ex called me. She had had it with Julie. She was done with all the bullshit and drama. She felt liberated. She was ready for a new start. She asked me if i was available that evening for a drink at the beach. It was a really special full moon and it would be fun to talk and get to know each other better. “I might,” I said, “I let you know how the day goes. See you later.”
Then Julie called me and asked me if I would be willing to spend some time with her that night. She felt so alone and unhappy and worried about the future and what she would be able to make of her life. What a freaking dilemma! So, they split up and were both interested in spending that first night alone with me.
My choice was made. From the start. I liked Julie. I liked her innocence, her cute little face with this bright angelic smile that always melted my heart. She always had a twinkle in her eyes. She was fun, vibrant, yet weak and scared and very sensitive. The kind of person you want to hold tight in your arms to make sure no one harms them. I enjoyed that feeling of protecting her.
So that night, Julie came over to my house and we enjoyed the full moon together, laying on the hammock in the backyard. A beautiful night, bright sky, magic moon… I tilted my body slightly and kissed her, tenderly, passionately. She was soft and delicious. We stumbled into my bed and made love so gently. She was so petite. Probably 4’5″ with a completely flat chest. There was nothing more than a small child’s nipple to play with. Her body was slim; not muscular or strong, not gorgeous, but she was delicious none-the-less. She made these small animal sounds. She was not trimmed short like most women I knew. She had a full puff of hair but it was kept. It didn’t matter. She was like a fragile little girl in my arms and her innocence aroused me. It was delightful. She was mine.
The first three months in a new relationship are supposed to be revealing. It’s always hot, steamy and sexy but it’s also where you discover your new ‘other half’. That’s how it’s supposed to work. Those three months show you who you are dating.
In my case, I was thrilled. Julie was the perfect partner. Picture perfect. She was what I had been looking for. She was very sweet, calm, gentle, patient, understanding. She was into Kundalini yoga so she always dressed in white, woke up at four in the morning to go practice and meditate at the beach. She liked mantras… It was just a great start.
The elements that can make up a great, lasting, serious relationship seemed to manifest beautifully. I was very happy. It felt right. I was in love. It was going to be a great thing. My marriage had failed. I was fragile but I thought maybe there was just a new beginning for me after all. Someone who would make me whole. Someone who would make me happy. Someone who loved me! and it was new, it was fresh. It was great.
There was only that once instance when we were having lunch at a Peruvian restaurant on Hollywood Boulevard just East of University Drive during my lunch break. She gently held both my hands in hers on the table and looked at me straight in the eyes, intently. The silence was deafening. “What???” Julie lowered her gaze and said sadly, “I wonder when you will hate me and how you will be with me when that day comes.” “Why would you say something like that? I will never hate you. You don’t have to worry. I’m crazy about you.” “You’ll see! It happens to me all the time. All my relationships end up badly and people end up hating me and hurting me.”
Her birthday was coming up quick. I had just met her but I knew this was important for her. She mentioned several times that she hardly ever celebrated her birthday, even while she was a child. She started to talk about her parents and made me discover a dark world where, as a little girl, she had to fend for herself, abandoned. She was left behind in a babysitters’ house with very rare visits from mom and dad. When they finally picked her up, the first infraction was followed but a threat back to the nanny, which often followed. She was petrified of being sent away again. A word, a mistake, a look, a mood and she was returned like a bad omen.
From a group of kids, she alone spent most nights there. The nanny had a son much older than her, and while I refuse to divulge her secret openly, that boy scarred her for life. Let’s just leave it at that. It’s very sad and it may have contributed to the disturbed behaviors that made up her adult life and destroyed her as well as everyone who dare to get too close.
Anyways, her birthday came and I surprised her at Taverna Opa with a full table of friends; my friends really, because she didn’t have any. My mom was there with my brother and maybe ten others who welcomed her with smiles and gifts and we were all just happy to share this moment with her and celebrate her birthday properly.
Julie was shy. She was like a fish out of the water. She mumbled at me that the attention made her very uncomfortable. And she ordered a shot of tequila. We all joined her, ordered Greek food, laughed… And she ordered another shot of tequila, and another, … and another… and another… My mom gave me a few questionable looks. We were all surprised. It was not normal. She was going way overboard but I had never seen her do this before…
Dinner was great. Julie was drunk. Louder than usual. When it was time to go home, she told me she wanted to walk on the beach. I walked her a few blocks to the Hollywood Boardwalk. We were alone in the dark. As soon as she got to the sand, she rolled on the floor and moaned and rolled and moaned… Which made me very uncomfortable. It took a lot of patience and soft talking to get her back in the car and home safe. This was… weird.
This was my very first glance of her other self, the demon that was waking up, soon to strike me. A little voice inside told me that night that something was off. The tequila, the excess, the rolling and moaning, the look in her eyes… The darkness descended and I saw it but I was not conscious enough to see through it and run. I only became concerned. She slept like a rock and remembered nothing.
The day went slowly. She was ashamed about the heavy drinking from the night before but she had no recollection of going to the beach. It was a black hole after one too many shots of tequila. She spent the day brooding. We had an unexpected guest that evening. She introduced me to one of her only friends, Stefan. Tall, skinny guy with a long nose that made him look like a vulture. Nice guy as far as I could tell. He was very fond of her. He would speak softly, always asking her if she needed anything, if she was ok, if there was anything he could do to help with her son, her house, her emotions, her life…
He really spent a lot of time with Julie. One night, we all went to have a beer and some delicious back-ribs at Flannigans. Julie had a few drinks too many and started to pull him erotically by the belt and had gestures that made me wonder how good a friend he really was. By the time we left, she was pretty drunk. Stefan came to meet us on his bike. He went his way and I drove us home. I was a little upset at the scene. I asked Julie if she had ever slept with him. I was a bit thrown off by the way she had ‘touched’ him which had been questionably inappropriate.
“No way! Are you crazy! He’s ugly!” “I don’t know… you were touching him as if you too were intimate. You’re sure you never had a fling with him?” She denied at first but the liquor made her lips loose and she finally told me that the only reason she fucked him was because he happened to be her ex’s best friend and she just loved to do what was forbidden!
What?! When I heard the words that had just come out of her mouth, really heard them, I felt as if i had fallen backwards into empty space. I needed fresh air. I felt nauseous. My mind went crazy with the thoughts of all the forbidden things she would probably want to do, like sleep with my brother, or my best friends, girls or boys since she didn’t seem to discriminate. I felt shattered and probably lost all trust at that very moment.
I knew this was way wrong in so many levels, and that I would never be able to expect anything less from her. I don’t know why this didn’t sound the alarm and gave me the big red flag to run. But I pretended otherwise and continued the journey, blinded by what I thought was love. Suddenly, I became a bit more insecure, more prone to jealousy, but it was very subtle, so subtle in fact that I am just now becoming conscious of it. I guess I just wouldn’t leave her alone with my brother!
Questionable Parenting Style
Julie was not educated. She had dropped out of school when she was 14 and her mind was clearly lacking intelligence. She had a son who was 12 at the time. She always told him that school was unnecessary. He was a bad student and he missed regularly because his mother liked to keep him with her. He slept often in her bed and in her arms.
They had a very loving relationship which might have been unhealthy. Her neurotic actions had already damaged her son and he was so afraid of his mother’s hysterical reactions that he pampered her beyond what you would consider normal. “I love you mom. You are the best mom in the world. You know, you can punish me if you want. It’s ok. I won’t be mad.”
She raised him in such a way that he had no discipline and he listened to no one. She was proud of that and thought that he was independent and didn’t need to listen to anyone but himself. He was a hard head, very stubborn and easily angry. He occasionally had violent eruptions that were out of control. Learned behavior?
When the school year ended, he was in serious trouble with the system and Julie couldn’t handle it. The natural father, who lived in Switzerland, wisely decided to take his son with him. The exchange was painful and very emotional for all of them. The father wanted to do the exact opposite of what Julie had done to raise their son. He demanded politeness, education, control and good grades. As hard as it must have been for the boy, I am confident that this was the best thing for him to have a future.
We fell asleep embracing each other. She was curled up in my arms like a little bird. I fell asleep so deep that night. Her son was sleeping in the other room. The house was quiet. I felt so good. I fell into a deep sleep. I don’t remember anything else. Maybe eight hours later, I barely woke up. My eyes were still closed. It was late morning. I turned to embrace her. Kissed on the neck. Held her tightly against me. I was half asleep.
Somehow she didn’t feel right. She smelled foul. She smelled like… her body had very strong scent. It wasn’t her usual scent. I pushed her away a little while my mind tried to adjust to the unpleasant odor. It disturbed my peaceful rest. I opened my eyes and was horrified to find her son in my arms.
They were about the same size so I didn’t notice right away. I quickly pushed myself away while my mind was racing 1,000 miles a minute trying to find out why he was in my bed? and where was she? I quickly got up and found her in her son’s bed in the guestroom. She thought it was funny. I didn’t. I’d like to know when they swapped beds and more importantly, why?
I had a good friend who worked at the bar of the Cheesecake Factory in Aventura Mall. She had been there for 20 years. I loved sitting at the bar, watching her making cocktail after cocktail. But with Julie, it became forbidden territory. She even had to hide whenever we walked in front to enter the Mall because one of her ex’s great friend happened to work there and despised her with passion. I never got a chance to see who he was or speak to him, but I’m sure he has horror stories to tell. I would love to talk to him.
The cheesecake Factory was not the only place we were not allowed to go to. For the first time in my life, I had red zones in the city. Places, bars, parking lots, streets where she couldn’t go. The reasons was always to avoid someone who had been really mean to her. She was scared and didn’t want to create unnecessary problems.
Party Gone Bad
We had an amazing day on Biscayne Bay on a catamaran. We had a great time, laughed a lot, swam, sunbathed, enjoyed some good wine… with great friends.. What I would call a perfect day. We stretched the day late into the night, but it was Sunday evening and I knew I had to go home and get some rest to start the week on both feet. It was time for me to go home.
I was exhausted, full of goodness and joy and wanted to relax. Julie was sitting in the car next to me and started to suggest bars where we should go to party harder. I wasn’t in the mood and decided I was going home. She said a lot of bad things about me, “party pooper, old lady, why would you go home, we’re having so much fun, you ruin the night for all of us, you’re so selfish, just come out.” But I stood firm and drove myself home. In the car, my brother and Mariana were sitting in the back. They probably wanted to continue to party as well. I was the only one working the next day and I had to stick to my plan.
I parked in front of the house. Party over. Julie insisted! She tried to snatch the car keys so I threw them away in the yard. Julie jumped out of the car with a shower of insults and threw herself at me. She was like a wild animal. Slapping me, punching me, pulling my hair… It was the most horrible thing I had ever experienced! From total shock, I lifted myself up and defended myself as best I could. My brother separated us and calmed her down. I was flushed! I was in shock! I was furious and in pain! My brother was also in shock. He had never seen anything like this.
Him and his girlfriend Mariana made sure we were calm and they went home, quite upset at the situation. As soon as they had slammed the door, Julie threw herself at me again and the showers of hits and punches continued until I was able to throw her on the floor, hold her arms down, asking her to stop, to calm down, to breath. She was so strong I could barely hold her still. She pushed and pulled and moaned and screamed and insulted me and spit at me.
“I hate you, bitch. Let me go, you whore! I hate you! You mean bitch! I hate you!” Then she relaxed a little and started to sob. “Oh my god baby please, let me go. Don’t hurt me. I love you. You know how much I love you… Please love me, hold me, make love to me… baby please, let me go, fucking bitch, let go of my hands, you ugly fuck, let go of me! Baby, baby, no, don’t do this to me! I love you! I fucking love you! Let me go! Baby please… ”
This lasted a few hours. She was in a trance! I was trying to calm her down but it was almost impossible to handle as she went from one extreme to the next, from slapping me to kissing me to pulling my hair then reaping my shirt and pants, insulting me for hours! I was exhausted! I was in so much pain! It wasn’t just the swollen lip or bruised hip but my heart ached. I started crying hysterically, begging her to stop her nonsense, to leave me alone, to leave! And she did after a while. She went away.
She left me desolate, crying on the floor, completely in agony. My emotions were on fire! I spent the rest of the night in utter confusion. In 40 years I had never ever experienced anything like this! I had never had a physical fight with anyone for any reason and certainly not with a lover, with a partner, with someone who loves me! The night was long and painful. I did a lot of soul searching. I was exhausted, in pain, in shock…
Monday morning office was a blur. I wanted to crawl back to bed, to hide in a tiny hole in the wall. I felt so embarrassed and upset and confused! How could this have happened to me? Julie came over to see me that same night. She was very pretty, was wearing her best smile yet. She held me in her arms and kissed me as if nothing had happened. I was disarmed but very cold and angry. She asked me what was wrong with me!
“What is wrong with me!?! You spent the entire night hurting me and insulting me is whats wrong!” “What? You exaggerate so much! Come on! We had a little fight but it’s over and I love you. It’s ok! Don’t worry about it baby! Hold me in your arms, my love! I need you!”
She was so frail, so needy, so lost! I don’t know what spell was over me but I ended up pretending nothing so terrible had happened! That was the first time she ever hit me! That was the first of many sleepless nights in her nightmare of a life!
Later on, I discovered that she had left my house and gone back to hang out with my brother and Mariana. She went back out to party! With my brother! With my friends! While I was on the flour in tears, she went to party with my friends! She went to talk to them about how bad she felt for hurting me like that. She was asking them for advice and comfort! How will I ever be able to forgive her? Oh poor Julie was so sorry for what had happened! Such a load of shit!
That’s exactly how she operates! She strives on that drama. She puts herself in places where no one would dare to go and she always manages to turn the situation around! Poor Julie! We love you! It’s going to be ok!
She lives on that sick high of destroying all the things that are linked to the one she has chosen to destroy! Me! For now! Slowly coming down the rabbit hole into the dark crevasses of her soul. Unaware. Unprepared. Fragile. This was going to be a long ride down to the hells of her miserable existence!
“I’m just like a dog. I like to roll in people’s shit” – Julie
Julie traveled to Switzerland to see her son but the situation was very strange. Her ex-husband refused to see her, even for a minute, and asked her to stay away from his ‘new life’ which was with his new wife and kids. She got a hotel. He would speak with her on the phone but he wouldn’t let her stay with them, invite her for dinner so she could see her son’s new room, or even meet her at a cafe to say hi. How odd! I was shocked that this man could be so rude. What an impolite, cold individual! Julie didn’t think very highly of him to say the least, and I bought her side of the story. Bad ex!!!
A very interesting detail about the exchange. Red flag I missed at the time! Now that I know the psycho she really is, I applaud him for being strong enough to protect his family from her venom. He just knew that she was a bad omen and that she would probably bring on extreme drama, violence, verbal abuse and probably bring mayhem to his peaceful life.
Amazing how knowing a psychopath really makes everything that seems inhuman totally understandable. Her mere presence brings destruction to everyone around her. She has similar relationships with her father, her uncle, her close friends… She is not welcome in so many homes. She has to park in front of homes and wait for her son to come out because the people don’t even want to see her on their porch. I so get it now, in retrospect. I would never allow her to pass my front door. I’d probably call the police for immediate removal. 911. “Hello… there is a dangerous individual on my property. I’m in danger. Come quick!”
Julie likes to party. She spends sleepless nights at the house with friends while her son sleeps in the living room, clueless. She laughs and enjoys herself and has these long useless conversations until sunrise.
When everyone would leave, finally, terror would return. It usually would start with impatience, intolerance, a senseless fight… And then, if I didn’t fall asleep, she’d get aggressive, maybe playfully start to have sex and then get violent in the middle of it, rip my shirt, start insulting me, cursing her typical lines, “Fuck me bitch!” What are you waiting for? You’re worthless, you’re pathetic…” Then hit my head against the wall and here we go again, the moment would turn into yet another day of agony, of pain mixed with tears and insults, and rolling on the floor, and playing dead, and becoming so frail and fragile and sad about everything and everyone…
We had been dating 3 months maybe. Not a happy 3 months. I’ll call it turbulent 3 months. We had broken up several times already. Well, it was more of her attacking me violently, insulting me all
night. Me telling her the next day that we had to stop this craziness and that I had to be left alone. Sometimes it was, “Get out, psycho! That’s not love. I don’t want to be with you. Leave me alone. Go away. Please!!!”
She never left. Or she would leave and I would wake up in the middle of the night with her on top of me, naked, trying to arouse me. She had crawled through the doggy door. I would push her away, she would rip my cloths off, “You stupid bitch! Fuck me! I’m not leaving. I’m with you. You can’t just kick me out. I’m here to stay. Don’t abandon me. I need you. Please don’t do this. Don’t be mean…”
I am ashamed to say that on more than one occasion the episodes were so violent and morally disturbing that I actually would allow her to force me into anything. It was horrible and disgusting but it would calm her down and would make my life a little less unbearable for that short moment. Sometimes I fought back and threw her in the street and ran back in to lock the doggy door so she couldn’t come back in. Those times, Julie would run around the backyard from door to door, slamming into them as hard as she could, screaming a deluge of insanity at me… for hours!!!!
I never called the police because she was here on a visa and I knew this could become very serious for her. I regret having had so much compassion. I regret it very much. That would have been the right thing to do, each and every time. I was weak and stupid to care. But I’m not a mean person and I didn’t want to ruin her life. In a weird way, I thought I loved her. I wanted to help her get better, not destroy her.
She shamed me in front of my family, my friends, my co-workers, my neighbors… Her behavior was out of control.
Baby killer – the last blow
At that point, the break ups were so regular that I was trying to start a healthy life single again. I was 40-years-old and had tried countless times to get pregnant while I was with my wife. I have a list of names still…
I’d do what needed to be done to become pregnant, as lesbians do. Then I’d wait the horrific 15 days, no drinking, excited, scared, feeling pregnant, building a universe with my family, expecting many changes. I always felt changes in my body, the start of a new life inside. Then, on hell day, my periods would come. The tears would rip my heart out, my elbows would sink… Fuck! It failed! Again! Maybe its just not meant to be. But I felt it inside me… How is that possible?
Even though that life was gone, I was stubborn about having that baby and since I was 40, it had to happen now. I know a gynecologist in Miami who inseminated women, lesbians, at a very fair price and I knew this would make my dream possible. I went to see her. Check. Searched a sperm bank database in California to find papa. Check. I didn’t see any photos but he was Caucasian, tall, blue eyes and had a beautiful quote from Pema Chodron for any potential baby. That was perfect. Someone with a spiritual bone, into Tibetan Buddhism. Perfect match. Maybe he was even beautiful.
California sent the sperm through the mail. My doctor received the package, placed it carefully in the freezer. And we waited. It had a short life span so this had to be done promptly. Every morning, I’d pee on an ovulation stick in anticipation. Bingo! Today is it! It happened a Sunday. I called my doctor, met her at the office. Checked that everything was perfect. Insemination a success. I was thrilled.
Monday, I went to work filled with the most potent energy in the universe. I was in heaven. Around 4 p.m. when the work day was winding down, I received a text from Julie. She needed to see me. I told her that I would never see her again. She had to move on. We were toxic together and that’s not the life I wanted. We texted until 6 p.m. when I left the office. She was a mess. She was at work but in tears, she wanted to see me. She couldn’t stay at work so she went to a bar and focused on me. I was destroying her. I couldn’t do this to her. She had to see me. “Please, I beg you! I just want to see you. I can’t function. You’ve ruined me. When will you be home?
“Julie, I don’t want to see you. Its over. It’s been over. Don’t come see me. Ever again! That’s only going to hurt more. Go see your friend, go walk on the beach, anything but don’t come to me. I don’t want to see you.”
I could tell she was getting angry, drunk and unstable. I was scared. I had to go home to feed my dogs but then I’d quickly leave to avoid any drama.
I drove home with a knot in my stomach. I was slightly trembling. I was driving home but I was scared. I quickly parked, rushed inside, locked the doors and doggy door, fed the dogs. Quiet! No news. No threatening texts in the last half hour. Maybe she went somewhere and was getting some attention. I put the leashes on for a quick walk around the block and called my friend Eva to tell her I was coming to see her soon if that was ok.
I briskly walked the dogs around the block. As i turned the corner, I saw Julie knocking at the front door. My heart skipped a bit. I instinctively hunched behind a car, pulled the dogs towards me to hide from her. What the hell was I going to do. Deep breathing… In, out, “pfffff… I’m panicked. Damn it! I’m stuck!” I was just on the other side of the street behind the neighbor’s car, watching her, quietly listening.
She was banging at the door. “Open the door! I need to talk to you! its important. Please open the door. I wont leave until you come out and talk to me. I’m a mess. You have to help me feel better. Please. Its all your fault!”
I braced myself, straightened up and slowly crossed the street, my gut in my throat. The dogs started to wag their tales and jumped on her to say hi. She was a mess. Her eyes were swollen, she reeked of alcohol, her eyes were hateful. I brushed passed her, unlocked the front door, quickly pushed the dogs through, untied their leashes.
Julie took a hold of the door and tried to push it open so she could come in but I pushed her back and slammed the door shut, turned the key and placed it back in my front pocket. At least the dogs were safe. If anything happened, they would not be in the street.
“What do you want Julie? You shouldn’t have come here. I told you not to come. I’m not going to be here for you anymore. Go see your friend, she’ll help you get through this.”
“I don’t want to go see anyone. You did this to me. You help me! Let me in the house. Open the door. We’ll talk 5 minutes then I’ll leave.” “No Julie. If you have something to say to me, say it here. Let’s talk
on the patio. Then you leave, ok! We’re done. Remember. We’re not together anymore. I can’t do this again. Please go home, go see your friends…”
She jumped on me with such force she threw me to the ground and grabbed hold of my long curly hair and pulled as hard as she could. A large mass of hair remained on her hand while I pushed her off me and clumsily got back on my feet.
“You fucking bitch!” she screamed “You don’t deserve me! You are the scum of the earth. I hate you, you’re gonna pay for what you did to me…”
I was cornered in the patio. She was so small in front of me but so drunk and so strong. She kicked me in the stomach as hard and as many times as she could while she was screaming, “I hope your baby dies! You don’t deserve a baby! You’re such a bitch! I hope I killed your baby!”
The tears were blinding me. My head was spinning. I pushed her and ran, stumbled on top of my car, picked myself up and rushed to my neighbors’ front door. I knocked so hard.
“Please call 911! Call the police, please! Open the door. Michael opened the front door startled, saw me as a huge mess, saw Julie on me. “Whats going on? Are you ok?”
Julie froze. She ran to her car, jumped in, and flew away. Through her window, she was screaming at me “You’re such a bitch, you’re so evil. You’re so mean. I hate you. I hate you!”
That’s the last time I saw her. Well, at least for a while…
I did not get pregnant. Did she have something to do with it? I’d say. My mental state was at its lowest. She had punched me so hard in the belly that I had bruises. I guess that was the last thing she wanted to tell me. That monster! She is a demon walking the earth.
As for my friends…
As for my friends, Julie took over. She immediately took their numbers, called them for all sorts of sweet things to wrap them in her warm blanket of deceit. But in private, she would sing another song. “I can’t control Ellisa, she’s too wild. I need to find a different approach. Helena, she’s needy and pathetic. She needs someone that will listen to her and make her feel secure. I’ll have her wrapped around my finger. Maria, all she needs is a drinking buddy. She’s a sad drunk…” And on and on she went carefully cataloging my friends, turning them on into her war game against me.
Interestingly enough, they are still friends and became her puppets just as she predicted. She is a master of deception. Her smile is the exact opposite of her darkened heart.
My friends… I find, were nothing more than acquaintances. I turned my back on a lot of people I thought I really cared about. It may sound like a small sacrifice to make, but it was extremely painful at the time. My friends, those very people that would have been my strength in a difficult moment in my life, they were having dinner with the enemy.
“My son is Julie’s best friend. What do you want me to do? I can’t not let them see each other” “Julie told me something about you that makes me question our friendship”
A few years later, it turned into “I hope you won’t be mad. Julie had a baby and I became the godmother.” So, my supposedly best friend from when we were teenagers didn’t just continue to have a friendship with a dispecable woman who abused me verbally, emotionally and physically, but somewhat became family!
Does she not recall the fact that she abused and hurt me? Spending time with Julie lets her know that it’s ok to be mean and abusive and physically violent towards others, and that it can easily be forgiven and forgotten. That’s really sad.
The interesting side is that Mariana was dating a young man who almost killed her and locked her up by force in her own house for weeks, and abused her more or less the same way. Mariana was able to come out and sent him to jail. Funny how she survived this nightmare just to fall into the arms of the same type of individual. I pity her ignorance and lack of judgement.
Pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber’s life lesson for the day: The bigger the asshole, the better to forgive and forget them
A rough draft to heal the wounds
This is my rough draft… more coming.
This experience of writing my memories is a form of healing, of doing my own psycho-analysis, or understanding life as it comes, karma, and my own mistakes and shortcomings. I feel the need to share my story, because I know there are many people out there who have the unfortunate Julie in their lives, and I hope you will all find the strength and the courage to walk away.
Life is beautiful, and short. Don’t let a psychopath take the blessings of this existence away from you, for any reason. In the end, you know you can’t help them. The only thing you can do is to allow them to hurt you over and over again until you can finally say “Enough!”
I invite you to leave comments, to tell your own stories, and to do some research and find good people to help you overcome the trauma. It’s YOUR life and you deserve to LIVE!