holy forget dude this is some crazy stuff. I thought you dropped off the face of the earth. I'm glad to see you back and alive! I'm hoping this story has a happy ending and you're doing better now...
Good to see you too buddy! I’ll be back on Steam in about a week or so. Yeah, this stuff pretty much consumed my life. I am alive, and I guess the best way to put it is that it’s sort-of a bittersweet ending.
._________.
this is one crazy dump
Haha, yeah. It is a lot of text, and a lot to take in I suppose, but I hope you’re enjoying it at my expense
Here we go.
Part SevenAs a reminder, don’t feel bad for me. Everything here is pretty much my own fault. I had so many ways out. So many chances where I could of walked away. Hell, times where she walked away FOR ME. There are other tiny stories I didn’t bother talking about that served as a way out. My biggest concern was what I would do with her furniture, and that tied with this damn sunken cost fallacy I fell for, I figured it was easier to stay with her. I could have moved on with my life and I’d probably be in a different situation right now. I suppose this is the way things had to be though. There’s no changing any of it.
After we moved into the house, the fights started. And every time we had a disagreement, her idea was that we should just break up and sell the house. Her infamous line being: “You’re not doing what I tell you to do!” Literally not even a month at the house yet. Her biggest issue was that my current work site for my job was two hours away, and I was working until three instead of two. In turn, I was getting home around five. It was only a two or three week gig until we moved onto another location. Lets also not forget that she was the big pusher for moving into the house out in the damn boonies, which distanced me from my area of work. And she wanted me to tell my project manager off. Bitch him out and tell him I’m not working so far away from home...Yeah. forget that. Especially since it was temporary. Especially since it wasn’t even a big deal. Especially because I didn’t even mind. Soon after moving into the house she quits her job at the daycare, again. Now I’m paying a mortgage, all the utilities, and buying food, all by myself. Again. She was starting to remind me of someone. On top of that, she wanted me to disown my family. Cut off all contact and never speak to them again. I’m still not entirely sure, but I believe it was because she believed my mother and sister hated me and only pretended to love me. At least, that was her reasoning for it. She probably just wanted me all to herself. Hell, looking back, I can see a point where she was trying to distance me from what friends I had left (I lost some along the way, didn’t think it was relevant enough to talk about in detail). Mutual friends we had, friends from the daycare. She tried to act like the “cool/normal girlfriend” who doesn’t mind her boyfriend going out with his friends every now and then. She “planted the seed” to try and make me think they weren’t really good friends, real friends, but it never fully sprouted. But looking back, I can definitely see she was beginning to go in that direction. Pretend that she was okay with me hanging out with other people, but convince me that they weren’t worth it, all while making sure she still looked good and innocent. Absolutely disgusting.
At one point she briefly gets a new job in town. I say briefly because she quit after a couple weeks. At one point though she tells me she’s going to be doing some kind of training at work, so she’ll be working twelve hour days. Seven to seven. I calmly point out to her, while explaining that it doesn’t bother me, that she was a bit of a hypocrite. She had an issue with me getting home later than usual for a short time, at five, and here she was literally doing the same thing. But because it was her of course it was different. And that’s exactly what she said. She said the situations were different. I tried to explain to her that getting home late is getting home late, and I just wish she would see the wrong in her ways and apologize to me. Of course she flips out, and says she is leaving tomorrow and that we will just sell the house. Hoo. Ray. I go to bed and she texts me from the living room. She tells me that actually, I should leave. I go back out and I tell her I’m not going I go live somewhere else while also paying the mortgage, and that I knew if I stopped paying it—she certainly wouldn’t be paying it. And that I didn’t want her to ruin my credit and screw up things in my life. She told me quite frankly that she didn’t care, and that because I wouldn’t do what she told me to do, I deserved whatever bad things happened to me.
For whatever reason. After everything I had been through up to this point, that was the moment something clicked for me, and I began to have serious doubts. I decided I was going to have a serious talk with her when I got home from work the next day. Not a break up talk. But just lay out my feelings, my worries, etc and explain to her what I thought.
Lucky for me, while driving to work the next morning, she texts me telling me she doesn’t think she wants to be with me anymore. Damn, this couldn’t work out any better. I tell her I want to talk to her when I get home, that I’ve been feeling similar things, and we need to have a serious sit down like adults. Not this texting stuff we did so often. Of course she has a problem with everything that is not in her control, and tells me she doesn’t want to talk. That we’ll just fight. She’s done. I try to tell her we aren’t going to fight and that I sincerely want to just talk about things like adults, but she’s not having it. She wants me to text it to her. I try to explain that it’s too much, but that just pisses her off more. Finally I cave in and I tell her when I take my lunch break, I’ll send her the big wall of text of what I had hoped we could talk about like adults. And I do.
I prefaced it explaining that this was not a breakup text, and what my intentions were. Well to put it simply, she could not have given less of a stuff. She loving LOSES IT. Goes off on what a piece of stuff I am, accusing me of leading her on, pretending to love her, that she can’t believe I am breaking up with her. It was all so hypocritical and confusing, there was no making any sense of it. Then she tells me—
Actually, let me explain something real quick. So I don’t write many checks. Near zero. Don’t have a checkbook. My girlfriend does though. Our first mortgage payment for the house had to be a mailed check for some reason. After that, it could all be done online. So with our first payment due date coming near, I gave her the money for her to deposit into her checking, she wrote the check, and mailed it.
(Woo wee)
—Then she tells me, she’s withdrawing the mortgage payment and leaving. Well now I’m pissed. I tell her it’s not hers to take. But her grand justification is that she’s going to be homeless and will need it more than me. She stops texting me after that. A few hours later, I’m leaving work, and she texts me again. Right away I get on her ass about the money, and she tells me that she’s not taking it anymore. Oh no, it’s rewind time. She starts hinting that she’s going to kill herself. Here we go again. I’m trying to get her to outright say it though. Then she starts suggesting that she has a gun. This ain’t my first rodeo guys, so I call her bluff. And just as I had hoped, she took a loving picture of it and sent it to me. I knew it was a picture she took, it was our bedroom in the background, her hand holding the gun. So now I’m done talking to her and I call our local town police and explain the whole situation, and I ask if they have someone, a number, I can send the texts and picture to. I send them over, and they tell me they’re sending officers over to the house. My job is done.
If you’re confused, the state we lived in was constitutional carry—meaning as long as you don’t have a criminal record, you can walk into a gun store, but a gun, and leave with it the same day. Some real Grand Theft Auto stuff.
About an hour into my drive, the secretary at the station calls me. She tells me not to go home, go to the police station first. Okay.
HOLY stuff
That’s all she would tell me. For the remainder of that drive, the only thought in my head was that she actually did it. Blew her loving brains out, and that officials were still cleaning up the mess and didn’t want me walking in on it. It didn’t help that when I got to town all I could see were ambulances driving around, more than usual.
I get to the police station and the first thing the officer tells me is that she’s okay. He explains that they showed up, she answers the door, and denies making any threats to her own life. It was at this time that they received the texts from their secretary. They ask her if she has a gun and she tells them she does, and they ask her to retrieve it for them and hand it over. She does. She willingly goes to the hospital for a quick evaluation and that’s that. The officer asks to see my phone and if he can look through the texts I had with her, I scroll to the beginning of today for him and he reads it all.
It’s then that he pulls me aside and explains to me that when they retrieved the gun, there were only two rounds in it. One in the chamber. One in the mag. And based on the texts where she is constantly wondering how much longer till I get home, and telling me not to come in the bedroom or she’ll shoot herself before “she’s ready,” he figured I was walking into an ambush.
Woah. Now I’ve pissed folk off before, but never to the point that someone wanted to literally kill me. This was heavy.
They ask if I want to have her involuntarily committed into a psych ward, that she’s still at the hospital, and I tell them I’m going to talk to her mother first. Before I get a chance to call her though, the officer leaves to go talk to the hospital. When he comes back, he can’t tell me everything, but the impression he gave me was that after the explained the loaded gun situation to the doctor, they didn’t need me to fill out this certain request form, so I was all set.
I go home, now wondering what to do next. I don’t have a very good signal at the home, so I go outside. I call her mother and explain everything that had happened. She’s so sorry. She tells me I deserve better. That we obviously don’t work, and I need to leave her. We talk for a bit. I get a voicemail from the police department. They tell me my girlfriend was released from the hospital. Whattheforget. I get a voicemail from her mother. She tells me that my girlfriend just called her asking her if she could get a ride from the hospital. When she tried to ask her what happened, she just got pissed, swore at her mother, and said she would find someone else. Then I get a call from my girlfriend’s half-brother. He tells me he just got a call from his sister. Asking for a ride from the hospital. He tells me he asked her why she was at the hospital. She tells him it was “a domestic violence thing with Audax.”
(Hoooo boy)
Then he tells me it didn’t sound right to him, so he told her he’d call her back, and he calls his(their) mother, and she explains the whole situation to him.
Now he’s telling me how sorry he is. How I could do better and deserve better. That even though she is his sister, he admits she is a “pretty forgeted up individual.” He explains that her whole life, him and mother, their whole family, pretty much expected her to grow up one day and either seriously harm someone or herself. And and this case, that someone was almost me. He tells me I need to walk away. Just walk away and move on from her. Pretty sobering to hear all this from her own family.
I call the mother back and ask her what to do, and she explains I can get an emergency 24-hour restraining order. Apparently she’s had to do it before with my girlfriend’s dad, her ex-husband. After that, I can get month long one. Yeah this was because of the gun, but we also knew she would trash the place and do god knows what to the house while I was at work. So I contact the police and they get me one no problem.
The next day I go and file for a real restraining order, and they approve it. A few days later, I get served my own restraining order? I lawyer up, I print out tons of text messages, I annotate notes for him. Tons of stuff on her and how unstable she is. I get copies of police reports to clear my name, one being the one from when she dislocated her elbow—because now she was trying to say that I abused her. She requests an accelerated hearing, and the date arrives. We don’t even see the judge. Both our lawyers had the same idea. Withdraw our orders, and sign a personal no-contact form—other than text or email—so we can figure out the house thing from there. And that’s that.
I really wish I would have thought more about the fact that she lied about all the stuff in her restraining order request, and about the fact that she lied to her brother about the whole domestic thing. That is some character defining stuff. But more on that later.
This next part will be the final part my friends. And then we will be all caught up. Gotta take a break for a bit.
EDIT: Too long to add to this, too long for even a new post. Part Eight
here on PasteBin.