We last left off with our hero returning home from her long journey through the World as she had never experienced before *cheesy music starts to play and a good lookin' young lady is standing in the doorway of her Mother's ranch styled home. The wind is blowing through her hair and then... then she wakes the hell up and realizes that her house key doesn't fit through the doorknob of the old house she grew up in high school in* DANG IT!!
On the previous post I was skimming through all the dreadful details to hit only the main points, but this one will be different. For starters, let's just say my dear sweet mother went through a mid-life crisis after her divorce from my daddy. Not only had she been put on depression meds (it's a common theme in our household... yet another elephant in the room that no one ever wants to talk about), but she went through this phase of painting, and repainting the walls of the house, carpeting and re carpeting the small living room and all the way to the back of the house (hallway), and tiling... then re tiling the kitchen floors with the fake and cheap ass linoleum stuff you can buy at a discount store. :( But worst of all of these things... worst of all, apparently in the 2.5 years of me being gone (17-nearly 20yrs of age) she had the locks on the front door changed 14 times. *long sigh* I love her, but damn. I mean, we didn't ever get along until I was a mature adult, but alot of the times... it really wasn't me rebelling... it was me reacting rationally to her wild behavior *nod nod*.
So anyhow, yes, I returned back to Hinesville Georgia, nearly 20years old and ready to start anew, right? Well my family is kinda jacked up... so when I got in town (after calling my mother, and father, who lives an hour and 40min from her) when I got to mum's house, I couldn't get in, and no matter who I called ( my brother's and sister) No one was really in any hurry to meet up with me and welcome me home. I was used to that type of behavior when I lived there but after being gone 2 years... I was accustomed to normal family interaction... *sigh* Anyways... where was I? I quit at Victoria's secret and started working the night shift at the Target store in Savannah. Unfortunately my car that had gotten me from FL to Co had died on me out there and I was borrowing my mom's Chevy tracker. Did I mention she was crazy? Cause yea... she crazy.
I only lived with her for three months (along with my eldest sibling, sister who is 4 years older than me, and kid brother who is 2 years younger than me) and I noticed that everyone was freeloading off of her. So much so, that I was helping her with the mortgage, the electricity bill, and paying for her car insurance! Now... I'm not gonna lie, I didn't mind helping with the first two but there were many occasions that I had to say "OK, seriously... why am I the only one who has to pay for car insurance..." only to have her threaten me with "If you don't want to pay you can just leave my car here and walk to Savannah every night..." and eventually I just got fed up. Fed up and stopped helping her pay for it. It was just like... "expected" and really pissed me off, ya know? Don't "expect" me to help you when your other children don't and they walk all over you and your authority. We're all adults here... let's have a family chat about finances....
You'll never guess where that idea landed me. Let's see... it's Wednesday night, 8pm, I'm driving to work, gotta be there by 9. I work the night shift, and get home around 6am. Outside the front door is all of my belongings packed up, and the front door's lock changed, again, and a note that is asking that I and my stuff not be on "her"property by the time she got home for dinner (approximately 5pm).
So... I went back to Savannah and pretty much had to ask my boss for a few days off to go apartment shopping and find a solution to carry me through until that all worked out. Luckily for me, I had a co-worker that lived about 10minutes away from my mom's house. They stepped in and we ended up carpooling to work. He was very nice. He was actually one of the folks I was casually dating up until the carpooling started. Lol, I had no idea he lived 'that' close to my mom's house rofl, andI didn't even ask him to carpool, someone else did without even telling me. Anyways we had alot in common (regarding the musical arts hehe) and went on a few dates that revolved around our love of music. Lot's of mini-concerts, lots of amateur nights in clubs I could never get in (because I was just a year shy of legally getting through the door), and just had a good time whenever. But then we started carpooling, and put up this facade that we weren't even seeing one another. We also both thought it would be AWESOME to get a two bedroom apartment in Savannah together, cause he was like 26 and still living with his parents as well. (Why my caution lights never went off with this guy in the beginning, is beyond me).
Yadda Yadda we started dating and got an apartment in Savannah. I think us dating barely made it to a year... but the drama that followed us officially calling it "official" was more than apparent. You learn alot about a person when you live with them. Like... Oh, I didn't realize that he was on 5 different types of medications for depression and other psychological issues that he battled with. On top of that he was a raging alcoholic as well. At this point and time I hadn't even remotely been drawn to drink alcohol, and if he was the example of it's results, I was glad to no even want to taste one drop.
We fought alot about rent and the bills. He made just a little more than I did, but his checks would go straight to the ABC liquor store first, then the left overs would come to "his part" of bills. When you're living on your own and paying 845 bucks a month for rent (not even including utilities), and you can't make ends enough to eat more than ramen noodles/spaghetti every night for dinner because you are making just barely that much in minimum wage a month... it's gets nerve wrecking to be handed over 50 bucks here, and 70 bucks there to "help pay because it's all he had". It reminded me of living with my mother. Hell, she didn't even pay me to pay for shit but it was the same damn thing, in my head.
Apparently my bickering annoyed him so much that he broke up with me. But under all of that it was worse than that. Before we "split" he would have these moments that he'd black out and get all psycho on me and start referring to me as "Rachel"... Allow me to explain. A year prior to moving to the area (and in with his parents) he was in North Carolina, dating some gal named Rachel. He did everything for her, and she returned the favor by screwing his best friend in their living room around the time he'd usually get off of work. So he snapped and beat the living daylights out of her, had to go to rehab, and was put on all these meds and sent back "home".
Details I hadn't known much about until after the "him choking me up against a wall and calling me Rachel, after asking if he had his half of the rent check ready for me to turn in" incident. So yes I was fed up and got into his drunken face about the rent check and how I couldn't pay for his half again and he just snapped and pushed me up against the wall, choking me and smiling. Before I passed out I just remembered him calling me an evil bitch and spitting in my face all like "fuck you Rachel, you evil bitch".
Coming to was wild. He was sitting there rocking back and forth, eyes all bloodshot, crying and apologizing and stroking my hair. "I'm so sorry. I love you. Idk where that all came from. Forgive me. I'll never do that again. I thought you were dead. I love you. *constant crying*". It all scared the HELL out of me, but I didn't know what to do. At this point, I had had at least 4 different college roomies, and even a live in girlfriend room mate, but never a psycho... I was scared. I ended up picking up extra work shifts and paying all the bills, and avoiding him completely at home, and at work. Not just because of this one incident. But because it became routine, and more and more abusive each time.
I stopped sleeping in my bedroom because he had broken the lock on the door. I slept in the upstairs bathtub. I stopped eating, I stopped socializing with people, I changed my work schedule to work days (while he worked nights) and even that didn't stop him. He walked right into work on day behind me, in the employee bathroom and locked the door behind us. I didn't even see him coming. He just turned me around as quickly as he possibly could and pushed me up against the wall and quietly said "If I wanted to find you, I could. Don't think that you can just avoid me." and then he walked out like nothing happened. Now... all of this was confusing the hell out of me. He, actually had broken up with me during one of his many "episodes" and that's what led me to just "Not deal with him unless it was to pay bills before the lease was up on the apartment we had gotten". Months later, he was still irrational. So much so that after breaking up with me, he tried to pick a fight with me while I was on the phone with my mother. He ended up pushing me out the 2nd story window and onto the grill and breaking my leg. Our neighbor knew that some excuse was gonna come up and that he wouldn't get charges pressed so she called the police and ended up filing against him about the whole ordeal. He wasn't happy about it so when I was discharged from the hospital, we got into another fight about the "nosey neighbor" and I pulled a knife on him because he was getting in my face. I had had enough of him, and if he really wanted to beat up on me he wasn't going to walk away like he always had. Bad idea. He had his own box cutter on him and when I pulled the knife out, he smirked and said "Oh I'm hurt... you'd actually use that on me? Newsflash Shar... I love you more than you love me. I'd hurt myself before you ever could, you're just... that... perfect... to me..." All the while he's crying and stabbing at his chest and then slits his wrists and falls to the ground.
The police and ambulance came in (the neighbor had called them after the screaming and crying wouldn't stop) and at first I was cuffed, cause I was still shaking, in front of the doorway, covered in drops of his blood, and holding a knife. Then the neighbor came over and said she was watching from the back window and had pretty much vouched for me and my version of what had happened. I was uncuffed, the house was swept for all the alcohol containers, and knifes/box cutters, he was put on oxygen and bandaged up, then taken away.... The rest of the night was a blur. I was at the neighbors. I slept on her couch. I went home early the next morning and scrubbed the blood off the walls an off the floor, off the carpet, and off the bathroom door. It was insane. Insane but over? I had received a letter from a psychiatric center that had been treating him. They pretty much let me know that he was in their custody for at least 20/25days and that he had given my name to be the only person to be able to get him released from their care, early.
But I did manage to get away from town for like a month and a half and met up with some buddies from Florida. We all met up in Atlanta and partied hard. It was awesome. It was like a vacation away from all the craziness that I allowed myself to put up with. I was now 21, and could drink with everyone and enjoyed myself a Lil vacay.
When I returned home... it was a different story. The ex, had returned. He looked and smelled like he hadn't bathed in weeks, and had gained like 20lbs. Now... honestly I didn't mind the weight gain, but the fact that he was so gross in the first place just really made it hard not to notice it as well. He looked ill. It broke my heart. I tried to talk to him, and offered to "help" him with his drinking problems... Ya know what that got me? A crying 27/28 year old drunk, asking me to take him back because he loved me, and that I was so "pure" and so "forgiving" that I had to see that he was "battling" with "demons" and he needed direction....
All hogwash I had heard before and after having a month to clear my head of all the constant drama, I had had enough of his bullshit. He left my apartment and didn't show face for 3 months. Life was good man. Really laid back. I had started to rediscover my old friends that I had left behind and I was taking better care of myself. It was awesome.
Halloween came around and my coworkers wanted to dress up and go clubbing. Lol... Why not? Whats the worst that could happen? So I got all dolled up as black barbie and went out with my girls that night.
October 31st, 2006. The night that would change my life had begun. :)
Okay okay, I know what you're thinking... Whoa... way too much info, girl. Well you know what? Fuck you. If it was tmi you would've stopped reading paragraphs ago,lol. This is my blog and I will say what I want to. Don't like it? Stop reading. Simple as that.
We'll pick back up on the next post, aye? :)
One love
Kiss Kiss
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