Ex-Mother In Law

Just when everything seemed peaceful and in order, I received a phone call from a debt collector, saying that my ex-boyfriend didn’t finish paying something from the property we were living in together. Unfortunately both of our names were on the lease, which means that if the debt wasn’t payed on time, it would affect to both of our credits.
I, naively, called his mom, because there’s a no contact order between us, and as soon as she answered I told her that this was going to be an awkward phone call, but I was just letting her know, because I knew that he already had a bad credit and woulnd’t want it to get worse.

Well, the phone call didn’t go as expected, she started raising her voice at me, telling me how I fucked up his son’s life, how I was wrong on not accepting that he didn ‘t love me any more and that he was in love with someone else.
Really, Shawnee? I fucked up his life? It was all my fault? Wow!… I kept my cool, listened to what she had to say and answered ..
“Look, Shawnee, I didn’t call to cause any problems, on the contrary, it was just to let you know what was going on because I can’t have any type of contact with your son. Second, I know that he’s your son, and that you will obviously take his side and support him, believe me, I ain’t asking other wise. And last, both of us know what he did, but if lying to yourself makes you feel better, go ahead.”

After hanging up, a lot of things came to my mind…She was blaming ME for what happened to his son, she was blaming ME for all the money that has been spent since then.
Seriously, how ignorant can a person be… I was 1000 miles away, and my case passed, evidence was accepted and I didn’t have to be there in person to testify against him because they had MORE THAN ENOUGH. Just think about that tiny little note, Shawnee. All of this was caused by him, not me.

Have a good day.

 

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Up to Date

During the time that I’ve been back in California with my family, there have been three court dates. The first one didn’t go that well because,obviously, I wasn’t there personally to testify and didn’t have enough evidence; so I sent screen shots from the messages that I had with his sister and him, admiting and recognizing his anger issues. After the second court date I was informed with good news, my case passed and he was finally declared guilty. On the third court date he was going to be charged, I was asked to send a letter if I had any type of requests, which I did, but every time I sat down to do that, I would get lost and just couldn’t. When I did manage to do so and send the letter, it was too late, it arrived a day after the hearing. What I wanted to request was a substance abuse program, that way he would be having to do scheduled and sporadic drug tests. Now he has to do community service, 18  months of probation, and the domestic violence program (which includes, counseling, and anger management).
Now, I was told that I could request restitution, something that I gave a good thought on, asked my friends for advice and their opinions, and acceded to do so.

There’s an upcoming court date in June where the desicion’s going to be made. Hopefully, everything goes well, like it has been since I decided to leave Oregon.

#BitchBetterHaveMyMoney

Off we go…

So before hitting the road, I went to fill up the tank, get some air on my tires, an oil change and a quick check-up. Well, when I went to get my check-up, the mechanic told me that I made a good desicion on getting it done, I didn’t even take a look under the hood, because my radiator cap wasn’t there. It sucks to realize that the person you loved, maliciously, wanted to hurt you, to leave you stranded in the middle of nowhere…

I don’t even remember where my first stop was, if in Idaho or somewhere before that in Oregon. During that first night I called his mom to let her know what had happened, that I wasn’t going to press charges because I just wanted to get as far away as I could. She understood the position that I was in, actually, she understood it very well because she was in the same position I was in years ago with her ex-husband, my ex-boyfriend’s dad. His dad, an alcoholic, heroin addict, bipolar, schizophrenic. I can clearly remember how he would say that he has always been white trash, that he had worked so much to not be that type of person.

When I finally reached Utah, my car started failing, it was hella cold outside and my needle was fluctuating straightly to hot after every mile I would try to drive. I ended up staying four nights in a Super 8 Motel in a very small populated city, Tremonton. The bills were adding up, my funds were running out, and my desperation and depression were increasing by the minute. Every night, before going to sleep, I would have to do yoga and respiration excersizes to make my heartrate go down and stay down. My company on my slepless nights was a woman from the 24 hr Domestic Violence hotline. Sometimes the calls would consist of nothing, I just wanted some kind of company that knew exactly what I was going through, and she would bear with me every time I called.

 

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                                                                                                                                           Motel 6    Tremonton, UT

Third and Last Strike Pt. 3

While the policeman was talking to me, the policewoman was speaking with my upstairs neighboor. After both of them left, I heard my door knock and it was him, which I’ve only said hi twice in all this time living here. He came in and asked me if I was okay, I couldn’t hold my tears or my words in, I immediately started telling him everything, I felt, I don’t know, safe with him…this sense of tranquility. He just stood there and really listened to me, apparently he is a counselor for children that have been through some kind of abuse in their life’s, he left around forty five minutes later. I finished packing, finished organizing everything in my car, came back, stood in the middle of the living room and gave that apartment one last look. All the memories that were made in that place were played before my eyes as I was swipping from left to right, and it ended when my face was facing the door. I locked the door, even though there wasn’t no use for it because the glass was cracked right open. I got in my car, called my ex-roomate and let her know that I was on my way. When I got to her place, her roomates welcomed me with a comfortable silence in their cozy living room, she cooked something quick for me and her roomate gave me an inflatable bed to sleep in. Before passing out, I contacted his sister that lives in Temecula and told her about the situation, and that she should be there for him, because his brother isn’t really the best shoulder to lean on. She wasn’t surprised by his actions, she actually accepted that he has anger issues, but didn’t think it would “happen” to me because of how I was a positive change in his life. She also told me that he didn’t deserve me, that it was the right desicion to make for me to leave him and get to a place safe, that he had to confront the consequences for his actions. All of this was talked through Facebook Messenger, which later on helped as evidence for my case to pass and him to be 100% guilty.

At 6 am, I woke my friend, and said goodbye..got in my car and started driving off. Off to the middle of the United States, my ass was heading towards Omaha, NE once again.

Third and Last Strike Pt.2

My respiration was off, my heartbeat was up, and my head felt like it was about to explode. I grabbed everything that I gave him, all his clothes were thrown in the slimy trash can that was outside our apartment. I sent a message to that low life, Krystie Spears, telling her that she won, that it was fine, but that all of his crap was gone. He immediately came back, I was placing some of his belongings outside, by this time my roomate left because she had something to do.
While I was placing a box out of the door, I bent down and that’s when he kicked me behind my hamstring, I stood up and started walking, didn’t even give me a chance to shake it off when he threw me against the wall. Again, he left, and took what he could. I immediately called my friend and she said to hold on, that she was on her way. I kept packing my things when I received a phonecall from her ” He’s coming! He’s coming!” I asked her where she was and she told me that she was entering the alley, but that he was running towards my place, I dropped my phone and pthumbnail_FullSizeRender (1)ut myself against the door. He tried to unlock the door, noticed that I was there and started kicking the door until it cracked and he broke the glass that was there. I was
really scared, hoping that he would give up and leave, but the door wasn’t going to hold for much longer so I stepped back, let him in and I went outside where my friend was. She was standing outside her car, he started walking, flipped me off with his both hands, and pulled his pants down when he was across the street.
A little after was when the 911 call was placed by my friend, the harrassment and abuse wasn’t stopping, and it was clear that it wasn’t even near to an end. I waited patiently for the police to show up, it felt like an eternity. Two big police cars parked in front of my apartment and the interview with them started. After describing them a hundred times everything that happened, I was taken inside to strip down and have pictures taken of me where he previously and recently hit me. I could only keep thinking “Why is this happening to me? How did it come to this?”…

 

 

Third and Last Strike Pt.1

Couldn’t sleep that night, smoked some weed, didn’t help, so I finished unpacking for the second time all my belongings from the car. I felt good, being in my home felt great, cooked some breakfast for him for when he got off from work he would have some hot food on the table. Everything was painting for a good day, but he got home stressed from work. That was it, that’s what ticked him off, off on me…

He only took a couple of bites and sat in bed, his attitude was weird, he was acting kind of sketchy. We left the apartment and went to do some laundry at the laundry matt. He took my tablet and spent all the time inside of the car in the backseat chatting with who know’s who…Who am I lying to ? He was talking to that girl. He stepped out, finally, I approached him and asked him what was going on, then he said “We’re done”, I used stared at him with such disbelief and disappointment. Went inside, started grabbing my stuff and headed to the car fast. He was right behind me, trying to get into the car as fast as he could before I had a chance to lock the passenger door. As soon as he got inside he started banging the console and almost blew the air bag up. This was the first time I raised my voice at him, he called me a bitch and I said to him, very loudly “You think that this is me being a bitch? You’re wrong, but if you really want to see a bitch, hang on ’cause you’ll see one RIGHT NOW”. I drove to the apartment, went straight into the room and threw all of his clothes from the closet out to the living room. He then, again, said that he was going to stay at some buddie’s house and wouldn’t come back ’till the next day and that he hoped that I was gone by then. He prepared his overnight bag and went out for a walk. I coulnd’t take the frustration and anger, I had to talk to someone, so I called my ex-roomate and she came by. Half an hour later, he comes back, quietly, picks up the bag, and left without saying a word. I went into the kitchen and kind of opened the blinds, there he was, inside of a ridiculous orange car, that’s when I finally was able to put a face to the name. My world crashed, just kept walking back and forth in the living room, my friend didn’t know how to calm me down, she was also in disbelief.

Diary entry 1.

So I already put some clothes back into the drawers from my old bedroom, was having a good morning, had a bomb ass breakfast and decided to go for a walk at the beach. I opened the drawer and picked out my pink tank top, and guess what the fuck I found on it? A blue fucking hair, this is the second fucking time I find a blue strand of hair, the first time on the compartment that I put my underwear in and now on my tank top. Fyi, that’s the hair of the 22 yr old, single, psycho, bitch, mom, that was fucking my ex-boyfriend, It just makes me think that nothing, absolutely nothing, that we had together was close to being real. God damn it, how could I be so stupid? I was so drawn by him, hypnotized..

I gave him everything, all of me, I was fully committed to him, to us. I’ve never been a relationship type of girl, he was the second boyfriend I’ve had in my 24 yr old life. I gave myself a chance, after three years that took me to get over my first boyfriend, I decided to make that jump, but love got to disappoint me again.

So, I’ve been thinking in two great women lately, celebrity’s that have been in a domestic relationship, Christy Mack and Rihanna, and how their lives developed after that. Both of them grew as a person, became stronger, successful women, but one of them have already found a great, loving man, and the other nothing at all. It just keeps me wondering, wondering if I could get to be lucky and find the right person, or close myself to possibilities.