My Crazy Ex
I just spent the last few days binge watching episodes of the show “My Crazy Ex,” and while a lot of those stories are outrageous, some of them don’t surprise me at all. Obviously if you’ve followed my blog, you know I have had several of my own personal experiences in dealing with crazies, but I haven’t told all of them.
I’d graduated college in my late 20s after my stint in the military. Teaching was what I really wanted to do, but finding a job was difficult without experience. I’d moved to South Florida to work for a company while applying for teaching positions in both the area I was living in and the area I was from.
In the meantime, I had visited my family in my hometown and had gone out with a friend to a beach bar. My friend and I ran into some guys we’d known from high school, and I ended up dating one of them, an electrician. For this writing, I’ll just call him Sparky.
At that point in my life, I had already been divorced from my child’s father for about 7 years and had one boyfriend in college for two years, so I had very little actual dating experience. I also had an 8-year-old at the time, which made dating extremely difficult. Sparky was super nice like all men are at the beginning of dating – caring and attentive, generous, and good to my daughter. I was still living in South Florida, so we attempted a long-distance relationship until I was hired for a teaching job in my hometown. Sparky had been living at his mother’s (red flag), and being that I was going to be moving back to the area, we decided to get a place together. Worst mistake ever!!!
It was only about weeks two or three that I realized Sparky had a lot of issues that could not be overlooked. I’d started my teaching job, and being that I was a new teacher, I had to spend a lot of time grading papers and putting together lesson plans at home on my own time. Sparky didn’t like that, saying I should be getting paid or just don’t do it. Although I agree that teachers should get paid for all of that work, most of us are dedicated to the job and not in it for the money, and it was essential to be prepared before the following day. Sparky didn’t seem to understand that, because I was working on my computer a lot. He was watching TV anyway, and everything was 20 feet apart, so what difference did it make? The difference was, Sparky wasn’t getting attention; he was actually jealous of my job! But it didn’t end there.
Sparky had already turned me off with his jealousy, so sex was out of the question with him, not to mention I was exhausted from the move and my job and being a mom – and he was exhausting me with his bullshit. He had gone to an AC/DC concert with friends one night, leaving me alone; I was elated and took the time to investigate some things – because I never had alone time. I knew he was reading all of my things on my computer but also my journal, which pissed me off. I had put my bookmark in a special way, and when I opened it, it had been turned. So I took the opportunity to write some things that I know would piss him off and see if he’d read it, like saying what a jerk he was being and how small his dick was.
When Sparky came back, I pretended to be asleep. He tried to cuddle with me by sticking his tiny dick against my back, and I shook him off. He tried it again but was more aggressive. Again, I shook him off. I knew he was pissed. It was extremely tense trying to sleep next to someone who is angry, and you’re unsure of what their reaction is going to be.
By week three, I realized that I needed to get out of the situation, discussed it with some people I knew and realized I could not afford to move again. I thought that by talking to Sparky like adults should discuss important things, that he would be okay with moving back in with his mother, because it obviously was NOT going to work out. I figured he’d be understanding of moving my daughter around again, she’d just started a new school, and I had nowhere else to go.
Talking to Sparky didn’t go well at all. He became angry immediately, yelled at me and called me names, told me to get out, threatened to throw all of my belongings over the balcony, and accused me of using him. I was truly scared for my life. At some point, he cornered me and attempted to get me to put my hands on him so he could yell to the police about it. I knew his game, but I was one up on him, so I knew to protect myself. He was right up in my face with his smelly breath. Believe me, I wanted to punch the shit out of him just to get him away from me. He was such a piece of shit, but I wasn’t sure he’d actually broken the law (I found out he’d been in a domestic violence situation before with his ex wife). That’s when I realized I was dealing with a truly fucked up individual, and it might be a little harder to get him out than I’d thought. Obviously, his behavior was unacceptable and threatening, but I wasn’t sure how bad it had to be to a judge.
He kept doing truly evil things, and then he had a friend send a virus to my computer that he knew I needed for my job. Another day, he’d left a few written sheets of paper on the kitchen table, labeled on the top the word “journal” with things written insulting things about me, and it was just stupid and child-like. I knew he’d done it facetiously, because that meant he’d actually read my journal, and this was his way of getting me back!
At this point, I needed to talk to someone about what to do to get him out. I could not afford to move again, and he was putting us through hell. I had my brother watch my child for for a couple of hours while I went for legal advice, but my appointment was taking a little longer than usual. I had asked my brother to put her to bed at a specified time, because she had school. But then Sparky showed up and decided to mess with my baby bear. Big mistake!! He’d turned the music up so loud and kept doing it while my daughter was trying to sleep. My brother was waiting for me to get home and tried to ask Sparky to turn it down, because she had to go to school, and Sparky told them that he would keep turning it up every night until we left. When my stepfather had heard about it, he went over to the house and threatened to beat Sparky’s ass. The police came and I reported what Sparky had done, because it was basically child abuse. It was a total shit show. I just wanted a peaceful home, just my baby girl and me and our kitties.
The next day, I paid a visit to the courthouse on my lunch break. I had been documenting everything, and I filed for a restraining order against him and asked for an emergency one, because it was a Thursday. His 3-page “journal” was also great for the evidence. I wanted him out before the weekend when the courts were closed. I wanted him out by the time I got home from work, but it didn’t happen until the following day. My request had been granted. He wasn’t allowed within 500 feet of the house, my work, or my baby bear’s school, nor could he contact me in any way.
Some things kept happening, like flat tires (which I couldn’t prove) – plus, Sparky was allowed to go back to my house and get his things. I enlisted some very willing friends to help me get his shit out of there and put it on the front patio so that he didn’t have to come in the house. The police had to escort him over, and he still insisted on coming into the house, and the police allowed him. I wasn’t allowed to see what he was doing. He was allowed upstairs alone – and he stole all of my bathroom items I’d just purchased (still had the receipt), toilet paper, all of my personal hygiene things (soap, shampoo, toothbrush, etc.), rubbed deodorant on the toilet seat, and a few other things I cannot remember. I was pissed that he was allowed upstairs alone for that amount of time. The officers told me that Sparky had said some pretty bad things about me, to which I replied that it didn’t surprise me and reminded them of who had to leave the home. A few days later I figured out he’d put itching powder (which is basically fiberglass) in my bra. I was getting ready for work when it happened when I noticed these little tiny shards of something and learned that it was itching powder. Again, I cannot believe he was allowed in my house like that after what he’d done.
Once it went to court, the judge awarded me the apartment, because I proved that Sparky was a psycho liar with a horrible temper. He actually wasted money on an attorney and lost his case. I proved everything with receipts and checks and a paper trail. He had nothing but a restraining order to stay the fuck away from me and leave me and my kid alone.
I haven’t run into him since, but people I know have. Like most of the people in my dating past, I don’t ever care to see him again. He was a disgusting individual with a cold heart, and I believe things could have gotten way worse had I not had a court order. I know a lot of women have experienced volatile situations like this, and when a child is involved, it makes it more difficult to leave. I’ve never put myself in another situation like that again. But he got married again and had a child. I cannot imagine that he’s changed, but I do hope for the sake of his wife and child that he’s improved somewhat and taken some accountability.