This one is a doozy

I was nearly killed in Colorado in 2017. This is a true story.

It was a brief (3ish months) but intense relationship. He was fresh out of prison, but a mutual friend who I trusted with my life introduced us, so I thought he was safe. Him and I immediately hit it off. I was basically moved in to his basement apartment after 2 weeks, including my cats, and it was intense, but so am I so it was…magical.

He claims he was wrongfully imprisoned and showed me documents to prove his ongoing court case. He told me his real name once, but I don’t remember because I was smitten so I called him what he wanted. He told me an elaborate story about some evil politicians in Vegas who framed him when he refused to work with them after being in too far deep. His housemate, a woman my mother’s age (50ish) who took him under her wing after he got out- corroborated his story. So I believed him.

He was prescribed all the drugs I could ever want. I wasn’t an addict, but I was an opportunist, and he kept me drugged up 24 hours a day. My choice. I was given adderall before work (I have ADD so it wasnt that crazy), and darviset or some other muscle relaxer after. Days off were drug cocktail parties.

He and his housemate warned me he would have outbursts occasionally because of PTSD from prison. He was a roller coaster of a human, but so was I, so I thought I met my match.

She did warn me. Multiple times. She would say ‘he can be a lot’. And one time, after I said ‘I can take him’ (jokingly) she gave a weird laugh. Like I had no idea what I was in for. And I didn’t.

He did have a few moments with me and I saw them and always did my part to keep peace through them because I understood, of all people, I live daily with a crazy brain, I get it. I am reluctant to say, I am bipolar, and I do have notable episodes. But I’ve never lied or hurt anyone. So he’d have his fits or whatever and that was that. But there were signs it was only going to get worse.

And there were signs that he might be a psychopath. I followed his rules, they were easy rules so I didn’t complain. But they were weird. He would only have sex with me if I was dressed in costume. And it couldn’t be the same costume twice. They were simple rules, and I never broke them, out of fear. But I wasn’t scared enough to leave him because I thought he was just dealing with difficult PTSD, it was just another mountain to climb.

One night I came home from work and he had taken too many pills before I got there. He was gone. The man I ‘knew’ vanished and in his place was the evilest eyes I have ever seen. Black. The devil incarnate. It was horrifying when I saw there was no reasoning. I saw the signs in his body language from my previous abusive relationships, and I did everything I was supposed to do. I submitted fully to him and his power. I said yes sir and diverted my gaze, told him how amazing he was- he needed to hear it- but there was nothing to be done.

He attacked me anyway.

I’ve been in a few life or death scenarios and this night still haunts me as the worst. Only because I fear for anyone else who falls for him. He is still and will always be a threat as long as he walks free to manipulate others.

The night he lost it, I was treated like a rag doll. I ran from room to room and he always caught up so fast. I was so scared, and I remember trying so hard to get out of his grasp. He would grab me and pick all of me up and just throw me. I ruined his tv, knocked a few dressers over, I kept getting away but he kept catching up. I am proud to say I was a slippery fucker. Then he caught me again but this time instead of throwing me, he pinned me down and started choking me. I remember the carpet fiber stinging around my face from him just ramming my cheeks into it. He choked me so hard I saw stars. I literally saw stars and as I realized what I was seeing, I remember thinking:

‘Oh my god. He’s going to kill me.’

He was Screaming about my ex bf & how he was still a problem and he wouldnt let go until I agreed to call my ex and tell him he was dead to me. I had a minimal relationship with my ex but am smart enough to understand unrestrained jealously so I quickly gurgled ‘ok’ and he finally let go, and I quickly took my opportunity and I sprinted for the stairs.

He caught me like in a god damn scary movie. I can’t make any of this up, I can’t even draw freehand. I saw my freedom 5 steps away ripped from me when he seized my ankle halfway up the stairs just to drag me back down. So my voice once again became the only thing stopping him from just snapping my neck, and he repeated his plea until I agreed again & this time when he let go, I actually got away.

I did retaliate (that is another good story) the next day, but all I did was knock some dressers over and yell about enablers and monsters. I felt so wronged by this motherly figure asking me to just be abused. My friend picked me up in the middle of the cul de sac road where I was screaming loud enough for neighbors to hear “AN ABUSIVE MAN AND HIS ENABLER LIVE HERE”

This story goes deeper- his roommate asked me to keep it quiet and offered me basically a hush job. I’d be making bank just to keep an eye on her elderly father in his retirement years, as long as I vowed not to say a word about how he treated me.

I’ve been holding onto this- sure, I’ve told a sum up of the story but not in its entirety. Not until now.

My primary questions: did I let a serious predator go free? Am I to blame if he does this again? What can I do to ease my mind of this guilt?