Monday, August 21, 2006

A Person's Worst Nightmare

As a criminal justice major, I learned a lot of valuable information about crimes ranging from murder to assault; crimes committed by people who make the wrong turn in life. Out of all these perpetrators, stalkers scare me the most because they cannot be reasoned with, they are the most persistent type of criminal, and they are the most dangerous besides murderers. Stalkers, in essence, suffer from various mental defects and other problems that make them extremely dangerous to their victims and society. Unfortunately, very few people are aware of the dangers of stalking, and what they can do if they fall victim to it. Most people say that it can never happen to them, but then it happens. I too fell victim to that famous cliché.
After three months of dating Melissa, I finally broke up with her. I decided to do this because I felt that it was the best thing to do. Not only was Melissa obsessive, but highly possessive, and I felt that if the relationship continued, it would become increasingly difficult to live a happy life because she would have total control over me. After reading the note Sam gave me in the lunch line from Melissa, I knew that the next few months would not be easy for me.
Walking back to our dorm room after dinner, Sam knew that I was heartbroken. He left me alone for a while until I returned to my old self. I mean we talked about the situation, and I remember asking him if I did the right thing. Everyone I talked to said that I did.
A few days after the breakup, an unnamed source told me that Melissa was spreading rumors about me around the college and telling all her friends that I broke up with her. Naturally, all her friends viewed me as the jerk on campus and said that what I did was wrong. It was funny because I did everything for Melissa and her friends knew it. I figured that Melissa made up stories about me to make everyone on college think that I was the bad guy. But that was only the beginning.
One night, Sam and I were in our dorm room with the door closed watching television, when all of a sudden we heard a knock. When we opened the door, Melissa burst into the room, went directly to my desk, and took my utility knife out of the drawer. She flipped open the blade and was about to slit her wrists in our room when I quickly grabbed her hand that was holding the knife and quickly took it away from her. She told me that life wasn’t worth it anymore because of what I did to her. Her sorrow quickly turned to rage. She then asked me if the reason I broke up with her was because I was gay. I told her that wasn’t the reason. She then asked me if my parents had anything to do with it. I told her no. She stared at me for a while until she received a phone call from her friend downstairs. Melissa told her friend that she would be down in a minute to meet her. After hanging up her cell phone, she left our room. Sam and I looked at each other shocked as to what just happened.
A few days later, Melissa and I saw each other in the cafeteria. She came over to me, began acting cheerful around me and even began to hug me. I found it strange given the fact that she just tried to kill herself in our dorm room a few days ago. That affection continued until Valentine’s Day. Perhaps she thought there might be a chance for us to mend ties and get back together again. Amongst that affection, Melissa told me that her brother would kill me if he ever saw me because he said “nobody does that to my sister.”
About a week after Valentine’s Day, Melissa was talking to me, when all of a sudden she pulls out a disposable camera and takes three pictures of me in the dorm room. I asked her why she was taking pictures of me, but she just smiled and said nothing. All the while, I was documenting the unfolding events since the day we broke up. The more I looked at these incidents, between the multiple phone calls, her showing up wherever I went, it occurred to me that I might be stalked by Melissa. Talking to another unnamed source who was a retired police officer, he too said I was being stalked.
Now for some clarification. Melissa and I were still talking because when I broke things off with her, I told her that we could still remain friends. However, as these events were unfolding, I found it more difficult to be her friend. The unnamed police source told me to keep my distance from her and try to have no contact with her at all.
When I returned home for spring break, it was a relief to retreat from the situation between Melissa and me. During break, however, Melissa kept calling me all hours of the day, and beginning to text message me demanding that I call her. Sometimes the messages were sorrowful, other times they were a little threatening. Out of all the phone calls I received from Melissa, I did not return one.
It was in late March that I received a nasty email from Melissa. It read, “Okay, I have a question for you. You said that after we broke up I could call you if I ever needed to. I tried calling you when I wanted to lets say basically do bodily harm to myself. Were the hell were you to talk me out of it. Thank GOD a friend of mine called just when I was about to do the dirty deed. NEways my question is, how I am I supposed to count on you if your not even going to be there for me as friend?”
I hardly had any contact with Melissa until a fateful day in mid-April. I was in the cafeteria with some friends when Melissa came up to me again and demanded once more that I call her. She told me that it was a life or death situation and it was a private matter not to be discussed with anybody. I called her that night. While on the phone, she continued to be extremely depressed about me breaking up with her. She told me that she has contemplated suicide numerous times since that fateful day, and that she was even contemplating killing others (a.k.a. my friends) or killing me. When I heard this I was shocked. Since a threat was made to not only me, but to others, I had no choice but to maintain a guarded attitude while around Melissa. Even more guarded when John saw a burly man scoping out my car a week after her threat was made.
Since breaking it off with Melissa back in February 2005, she still hates everything to do with me. Throughout the remainder of my college life, she would harass me, spread rumors about me, and still cling on the faint hope that she could get me in a dark alley and kill me. I left college in May 2006 with the situation still unresolved. Sure, I notified the college about the situation, and even gave them copies of my documents pertaining to this stalking. Since she didn’t carry out any of her threats on me or my friends, I couldn’t call the police because they couldn’t do anything for me. Unfortunately, her mind about me hasn’t changed. Even though we are on different corners of the state, no telling what she would do next, or if this entire stalking incident is finally over.
The moral of the story is that nobody deserves to be stalked. Nobody deserves to have their lives changed for the worse. I was shocked on how few people know about the dangers of stalking in America. My goal in life is to educated people about stalking and domestic violence. Most of my research material comes from various stalking scholars. With this knowledge, I hope that everybody in America would become aware about this dangerous crime, and seek the help they are entitled to in order to bring the stalkers of this world to justice.

These stories that are told on this blog are true. The names have been changed to protect the true identities of those individuals involved. If you would like to respond to this blog entry, please click on the envelope next to comments underneath this article. On the screen that appears, enter your name and your email address. Under "friend's email address" enter Senorgetman@yahoo.com. I will only accept emails under this fashion. DISCLAIMOR: THIS WEBSITE BY NO MEANS OFFERS LEGAL ADVICE TO VICTIMS OF STALKING AND DOMESTIC ABUSE. IF YOU ARE CURRENTLY A VICTIM OF STALKING AND/OR DOMESTIC ABUSE, PLEASE CONTACT YOUR LOCAL LAW ENFORCEMENT AGENCY IMMEDIATLEY.

Monday, August 14, 2006

Tension Rising

Valentine’s Day is considered to be a lovers’ holiday. Lovers of all kinds do many romantic things, ranging from dinners, to going to a movie, to having intimate moments. Almost everybody looks forward to Valentines Day because they get to share a special day with that special someone in their lives. Even though I had a girlfriend at the time, I had a bad feeling about this special day.
When I returned home from college for Christmas break, I thought about the situation between Melissa and me. I knew that I had to break things off with her, but I didn’t know what to say, or when to do it. I talked to several people back home about the matter and they told me the best thing to do was just to break it off and break it off fast.
To add fuel to the fire, during Christmas break, Melissa kept calling me non-stop, asking how I was doing, saying she missed me, and what sensual things she would do to me when I returned to college. At that time, I was totally confused as to what to do. She seemed like she really cared for me, and I was beginning to have second thoughts if what I was doing was the right thing to do. I returned to college after break not feeling any better than when I had left. As soon as I returned (at least it felt that way), Melissa and I were back together doing the same things we were doing before break, but things got a little interesting, and it set the stage for things to come.
First off, Melissa wanted me to finally meet her parents. Since Melissa wanted me to attend dinner at her house to celebrate her mother’s birthday, I thought it was right to go. Melissa’s parents were upper middle class people who had great jobs, lived in a great neighborhood, and seemed to be good people. When we arrived at Melissa’s house, we were greeted by Melissa’s parents, brother, and brother’s girlfriend. We talked, shared a few laughs throughout the night, and really had a good time. After dinner, all of us went to the living room to talk some more. A few hours later, I decided to leave, because it was getting late. Melissa begged her father if she could go back to the college with me to hang out some more. The father, of course, allowed her to do it, much to my dismay.
As expected, once Melissa and I came back to the college, we shared more intimate activities for a while before I took her back home.
The next incident, the straw that broke the camel’s back, occurred when Melissa dragged me into going to her “sister’s” (a.k.a. her best friend’s) birthday party. The sister, which was about the same age as Melissa, had her party at a nearby bowling alley. Attending her party were a few more friends, totaling about 5 to 7 more people not including Melissa and me. In the beginning, we had fun, but as the party was progressing, things turned rather strange.
Melissa told me before arriving at this party that her “sister” looked almost identical to her. During the party, Melissa asked me if her and her “sister” looked alike. I looked at both of them standing in front of me, and all of a sudden Melissa flips out accusing me of checking her “sister” out. I told Melissa I was doing what she wanted me to, comparing both females. She didn’t believe me and didn’t speak to me for a while.
After the friends got tired of playing bowling, they decided to do something else. Somebody in the group proposed that we all go to the mall. Everybody decided that was a good idea, but the only problem was, who would drive. Melissa said that I would drive everybody to the mall, which everybody thought was a good idea. Before we went to the mall, however, everybody was hungry, so I had to drive half the group to a fast food restaurant, while the other half rode in another vehicle. While at the fast food restaurant, Melissa asked her friends how they liked her “boy toy” meaning me.
At the end of the day, I was disgusted with the day’s events. I dropped Melissa off at her house and went home. I made my decision that breaking things off was the best option. But, how would I do it?
I talked to some people about how I should break up with her in the least painful way. They recommended that I sit her down with her and just tell her. That’s exactly what I did. On a cold February day before Valentine’s Day, I was sitting upstairs in the cafeteria with John when Melissa came upstairs and sat down with us. I told her we needed to talk. John understood what was going on, so he quickly left. The look on Melissa’s face was that of utter shock because I believe she knew what I was about to say to her.
I told Melissa that we shouldn’t see each other, at least for a while. I explained to her that I needed my space because hanging out with her 24/7 was taking its toll on my schoolwork. She asked me if there was any chance we could get back together again in the future, which I responded by saying I didn’t know. I didn’t want to tell her the real reason for breaking it off with her (the fact that she was obsessive and highly possessive), because I didn’t want to hurt her further; the fact of me breaking it off with her was painful enough.
She took it quite well at the time. She didn’t cry or do anything; I mean we talked at the table for a while, but after the conversation was finished, she just got up and left. I knew she was hurt, but it wasn’t the hurt you would have expected. I asked myself repeatedly “did I do the right thing?” Given all the facts, I told myself that I needed to do it before things got worse. When John came back to the table, he asked me how I was doing. I don’t remember what I said to him, but I felt heartbroken at that time.
When I was walking back to the dorms, I kept telling myself that went better than expected. I’ve seen people break-up numerous times, and I myself have been through some break-ups. The woman most of the time cries and tries to get back together with the guy, but after a short while, they let things go. It is hard for both people to end a relationship, but for some reason, something in the back of my mind told me that breaking up with Melissa wasn’t going to be easy. It is hard to explain in one sentence, but my story will better explain it.
At dinnertime, Sam and I were waiting in line to get dinner. He looked at me, held out his hand, told me he had nothing to do with this, and dropped a folded up piece of paper in my hand. I unfolded the paper and it said:
"You are the only person that I want. I truly believe that we should be together. It tears me up inside knowing that I can’t be with you. I know that it is hard, but I want you to know that I will always love you. It’s going to be torture for me not being with you. I know that this is doing the same to you. I want to work this out with you. I don’t want to break up with you. I know that we are both very busy, and I know that we work in the weekends. I don’t care if you can’t call all the time. I don’t care if I don’t see you everyday. All that I want from you is your love. Knowing that you love one is all that I want. I don’t care about anything else. I’m willing to work this out with you if you want to try. If you don’t, I’ll understand. My heart is yours and yours alone. Yes, I am hurt that you broke up with me, but I know that you had good intentions. However, I’d rather have you as a boyfriend I don’t get to see often, then no have you at all. Without you, there’s no spark in my life. Without you, my day will never brighten. I go deeper and deeper into the dark abyss without you. I don’t know what you want of me? But whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. All that I want is to have you back. I know that I am loved and safe. Without you I am nothing.
Melissa"
Melissa gave Sam a note to give to me! It was at that time I knew I was in for a long road ahead of me.

These stories that are told on this blog are true. The names have been changed to protect the true identities of those individuals involved. If you would like to respond to this blog entry, please click on the envelope next to comments underneath this article. On the screen that appears, enter your name and your email address. Under "friend's email address" enter Senorgetman@yahoo.com. I will only accept emails under this fashion. DISCLAIMOR: THIS WEBSITE BY NO MEANS OFFERS LEGAL ADVICE TO VICTIMS OF STALKING AND DOMESTIC ABUSE. IF YOU ARE CURRENTLY A VICTIM OF STALKING AND/OR DOMESTIC ABUSE, PLEASE CONTACT YOUR LOCAL LAW ENFORCEMENT AGENCY IMMEDIATLEY.

Monday, August 07, 2006

The Stage Is Set

It was supposed to be two years on my own in the “college world.” Who would have thought those two years would be filled with dangerous situations that pushed myself to the limit.
I graduated with an associate degree in criminal justice from a small community college in central New York. This college laid the foundation for a career in criminal justice, but I hungered to learn more. One of my good friends, Dan, graduated with an associate degree in criminal justice alongside myself. Him and I were planning on attending the University of Albany after graduation in order to pursue a bachelor’s degree. Being in the same classes, Dan and I always heard good stories about Albany, how they are one of the top criminal justice schools in the nation, and how they use critical thinking to make students excellent criminal justice professionals. After some hard thinking both Dan and I decided to apply to the college; but unfortunately one of us wouldn’t make it.
I mean, we applied at the same time, but for some reason, Dan was the only one to get accepted. Since I didn’t want to wait another year to get my bachelor’s degree, I decided to search other colleges across New York State. I visited a website that listed all colleges that taught criminal justice, closed my eyes, and chose a college at random by pointing my finger onto the computer screen. It just so happens that my finger landed on a college in Western New York; I never heard about it nor of the place it was located in.
It was located in a small suburb south of a major Western New York city. The college itself teaches their students to analyze problems, which in turn makes them better problem solvers; a process called liberal learning.
After thinking about it long and hard, I decided to visit the college (actually my parents coaxed me into it, because I was still clinging on a faint glimmer of hope that my acceptance letter from Albany would arrive in the mail). So, one weekend, my family and I piled into the car and drove the three hour long drive to check the college out. The faculty, since the college was small, didn’t focus on the student as a name and number like Albany did, rather, they focused the student as a human being, and helped them out whenever problems arose; both personal and academically. The village itself seemed to be a safe environment with everything within close proximity to the college. Everything about the college seemed to fit nicely. After returning home from the trip, I did some more thinking, and finally decided that that college in Western New York was the path I would pursue.
My biggest concern once I arrived at that college was who my roommate would be. I always heard horror stories from graduates who said that their roommate was the roommate from hell; partying 24/7, was just plain mean, or practiced Satanism. The roommate I bunked with was named Sam; him and I would become very good friends. From the beginning, Sam and I got along very well; we stayed up late talking, entertaining other people from our wing, or just going to the mall to hang out. He was great to talk to, and we shared many happy moments.
After the first few weeks at the college, we met another resident named John, a highly outspoken individual with a downstate way of life; him too would become good friends with Sam and I. One day, I met John to play pool in the downstairs campus center. We did this not only to get to know each other some more, but also to have some fun and relax. It was at this time that he introduced me to a girl named Melissa. At first glance, you would wonder if I was crazy to date a woman like that, because she was overweight, and above all, a different ethnicity. No matter what people think, I always had this belief that beauty is skin deep and that it’s what’s on the inside that counts. Sure, Melissa might not have been the prettiest woman on campus, but she was kind, compassionate, and somebody whom I could trust; or at least I thought.
A few weeks after we met, we were going everywhere and doing everything together. It was after a while in the beginning of September, that we officially decided to call ourselves boyfriend and girlfriend. Now is the time for me to get a little personal, but it is essential to tell this in order to get a grasp as to why I made the critical decision to break things off with her. From the point we officially started our relationship in September to the time we ended the relationship in December, Melissa and I made out practically every day except during the weekends. I didn’t understand why we made out so often, but with me being a guy and making out with a woman almost daily was like a dream come true. By the end of our relationship, I realized why she was doing this; she wanted to have sex with me so she could get pregnant so she could own me.
From the beginning of our relationship, I made it quite clear to her that we were never to have sex unless we got married. It was a request that she stuck to, but it seemed like the deeper we got into our relationship, the closer we got to having intercourse. By the end of November, making out was getting very old, and it seemed that no matter what I said these sessions would continue, each time getting more intimate.
To make things even stranger, by the third month of our relationship, Melissa was beginning to talk about having children with me. She already determined how many she wanted and what she would call them. She told me immediately after that, that if I ever left her, she would do everything in her power to get back with me.
Another thing that raised a red flag in my mind was something she done during the peak of our relationship. Sam and I lived on the second floor of the residence hall at the college. On the first floor were the supply room and a small computer lab with a printer for the residents to work on. I needed to get some toilet paper for our dorm room and print something out on the computer. Melissa was in the dorm room with Sam and me, and she wouldn’t let me out of her sight. When she used our bathroom, I “escaped” the dorm room and quickly went downstairs to do my things.
I wasn’t gone for more than five minutes, but during that five minutes, she was tweaking out asking Sam where I was, and looking everywhere for me. She was so worked up she almost broke into a hyperventilating attack. It was from that moment that I knew I had to break things off before they got way out of hand for I knew she was not only possessive, but highly obsessive. I thought it would be a simple task; I didn’t realize how that simple task would test me like I never have been tested before.

These stories that are told on this blog are true. The names have been changed to protect the true identities of those individuals involved. If you would like to respond to this blog entry, please click on the envelope next to comments underneath this article. On the screen that appears, enter your name and your email address. Under "friend's email address" enter Senorgetman@yahoo.com. I will only accept emails under this fashion. DISCLAIMOR: THIS WEBSITE BY NO MEANS OFFERS LEGAL ADVICE TO VICTIMS OF STALKING AND DOMESTIC ABUSE. IF YOU ARE CURRENTLY A VICTIM OF STALKING AND/OR DOMESTIC ABUSE, PLEASE CONTACT YOUR LOCAL LAW ENFORCEMENT AGENCY IMMEDIATLEY.