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About The Clackamas print. (Oregon City, Oregon) 1989-2019 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 12, 1991)
OPINION February 12,1992 THE CLACKAMAS PRINT Page 5 Emotional abuse becomes a living nightmare When I was first asked to write about my experience, I was, to say the least, apprehensive. To this day I still watch behind the bushes in my yard when I come home at night, wondering if he’s waiting for me. Who is he? He’s an ex-boy friend front high school, I’ll call him 'Jim.' I met Jim when I was a senior. I was attracted to him because he had a great personality, was outgo ing, and at the same time was very kind and considerate. For the first three or four months that we went out we had nothing but good times. We had the same interests and spent weekends to gether camping, going to the beach, partying, he even showed me how to hook up a new stereo system in my car. He would do anything for me, and I would do the same for him. He confided in me when he had problems in school or at home, which was quite often, and I was always able to help him through it. First I must insert that I was drinking far too much all of the time that we went out because he is an alcoholic and was always drink ing. At the time I thought it was for fun, but now I realize that it was an escape from all of those problems he had at home. After I graduated, we spent a great summer together up until about August. Jim was a year younger than me, so he began preparation for his senior year at the end of that summer. He played football, and went to all of the parties with the football players, during which I of course had to work. He started hanging out with other girls during the school days and began comparing me to them. 'Pnbd Editor-in-chief: Heidi A. Hoffman News Editor: Jennifer Leesard He would tell me how great they were and how much fun they were to be with. I understood that he should have female friends, so I was never jealous. I used to tell him how happy I was for him to have good friends. But, when he con stantly described them as better and more fun than me, I started to change to make him happy. When we were around other people he seemed to be proud of me, but then when we were alone he would tell me that I needed to lose weight, get in shape, dress different, and be more outgoing. After tearing me apart, though, he would turn right around and tell me that he never wanted to lose me. When I began college here two years ago, I also started a new job, working late hours through about midnight and 1 alm. He became possessive and began to accuse me of spending time with other guys - since I was so late from work every night. That was all a simple game / can 7 have you no one can!' of projection, though, since he was spending so much time with other girls, I found out later. Since he didn't trust me he demanded all of my spare time. After school every day, I wou Id go straight to h is house to spend that time with him until I had to go to work. When I got home I called him to let him know I was okay. Now I believe he wanted me to call so he would know where I was. We spent a lot of evenings at the park. I remember him telling me one night that I would never find anyone like him again and that he was the only one that would ever love me. At first I thought that was special, but then I realized what he was saying. I remember getting very angry and yelling at him not to ever say that because there were many people who enjoyed my company. Then he began to tell me how touch he loved me and that he couldn’t live without me. He made me feel very special when it was conven ient for him. My best friend, who knew him well, always tried to tell me to forget about him. I wanted to de fend him to her, though, telling her that he wasn’t the same crazy guy that everyone saw when we were alone. My father was also trying to open my eyes after seeing me cry on the phone every other night. I should have seen what was hap pening sooner, since my sister had a relationship that was almost iden tical. But I always wanted to give Jim the benefit of the doubt and give him another chance. I tried to justify his behavior by his family trouble. After a while, though, I could see him treating his mom very aggressively and I saw him and his father verbally lashing out at one another also. One night I went to Jim's best friend, 'Bill's' house with him to meet Bill and his girlfriend. Bill also drank a lot and that night he was drunk. Bill and his girlfriend began to fight and suddenly Bill picked up a knife and went after his girlfriend. Jim and I sat staring in amazement. Finally, I yelled at Jim to help her. Jim grabbed Bill ar ’ started pounding on his face. Thi was a horrible sight for me; ’ had never seen blood except my own before in my life. And there was my boyfriend beating th*' heU out of his own best friend. Violent? I was certainly glad that Jim was there to help Bill’s girlfriend, but Jim ended up breaking Bill's nose. Jim was twice as big as Bill and no punching was necessary to control Bill's behavior, but Jim seemed to be having a great time. Afterward, Jim asked me and Bill’s girlfriend to clean up the mess (blood all over the walls and carpet) while he went outside to talk to Bill. Days later, Jim would still talk about how neat it was that he could break some one's nose if he ever needed to. At this point, I began to believe my father and best friend. After a couple more weeks of of living through the cycle of Jim telling me that I should change but that he couldn’t live without me and then going to parties with other girls, I decided to break up with him. I was just going to get on with Features Editor: Nolan Kidwell Sports Editor: Lane Scheldeman Photo Editor: David VanKeuren Copy Editor: Frank Jordan Business Manager: Brenda.Hodgen Boring Burgers ? Tiresome Tacos? Staff Writers: Heidi Branetator, Melissa Freele, Maurice Glenn, Daphne Hartt, Robert A. Hibberd, Tracy Hobbs, Ginger Land, Scott Morris, Kevin Shields, Greg Tully. Photographers: Vivian Johnson, Kyle Moe, Allan Zlemke. Production Assistant: Tobbl Ireland Advisor: Linda Vogt 77>e Clackamas Print alms to be a fair and Impartial newspaper covering the college community. Opinions expressed In The Clackamas Print do not necessarily re flect those of the college administration, faculty, or advertisers. The Clackamas Print Is a weekly publication distributed every Wednesday except for finals week. The open advertising rate Is $3.75 per column Inch. Clackamas Community Col lege 19600 S Molalla Avenue, Oregon City, Oregon;97045. Trailer B. Telephone: 657-6955, ext. 2309 (office), ext. 2577 (advertising), ext 2575 (production). \> 59<? I 79C / 99C Three selectionsavailableaieach price! Try Our New Value Lunch! my life. I always told myself that I had lived 17 years without him just as happy as can be and that I could live the rest of my life the same way, even if there never would be anyone else who loved me like he did. So I told him it was over. This was really just the beginning. He continued to come back telling me that he would change. I told him that was what he always said and that I would give him one more chance and if he hadn’t changed then it was over. He agreed. About a month went by. "That person... will never change! ' His cousins were having a Christmas party so we went over with a different friend of his, 'Greg,' and partied for the evening. On the way home, Jim was drunk and driv ing crazy. I asked him to please slow down; he got mad at me. He stopped the car and I tried to get out. He grabbed my arm and wouldn’t let me go. Amongst all •he screaming he began moving the tr a ’ain while I was halfway on street. He was driving about 10 mph as my foot was dragging across thè ground. I said “Let me go” one last time and he said “Fine, bitch, f__ . off’ as he shoved me out of the car. I rolled into the ditch scared as hell but actually happy that I was free. I heard his squealing tires as he took off and yelled some more foul language. I just got up and started to run. I was afraid for my life and all I wanted was to get home before he got to me. All of a sudden someone came barrelling though the brush I was in, grabbed me and stopped me. It was Greg, who had been in the back seat during the entire conflict. He asked me if I was okay and just hugged me as I cried. Weeks after that incident Jim continued to ask me back. Every time he came over I acted nice, so not to piss him off. But whenever I was even civil to him he took it as me wanting to get back together. I 1 old him repeatedly that it was over. [ began seeing someone else about three months later. He found this out and began prank calling my house telling my mom he would kill her. He told me time and time again the same line that is in the movie “Sleeping with the Enemy”; “If I can’t have you, no one can!" Literally death threats! ’ You can imagine the night mares! The police became involved because they were aware of the re lationship between Jim and I and the difficulties I had been having. I had called them on several occa sions, one in particular when he had a shotgun in his mouth and was threatening suicide. At one point he had kicked in our front door when it was shut in his face because I refused to see him. And he was already in trouble with the law with MIPs and so on. The last straw came one night when I was returning home from a late night out. I had given Jim a teddy bear for Christmas. As I drove into my driveway I saw something hanging from the lamp over my garage. It was the teddy bear slung by a rope with a slit neck and red blood-like substance poured over it. I didn ’ t even get out of my car. I immediately went back to my new boyfriend’s house, called the police and my mother. The police took the bear for evidence. The very next time Jim was on my property we had him arrested. We had our phone number changed. I have heard from him twice since then. Both times though in passing and nothing, thank God, escalated from them. I remember how easily attracted I was to him and I find it upsetting to know that a person like myself and many others don’t have any idea what they are truly entering into until it is too late. He made me feel so low at times that once I was , finally free of him I was shy and afraid to even talk to other people. I thought that they might see all the faults in me that he had made me so familiar with. The world seemed like an evil place. Now, though, I'm not alone, and I've learned that there is some one else who will and does love me. I just want to let others who may be experiencing those minor stabs to their heart and ego know that it doesn’t get better. That per son, male or female, will never change! Do yourself a favor, no matter how hard it may be, if you áre in a relationship with someone who is not treating you kindly, even if it’s just mentally or emotionally, get out! We all have a hard enough time keeping a high esteem with out someone constantly tearing us apart. Abuse begins with emotional degradation and simply escalates into a more violent picture. I be lieve my story is a prime example. No matter how much you care about or love that person, please remem ber: First love yourself.
