I think my ex is deranged. I know that’s a stereotype everyone says about their exes. I’ve heard it from friends and acquaintances alike, but no one quite has my story.
At first, I thought I’d found the woman I’d spend the rest of my life with. I met Jessica on a dating app, another cliche maybe but how else do you meet someone nowadays? She had an amazing profile, mentioned she was a nurse, owned her own house, was close with her family, and even had a cute dog.
She might as well have been tailor-made to my desires. I messaged her after we matched and soon we were making plans to meet up.
The first couple of dates went amazing. Jessica was funny and an excellent conversationalist, and definitely wasn’t hard to look at if you know what I mean. But looking back even from the beginning there was something “off”.
Take our first date. She showed up exactly on time in a blue Ford Focus. Nothing flashy, just normal. At some point I think we started talking about cars so I brought up that I was a fan of the newest line of Buick’s and actually planned to get one when my current lease was over. Jessica exclaimed that she too loved that line and that she actually had two cars, one she drove in town and the other for longer distances. That wasn’t the weird thing though, rather it was that on the third date she showed up at the bowling alley driving a Buick with a vanity license plate reading ALIMONY. She had told me before that she’d never been married so naturally, I asked her. She laughed it off and said she had picked it out while drunk one night. Plausible, but I doubt it.
The next flag was when I first invited her back to my house. We had seen each other a couple of times at this point and things were progressing normally. We were sitting on my couch watching Netflix when she said she needed to use the bathroom. Natural. But then she was gone for a while and ended up getting up to see what she’d gotten up to.
Approaching the bathroom a called out “You okay in there?”
Abruptly I heard was sounded like a small curse and a sound like something was knocked into before she spoke up. “Of course, sorry! I’ll be out in a moment sweetie!” Then the sound of a flush and water running. Could have been normal and at the time I brushed it off, but now I distinctly remember everything looking “off”; like she’d ruffled through things.
Throughout our relationship that kind of thing would actually start to happen frequently. She’d go to another room for some reason, be gone a little longer than I was comfortable with, then come back and things would look “off”. But I never found anything taken or anything like that so I brushed it off as being paranoid.
Remember how I said she even had a cute dog? Yeah… that right there was the next flag. I’ve always loved dogs. I mentioned in my bio wanting to own one once I had a little more time and maybe a bigger place, so learning she owned a medium-sized mutt named Brutus should have been heaven. But then I went to her place for the first time and actually saw him.
Even now I feel bad thinking about that poor dog and no one can tell me I made him up.
The house was clean, spotless even, but she had a spot in the backyard where it was obvious she tied the dog up and left him. When I first met Brutus he was covered in fleas and ticks and had a ring around his neck with no fur as if he’d rubbed it raw trying to get off his chain. The poor thing was also skin and bones.
The first time I came over Jessica had him in the house and was hugging all over him, giving him kisses and the like. It was almost like she couldn’t see the shape he was in or was somehow ignoring it. When I didn’t immediately begin gushing over what a “sweet boy” he was she asked what the matter was and I told her, “He needs to see a vet, he looks sick.” Then I asked her “how long have you had him?” To which she vaguely replied, “I’ve always had him, isn’t he adorable?”
I didn’t know what to say. At the time I was still very much into her and here she was with an obviously abused dog. It made me mad. I tried gently suggesting I help her do a flea and tick treatment at the very least and she agreed saying, “I don’t think he needs it but if it makes you feel better we can do one tomorrow.” Uncomfortable with the situation I agreed and cut the night short.
The next day I sent her a text message asking her opinion on two different flea and tick treatments.
Jessica: fleas? Ticks? Why are you at the pet store?
Me: we said last night that I’d come over today and help you with giving Brutus a flea and tick treatment
Jessica: Brutus? What are you talking about?
Me: your dog? What do you mean “what am I talking about”?
Jessica: Are you feeling okay? I don’t have a dog.
Going back to her place there was no trace a dog had ever lived there. No dog chain backyard or holes dug. No food or bowls or even a stray flea or tick. I KNOW I didn’t make that dog up, but even going back to look at her profile pictures, the photo of her with Brutus was gone.
I wish that were the end of it but nope, she kept getting weirder.
I convinced myself she was just really embarrassed about how she had been treating Brutus so she gave him away. Weird but I could almost understand. The photos that showed up in her house after meeting my family though… were unsettling.
We had been dating for about two months when I invited her to come to my dad’s birthday party. My entire family was going to be there, my parents, his parents, my uncles and their families. Before meeting them we’d spoken about our families a little so I knew that she had her parents and one younger sister. She didn’t have any photos of them up in her house though. I mean, that’s not weird, I don’t either, but after the party where she met everyone and saw the family photos all over my parents’ house, several showed up. But they didn’t look right. The people in the photos didn’t look anything like her and they almost looked like they were photoshopped.
I didn’t confront her at the time about it and things settled down to an almost “normal”. There were a few things here and there like a female coworker I was friends with asking why I never responded to her message asking if I was to the BBQ Janet, another coworker, and her husband were throwing. I never got the message but she showed me she had sent it. Or finding out a friend I mentioned didn’t want to come over when she was over later had messages sent to his girlfriend saying he was cheating on her.
Little things here and there.
The end though came when I finally met her parents. Or who she said were her parents, I don’t know anymore.
By this point, we had been dating five months so I brought up why I hadn’t met them yet. She was always talking about them and she’d met mine, shouldn’t I meet her family? Plus I was still curious about the odd photos she’d added.
The day rolled around when we met and immediately I was uneasy. First, they didn’t look anything like the photos. Second, she’d mentioned her younger sister before as a couple years younger but the girl at the house with her “parents” was no more than ten.
When we went into the house the couple she said were her parents also didn’t look old enough. Maybe 15 years older than we were at most. There were no photos of my girlfriend anywhere in the house but several of her “parents” and “Amanda”, her sister.
She also wouldn’t leave me alone for even a moment the entire time we were there, even following me to the bathroom. During the dinner, the conversation on her family’s side was very stilted with everyone looking at Jessica out of the corner of their eyes with a terrified expression on their faces. None of them ate more than a bite or two. Then, once she was finished eating they immediately asked if it was time for us to leave yet because they had a busy day tomorrow. Her “mom” stuttered as she asked if we were leaving. Uncomfortable with the evening I agreed and we left.
That night I’d had enough and broke up with her. She seemed to take it almost too well.
Nervously I’d started pacing once we got back to my place. Having made up my mind I just spit it out. “Jessica, I’m going to be honest; something is going on with you that you’re hiding from me. I don’t know why you’re trying to convince me that was your family but it was obvious it wasn’t. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t. I’m sorry but I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
When I stopped, my heart was beating in my throat and I couldn’t look at her.
“Oh,” was all she said at first. Then “you’re right. I’ve tried and tried for you but it’s just not going to work. You keep accusing me of really weird things and well, you need help. Of course, those were my parents, what do you think, that I forced a random family to pretend to know me? That’s crazy and well, I deserve better.”
Then she left and I let out a sigh of relief. I was finally going to have my life back.
The next day my tires were slashed while I was at work. I park in a garage so there should have been a video. When I brought over security and they went back to look at the tapes they came back telling me the recording jumped from 1:36pm to 2:23pm.
I wish it ended there.
Three days later I was called into my boss’s office, HR was there and together they presented me with a series of social media posts I had apparently made over the last several years. I won’t repeat it here but they were filled with racist and sexist declarations. I swore I never wrote any of it but they had “proof” in black and white. Apparently, they had already gotten several emails and phone calls about the posts, asking them if they had any official comments. I was fired on the spot.
Leaving the office after being escorted out I received a text message from an unknown number:
Unknown Number: Miss me yet?
I immediately blocked the number but each day, twice a day since I have begun receiving the same message. I’ve tried sending a message back occasionally asking them to stop but each time an error comes back saying my message could not be sent and asking if I wanted to try again.
And it just kept getting worse.
One day, I came home and found photo frames hung on my walls. Photos I hadn’t hung of me with my exes. Each frame hung upside down on the wall with an “X” drawn over my face.
Then came candid shots of my exes more recently taken. And photos of my family. All upside-down.
And it wasn’t just centered on me. I started receiving calls and texts and emails from friends and some of my exes saying a female, it had to be Jessica, had contacted them all asking for them to come forward if I had ever hit them too, abused them too.
I have NEVER abused anyone. I know it and they know it. I hope.
I’ve tried contacting the authorities a couple times but there is never anything to show them. The evidence either disappears or makes it look like I’m the one guilty. Take the time I was in the bathroom at Target. While I was in the stall I heard a crash and then a sound like something had shattered. When I was done with my business I exited the stall and saw the mirrors all smashed with red lipstick kisses on each of the corners. Rushing out I flagged someone down to come look. When we returned sure enough the mirrors were smashed but there was not a single red lipstick smudge, let alone a full kiss mark. Then, looking at the security tape no one was seen entering or exiting but myself. They called the police on ME.
This past week though has been the worst. It’s what has me fearing for my life. On Thursday my mom called to tell me my dad was in the hospital. He’d been leaving the office with the rest of his coworkers in a large group when he fell down a flight of stairs. When he woke up he said it felt like he’d been pushed but again, no one saw anything suspicious. It could have been an accident but that right before my mom called me I received a text reading “Oops” and a photo of my dad walking into work that morning.
The latest thing though, the thing that had me coming here for help and advice, well it’s what I found when I opened my door this morning. There, on my doorstep was a mostly decomposed body of a dog with a collar tag reading BRUTUS, and dirt-covered bones laying on top of a crudely drawn-on rock that read Here Lies Mr. Smiggles Best Cat Ever.
Mr. Smiggles was my childhood cat that died of old age when I was 16. I don’t remember ever telling Jessica about him so I was quite freaked out and again called the police. Just like all the times before though, by the time the cops showed up, all evidence had vanished.
As a last-ditch effort, once the cops left I drove to the house she’d once taken me to. Figuring I’d get some sort of answer out of her “parents”. I don’t even know why I was surprised to find the place empty. A car was in the driveway but no one answered the door. Peeking in the windows I saw the refrigerator door open and what looked like glass shattered on the floor. I didn’t dare try to go inside and certainly didn’t call the police a second time today.
I’m not afraid to admit I’m scared guys. She’s nuts and I don’t know what she’s going to do next. You believe me, right? Can you help?