Images 57

Headfuckery Returns....

  • By girly-d
  • On 04/10/2017

M is here.

Fuck. He's here. He's right in front of me. And he's saying my name.

Shit fuck and bollocks. This is bad. No. This is beyond bad.

I'm frantically typing an SOS while the man who gave me nightmares is stood less than a foot away from me. My skin is crawling and the hairs on my neck stand on end. 

He's asking me if I want to talk.


So not only is he stood just inches away, he's delusional and stood inches away. I swear I can't believe this guy. No I don't want to talk. I just want to be a million miles away and not be having this happen.

I say No.

I'm assertive. 

I carry on with my typing. I refuse to look up from my phone.  I don't want to have to  look at him for a second longer than I need to. Its not as though I've forgotten his face....

I don't like this.  One bit.  My adrenaline is going through the roof. I don't like the fact that he knows what I look like now. It's been a year since I left  him. When I was a  skeletal emotional wreck.

A lot has happened in a year. I've changed my hair. The colour, the style. I've got my curves back. I look like me again. But 100% better now that he hasn't been able to mess with my head. I'm looking good. Positive, happy. All of the things that he would never let me be. He can see it too.

I can feel his eyes boring through me as he's drinking me in. I know exactly what he's thinking about how I'm looking now.  I want to vomit. 

Theres no way that this is happening. I'm not letting him anywear near me. He never gets to touch me ever again. Not even accidentally.  It's daylight. On a busy street. There are people around if I need them and I'm not the shell-shocked timid mouse he's used to seeing. I'll scream if i need to.

He must have an appointment. He hasn't said as much  but I know that thats the case. Its not hard to know where he is going. The office is up the road from where we are both standing. A black mark against him if he doesn't go. And he has appearances to keep up.  Such a nice guy. Reliable. Trustworthy. Salt of the earth. He doesn't tell many people that he gets his kicks from terrorising and abusing women. He keeps that little nugget of information quiet -  otherwise it would spoil the surprise.  If you are taken in like I was and happen to go out with him.

When it becomes apparant that I'm not going to play ball and indulge in conversation, thankfully he walks off and I dart into a nearby pub before he changes his mind and comes back.

I contemplate telling the staff in case he does decide to follow me in,  but its quiet and I know that there are cameras so I decide against it. Instead I take a seat,  cradle my drink and wait for my hands to stop shaking. 

I've planned for this. Over and over and over. I had a drill. What to do in case of emergency. I seriously need to re-evaluate that because I didn't do any of it. My panic alarm stayed in my bag with the pin in it and my phone safety app wasn't activated. I was too busy panicking to be rational.

Ok. I just need to breathe. But it's hard. I feel him all around me now. Every tiny movement is making me twitchy and nervous. Breathe, breathe breathe and then I'll be fine.

I start to message people. He's bound to start putting feelers out. I need to warn them. Although luckily my friends won't be telling him shit. They know what he's like. They saw what he did to me. I give them the heads up anyway.

I wasnt wearing a jacket when he saw me today.  I had sandals on my feet.  The weather is changeable. It could rain at any time. So he'll think I live nearby. In case I need to change. He doesnt know that my converse are in my bag. Along with my coat. A throwback from my go-go gadget bag days when I kept everything packed  for those times that I needed to run. And  also I try to make sure that  I can ring the changes if i think that someones recognised me and can tell him what im wearing....just in case he happens to be in town. Like he was today. Call me paranoid but it doesn't hurt to be prepared.

So anyway. Thats my peace of mind fucked again then M. Thanks for that. Headfuckery all over again thanks to our little encounter.

On the plus side, Good luck hunting me down here. I know that you'll try. You've never really stopped....My friends are on the lookout. They tell me if you've been asking questions. But I don't live here anymore. I left months ago. And I didn't tell a soul where I was going.

I've moved around a lot in 12 months. It's hard to pin me down.  My friends have already closed ranks around me and there are no tracks to find apart from all of the red herrings that I drop and you keep choosing to follow.

Still, Thanks for dropping by. It's  been emotional, but hopefully our paths won't be crossing again. Because if they do I'm calling the police. It's here M.  In writing for you. You can put it on facebook if you like. You used to love facebook. It's where you used to tell anyone who would listen what a shit girlfriend I was, and how lucky I was to have you.  I didn't feel lucky at the time. Especially when you were dragging me upstairs by my neck. You'd probably say that I was being ungrateful.  But I don't actually give a fuck what you think or say anymore.  Because right now I am lucky.

Because I got away from you. And I have absolutely no desire at all to go back.  



  • Abbie .Wirick
    I met a woman yesterday who could have easily been you. I shared my story of abuse from a sociopathic narcissist. You're handling it well, from what you've written.
    The mental checklist (moving, changed look, friends) is perfect!
    From one Overcomer to another, God's got our backs. We do the footwork and He does the rest.
    Anyways, your courage is commendable.