Quixotic's Story (in answer to SECM1968)

All right, this may be a bit long and I have no idea if my story actually offers any solution or advice.

I appreciate your predicament on so many levels:
1) Last ex-N works in the same industry as me. I have to interact with his website on behalf of my clients. It was difficult for the first 6 mos but now is tolerable. I do only what I must and avoid reading anything that smacks of personal. Industry related sure, but that doesn't cause a spin. We don't speak or communicate but the threat of running into him is ever-present. I avoid places he is likely to go. That means sacrificing events I would enjoy or professional opportunities but I'm expanding in other areas. Will I see him someday? Probably unless the ground swallows him whole but it would probably just spit him back up again.

2) A former ex-N lived literally one floor and apartment over from mine. We knew each other from high school. He had moved to LA but couldn't get a place of his own. One opened up in my building and I helped him get it through the managers. Big, huge, colossal mistake! Of course, it wasn't any time before we went from platonic to romantic. He didn't have a job yet, he didn't have a reliable car and he didn't have to do much of anything because...it was all Shake n Bake.

I told him at the outset if we were to get involved and it didn't work out we'd have to either a) remain friendly or b) HE'D be the one to move out as I had already lived at my place for a couple of years (rent controlled) and no way should I relocate as I was the one who helped him.

Of course, he agreed to this. Of course, 2 years later I was miserable as he refused to work, mooched on me while I put myself through college and ruined my perfect credit in the process. No one held a gun to my head all the times I bought groceries or necessities. He never took me out so if we did anything beyond the complex (can count on one hand) it was me footing the bill. It started small but increased over time as these things have a tendency to do. Sigh.

I told him that I wasn't unhappy and wanted to end the relationship. He was very manipulative. He was very pouty. He was 30 years old and had the entitlement and expectation that I should take care of his lazy ass indefinitely in exchange for his, I kid you not, "emotional support." As to the debt I now owed and couldn't pay, he said if I married him then his parents would pay it off as a wedding present. Excuse me, but huh? I told him to go F-- himself.

The first couple of weeks were rough. We waffled a tad but then his father was diagnosed with cancer and my parents hooked his dad up with Loma Linda (the best of the best). Weird, they never received a thank you or a phone call. The now ex-N asked me to "pretend" we were still together as his father didn't know we had broken up and he was stressed enough as it was. Found that hard to believe but like a stupid dooby I played charades. After a couple of weeks his father figured out it was a ruse and pulled me aside and told me that he knew we were over and I didn't have to pretend any more. I stopped right there and then. Went NC.

Nobody need lecture me on NC as I did this all on my lonesome and lived with it a stone's throw from my front door. NC? Yeah, it's hard but when it's inside your own home? That's a whole other bag of monkeys and bananas. I didn't even know what NC was...just did it because the ex-N was intolerable and mean. Over what? Not being able to use me anymore. I didn't talk to him to heal, hurt him, or clear my head. I did it for my own self-respect, dignity and because I knew then that silence says more than anything else. What was I going to do? Cry? Plead? He was unwilling to contribute so I was unwilling to have contact. Simple as.

I'll admit, in retrospect there may have been a little bit of testing him on my part. If he loved me and truly wanted a life with me, he'd get a job. Not a six-figure job. He'd go to school. He'd do something to show me that he was a mature, responsible man capable of taking care of himself. He'd want to provide his share and support beyond "emotional" and at 30 years of age...is this really that steep of a frickin hill to climb? Where was his self-respect? His pride?

Months go by. My friends and family were anxious as to when he would pack up and go. He wasn't working so clearly his parents were supporting him but the rent ain't cheap so I figured he was biding his time and sorting out his stuff.

I went to school. Tried mightily to pay off the debt. Never did and had to walk away from it but was hounded for years from collectors so any man who bitches to me about alimony can stick it. I paid dearly and still do for that bum.

More time slides by. I see him constantly. Getting the mail, going to my car (parked literally in front of his front door and management refused to move me), heard his coming and goings as he heard mine. Fun times. Enough to drive a person crazy. Remained NC. Wondered when the heck was he getting out of here??? How long could we hold the stalemate? I was determined not to move. I loved my place which is a wonderful location and is a big apartment. It wasn't fair to me and...now that my credit was in the toilet I couldn't besides nor could afford a place because the rents were almost double to what I was paying. I had 2 years left of college. I was stuck.

He'll leave eventually, I thought. That got me through the first year. Then the second year came around and I heard through neighbors that he started working (part-time) at a local restaurant. At least he's working but I was bummed as I thought that's what's keeping the roof over his head. Damnit all to hell! Fine. I managed to keep my head down, study, focus on me and try not to pay one iota of attention to him. I kept reassuring myself, "He'll leave. His pride will force him to or a situation will happen or, or, or..."

One day after 2 years have passed, I'm throwing out my garbage (located right underneath his apartment at the end of the building) when a cute young woman passes nearby. As I'm friendly with my neighbors and their visitors, my face brightened and I said, "Hi!" She gave me a look to kill. I was bewildered by her immediate response (curled lip, etc.)

I begin to walk up the staircase to my apartment when I see her unlock and enter my ex’s apartment. It hit me like a Mack truck. She was a gf and had a key. It wasn't long before I realized she was living with him and not soon after he "lost" his job. Suddenly, my situation looked very bleak. I didn't care that he had a gf, but now he had a hook for staying in my complex. Surely, she'd want to leave, I mean after all how weird is it to live in the same complex so close to an ex who clearly will have zero contact with your new man. Isn't that a red flag?

Stupidly, I even prepared myself for the day she'd approach me and ask questions. It seemed likely and probable. I had prepared a fair script so I wouldn't be caught off guard. I wouldn’t lambaste him, just state the obvious. I continued to ignore, survive under these conditions and pray that soon she'd get the two of them out of there.

Year 3 ticks by. It occurred to me in year 4 that it was painfully obvious they weren't moving out. This was 2008. The big recession. Rents inflated. I lost my job and had a difficult time finding work. I wanted so badly to move now.

You see, even though I was NC, I was ever aware of their presence just as they were of mine. Weirder still, were the times I would park my car and it was obvious their blinds moved to view me crossing the complex. It got so that I forced myself to keep my head down so I wouldn't observe being observed. My mail (packages) left in the communal area started disappearing. I had to FedEx anything important or send packages to friend's homes. I'm sure he began stealing my stuff as I saw her wearing one of my missing items months (maybe a year) later. Coincidence? I think not. My laundry got messed up anytime the ex was home (which was all the time since he didn't work). I had to sneak around and wait for the ex to leave in order to ensure nothing happened to my clothes.

The managers said they couldn't do anything unless I caught him in the act via video or someone witnessed it. Post office said more or less the same thing. I lived in prison.

And the worst part was convincing my managers and neighbors who I begged to try to keep an eye on my stuff that he was doing this (I don't think she did but who knows). They just couldn't believe such a quiet, shy guy was capable of such things. Somehow, I was the one making a to-do over nothing.

That was the most hurtful part. Even those who believed me never really did anything to help. Frankly, I think people were amused. It was like a sick soap opera playing in their backyard. Never mind what it was doing to me in the process or the injustice of it all. I had one neighbor actually say to me, "Well, I guess you should've stayed with him."

This was my reality. I lived it every single day and as I worked from home the majority of the time, this compounded the problem. I told myself I didn't care and I didn’t as far as a future together, but for my well-being, yes I did, but not enough to budge. What a terrible mistake.

Year 4. Oh yes, the hits just keep on coming. By this time I accepted the situation and tried to make peace with it. I convinced myself that I was immune. Had I really dated much in all this time? No. A little but I had trust issues...gee...wonder why? Of course, this year is when I actually did have a relationship that threw me over the edge of my mental/emotional cliff but that's another story.

Back to the 4th year in the stir. I ran into him and her from time to time. Neither one of us ever spoke. Awkward much? I felt sorry for her. Wondered what she saw in him? What did I see? He had the benefit of familiarity. He represented a link to my past, but other than that, not much.

I kept thinking one day she'll see the light as I did. He had plans for me doncha y'know. I was to graduate college (he didn't finish h.s. as I later found out) then get my MA in Theatre and teach locally WHILE obtaining either my MFA or PhD so I could be a professor. Oh, and publish my fiction and be a critic and take care of him meanwhile.

One day I'm coming home down our busy city street just as they (in her car because his was a jalopy but a Porsche he'd defend from like 1980) are pulling out of our driveway. I have to make a left hand turn against traffic to get in. Thankfully they are not in my way. However, there was a Mayflower moving truck taking up my side of the street before our entrance. I allowed room and went to the turn lane but I noticed that I was blocked by another vehicle from view just when this jerkoff goes tearing down the street and not seeing me to avoid the moving van swerves hard going 50mph (at least) and screeches behind me. I closed my eyes and braced for impact. By a miracle I still can't understand he barely missed me. Had he hit me the crash would have been severe and I would've been hurt as I had a little two-door coupe. The impact also would've pushed me into oncoming traffic. I would've been nailed front and back most definitely. I couldn't believe how close I came to serious injury.

And as I gazed around, I saw my ex and his gf laughing hysterically (and I do mean cackling hysterically). I will never forget seeing their faces till the day I die. Who could do that? Had I been struck, would they have laughed? Probably not, but based on their reaction which was instant, I think they would've just turned and left the scene. And I remember gazing at them in horror. Her especially because I never did anything to that woman, not one damn thing. Never did anything to the ex either but him, fine, he's an ass. How could she delight in my almost being creamed like a pancake? She was laughing the most of all. So never feel for these OWs. They are either birds of a feather so the two deserve each other as in my case, so deluded that they think of YOU as competition or a threat, or are so deluded that he is a wonderful man. Let them live in delusional land. I have very little sympathy for the OW.

I got it then. I understood my predicament too late. She wasn't like me, a woman who would not tolerate living like that so close to the ex-gf. She was not like me who would've had to out of sheer curiosity or just to hear the other side of things introduced myself to the ex-gf and have a private discussion if for nothing else to clear the air. Nope, this OW was as bad as my Ex. Maybe worse.

Fuck her. It was at this point that I realized how toxic an environment I was living in, partly due to circumstances, partly due to my disbelief then the dawning that he wasn't going to leave maybe ever? I had a sense that were I to move, it wouldn't be any time before he/they did too.

It was open defiance. On both their parts. And when you live in such close proximity to people who laugh when they clearly can see you're in an imminent danger...yeah, I think a part of your trust and faith in people goes by the wayside. I lived in a cloud of bad juju. It was as if I could pick up psychically his hate as year after year it became more and more suffocating. I was drowning and when I tried to convey what I was living through, people didn't really get the gravity of the situation. It was this funny story, an anecdote and here I was knee-deep in it.

I went into a zombie mode by year 5. My Mom and I tried to scout out an apartment for me in the relative area. They were just way more than I could afford. I was mid-30s and no one wanted a roommate (to be fair let alone me either). At this point, I figured I had lived in this situation long enough that I could keep on trucking even though by now I was in a clinical state of depression. Still, there was no reprieve.

This was my personal house of horrors. I noticed the OW was consistently going somewhere throughout the week and I chalked it up to her having a day job. No biggie until I heard tell from a neighbor that she was getting her MA from...my alma mater and in the same exact program.

Seriously? It was around the half way point in year 5 that I began to sense someone outside my front door late at night. At first, I thought I was crazy. I didn't even think of him as being the one lingering around my door. It was too crazy and besides he had the gf and all. But I began to notice a funny pattern to the times and dates, etc. I heard very soft footfalls near my garden. Mind you, I had never heard these sounds before. Then one night, I heard the footfalls again and then the sound of someone bumping into one of my potted plants. Then there was the soft thud thud of someone scrambling down the stairs. Their front door had a distinctive creak. I heard it. I couldn't accept what was happening. It was a long time after that incident before he crept around my place. I never tried to entrap him. I didn't weirdly enough want to catch him in the act because I didn't know how he'd react. I was scared and in shock.

Year 6. Mind you my mail keeps being lifted, my laundry messed up, thankfully no damage to my car which I worried over but as it is surrounded by everyone else may have been too risky for him to do anything sneaky. I kept a close watch for thumb tacks and nails just to be sure.

Gf gets her MA and begins teaching way the heck out in Timbuktu at a charter high school. He still isn't working. I have simply accepted my reality as it is, the occasional midnight stalking (what was he gaining as he couldn't see anything) and all the rest. I had my first gallery show. Got my career slowly off the ground. This was my corner of hell and somehow I managed to live well within it. No therapy. No help from anyone. Sorry, but looking back on what I endured I resent the hell out of that and it wasn't like I didn't ask for advice or assistance. I let people know how terrible it was for me and no one really took it all that serious. I guess because I stayed, but damn if I could have any one of those people walk in my shoes during that whole time, I would like to think someone would've intervened on my behalf. That went a long way to demoralize me. No one bothered to sympathize.

Sadly, that's the way this shit goes. It's not fair. It's not right and when people don't stop and try to put themselves in someone's position and really think...gee...how would this make me feel 365 days a year, then it goes on and on and on until I was numb to it all.

Numb is how I subsisted. I just sort of dazed in and out of this cloudy haze. At this point, it was like a sick joke. I did the "right" thing by ending it with a controlling loser/user but boy was I punished for it. I earned it and I know he was punishing me. Suddenly, his promise he made to me at the very start didn't mean a thing just to get back at me for his laziness. I refused to be a victim and slink out of there. Now it was a "whose going to blink first." This was my home and I wasn't about to lie down after everything I had already gone through.

Only after the gf had secured a year of teaching under her belt did my ex marry her. It was so obvious as to be laughable. They had a very simple ceremony without friends or family (from what I heard...who knows). I found about their marriage when I got up to make coffee in the morning (it was a weekend) and looked out my window. I saw a woman in a wedding dress get inside a green car...OMG that's the gf...that's the ex (in a bad suit)! I didn't spin...seriously are you kidding me? Spinning would be great compared to the shell I had evolved into overtime.

It wasn't planned or purposeful that I saw them. Frankly, I didn't really care except I wondered...will they ever leave? Does this mean maybe my parole hearing is coming up? Will I be free?

School session started again. Same old, same old and he’s still not doing squat. She works, pays the bills and he plays video games. Seriously. What a booby prize she got. Guess emotional support meant more to her than it did me.

I continued to work and look the other way. The stalking decreased after they married much to my relief. About 6 mos into their marriage though I almost fell over when I saw her collecting their mail. God I should've said something...I jumped back and yelped in genuine surprise.

The new wife...OW? Had dyed her hair the same shade as mine. Was now wearing glasses of the same style, color and frame and was wearing all black much like I did from my NYC days. How do you NOT react? I stood back and let her pass marveling at the transformation. I dyed my hair blond and tossed most of my black clothes. I wear bright colors now. I did keep the glasses, I mean can't I have something that is mine? And there is no way this woman didn't see it too.

She must've found one hell of a justification because I can't wrap my head around it to this day. I even tried to convince myself that I was seeing things (even though I audibly cried out in surprise). A couple of months later I saw her at the local corner market as I was pulling into the parking lot. I observed her from afar. There was no mistaking the badly executed facsimile. She was impersonating me in a strange way and literally living the life my ex wanted me to follow. Down to everything.

I had to get out! The line and boundaries from odd, strange, weird, troublesome, concerning, to downright alarming had truly and well been crossed over and trounced on. Exactly what the hell was I doing living in this misery? I made up my mind that I was going to find a place ASAP. I had to save money for a deposit but I began actively searching. I begged God to throw me a bone. I prayed and searched and tried to find a suitable (even if not totally affordable) apartment for me to rent. It was minimally going to cost me at least $500 more a month and in some case closer to $800. That was the painful reality.

Amid my searching and feeling desperate, like the caged animal I finally realized I actually was, life got in the way in various and sundry ways. I was derailed and by this point, I don't think I still to this day appreciate my mental instability during this time. I didn't drink. I didn't do anything stupid. I was in quicksand and every time I flailed around a little bit, I sunk down deeper.

A sort of apathy took hold. I gave up. I lived in perpetual suspension...when would they....when, when, when...? I felt hate radiating like heat waves off of tarmac coming from his place. CD? This was an energy cloud I functioned in for 7 years folks. CD sucks, ain't no doubt but looking back on those 7 years, I might as well have just been buried alive or cocooned in a web of spite and bald faced resentment.

Just as it was beginning to look like I would have enough money to move out, I came home on October 10, 2010. I parked my car. Remember, I refused to ever even so much as glance up in their general direction because the blinds had always moved before and I didn't want to confirm they still did. (Occasionally, I would glance up because another car drove by or something and even years later I'd spy the blinds move just a sliver to accommodate a peephole and if I ever doubted it [lord how many times did I tell myself "It's just your imagination...I mean surely not...not after all this time...etc"] depending on the time of day I could see the silhouette of a person from behind the blinds.

For some reason I cannot explain, I stopped and glanced straight up at their place. It was unconsciously motivated and surprised me when I saw the apartment was pitch dark. Okay, they’re not home. Not typical. They rarely went out but something gnawed at me. I went up my stairwell separate from his and went inside. The way it was so dark disturbed me. It was too dark. His car was still squatting in his parking spot. I dismissed any hope but an hour later took a bag of garbage to the dumpster and stared up from behind their place.

It just appeared too different. I took his stairwell up and stopped at his front door, terrified that at any moment they might come around and catch me (ironic right) snooping. I peered through the blinds as best I could but it was just impossible to see. A crazy impulse took over me, and I turned the door knob. It was unlocked. I entered the space and through the light of the outdoor lamp saw that it was empty. EMPTY! I ran through every room. I hit the kitchen light. Mind you, I had spent 2 years in this place when what seemed like a lifetime ago. I cried. I wept. I sunk down and kissed the dirty cat-haired carpet. They were gone! I didn't care where. I didn't care why. I was free!!

Later, I found out through the managers that she had become pregnant and her parents bought them a house close to where she worked. Her parents planned to stay there in the winter months as they lived in Illinois. His car? Didn't run. It took a month before finally he had it towed one night. I stood outside and watched with open glee. I'm sure he saw me. Didn't care. Had he dropped dead right then and there I would've grabbed my tap shoes and tapped all over his corpse Bob Fosse style. I watched the car being towed and him following after it. My life began again on that day.

Has it been a happy, glorious journey since then? Sadly, no. I'm starting to come to terms with the fact that these years did incredible damage to me. More than I realized at the time. More than I think my parents realized or my friends who saw a huge weight lift off of me. Now, the sympathies have come in when the difference between Before Quix and After Quix was so apparent. A friend that used to think the situation was "no big deal" apologized when as she put it, "You're starting to live again. Really? That was messing you up that bad? Really? Wow! I guess so."

Thanks for nothing. Oh and suddenly my packages aren't disappearing, fancy that. I can do my laundry between the normal hours at our complex and wouldn't you know it...not one single issue or problem. Huh. The coincidences! Now the neighbors have even sheepishly admitted that clearly I was being harassesed but what's that do for me? I just shrug it off and say, "Yeah, well, I guess it wasn't YOUR problem so why bother being sorry about it now?"

Hindsight is a beautiful and cruel thing. Had I known what I know now? I wouldn't have stayed. No friggin way. Is it fair? Is it just or right? Nope. Would it have been an incredible hardship on me at a time when I couldn't afford it? Oh, yeah. And here's the problem with hindsight. We never know how much better or worse things can play out once we take a different time track (Trekkie girl!). It's true that looking back I can say I should've left no matter how dear the price and it would've been oh so dear. But maybe my leaving would’ve snowballed into other problems that would've seen me in a worse predicament that would have me writing a different end to this difficult chapter...advising others to hold on and don't give in instead of advising women here that sometimes the sacrifice does justify the results. Therein lies the problem, I will never really know what could've happened had I reacted to my situation differently. It seemed at the time that his living there was temporary and it would be a matter of when not if. By the time I got with the program, in many ways for me the damage was done. I survived it but I would not recommend anyone to do as I did as it was a horrible, never ending experience.

So to answer your question regarding working with the nice narc, I have no solid solution. So long as you're actively looking for employment and are serious about getting out--DO!--then what you're doing is probably the best you can hope for in all frankness. The betrayal of others hurts, sometimes worse than the trigger itself. It isn't up to you how they feel about him. Sucks but true. All I can say is do not accept these working conditions like I did my living one, please do what you can to remove yourself from the situation. I lost some of the best years of my life (26-34) existing in a fugue state. Nobody is worth that brand of self-accepting misery. In the end, I am glad I held onto my place but had "my ship come in" I would've been out of there like a bat out of hell so really it did come down to just money. That's maddening and very, very sad.

I don't feel like I triumphed...I endured and sometimes that isn't the best answer to life's problems. I am a tolerator to a too-high degree. So to all of you who see the N because of kids, work or geography, I hear and feel your pain. It is a mindfuck of the highest order and if you can maintain your sanity and be kind to yourself and limit the exposure to bare minimum, trust me, it is the best way to heal and move on. I have started to come to grips with what I went through and it chafes my hide to know that what I mistook for bravery was really learned helplessness.

If people in your life don't get it, come here because we do. Had I known about this forum then, I doubt Hunter, Goldie or Spinning would've permitted me to stay in the funktastic world I patiently took as a penance. But for this experience, I am unsure I would've been prey for my epiphany N or the brutal relationship (non-N but shite is shite) I had in 2008. I see this now, free in my environment. Free to walk and roam and swim in the pool as I didn't feel free before.

This freedom is something we must treasure as we women have earned it and we should not be so quick to sacrifice it for these selfish, misogynistic N's or A-holes. Not one day should be wasted to anyone who would rather clip our wings or keep us in a cage of manipulation.

And be kind ladies to the ex-gf, ex-wife regardless of what she does, what your man tells you because there are always two sides. We are all the OW but how can we expect men to treat us with care, compassion and respect if we don't start with each other. Let's stop competing and root for the same team even if and when we believe the OW is the problem. She's not anymore than we are. She and we are symptomatic of the bigger issue and even our own personal failings. I will never forget the OW when she laughed at my near harm anymore than I will forget how she morphed into my appearance. She chose her fate no different than I chose mine and even after all I went through, I know I got the better end of that dipstick, but it was her decision to choose cruelty over empathy, ignore rather than inquire and to please to the annihilation of her own identity. Don't be that woman and don't assume the ex-OW is evil. My existence was the reason for her hostility substantiated by my ex, but we must see, hear and think better than that. Follow the Golden Rule with Ow’s both future and past. It is the deepest cut when one is so judgmental of another without benefit of all the facts and assumptions based on superficialities.

I'm grateful she finally took him away and freed me from my sentence in doing so. I hope she's happy with the life he carved out for her that was really the one he planned for me. Better she walk in the footprints while carrying heavy a load. Those were not my footsteps in the sand. I want a pair of footprints walking alongside me. If that’s too much to ask then I’ll just keep walking and make my own way. It’s lonely at times but what is love if not having the confidence of someone taking a journey side-by-side. I see no other long-term substitute and you know when you look over if the man or woman is beside you, dashing up ahead or falling behind.

For now, I'm content to walk alone.