I Had a Stalker for 2 Years
I did a huge no-no a few years back and joined the online dating circuit. This was after the break-up I had thrust upon me over Facebook (of which you can read here). I just wanted to date someone else and be completely clear of the jackass moron that I wasted nearly two years of my life on. Unable to just remain single and free, I began to search the dangerous watering holes of online dating. I was approached by weirdo’s of all sorts but managed to find someone decent for the most part (keywords: for the most part).
Here we go–let’s get into another relationship without really catching a breather. The guy I was dating was on a whole other wavelength. He was all about me and I just didn’t reciprocate that. (I’m just here pretending I enjoy this.) Besides, it was one of those relationships where an expiration date was attached since I knew that he wanted children (and we all know how I feel about children). To make matters worse–he wasn’t into Halloween but was obsessed with Football. This relationship was doomed from the beginning and deep down I just knew it was a waste of my time. (Sorry-not-sorry). It’s a mystery (to this day) as to why I started dating this person but I blame it on the rebound.
During the course of our relationship, I was slowly realizing that I was unhappy. He and I had nearly nothing in common so I was practically dating an alien as far as I was concerned. I was only with him because I didn’t want to be alone. I was used to having someone there with me. As time went on, I was becoming increasingly annoyed and felt less and less involved in the relationship. My parents, on the other hand, loved the fact he had his own place and a grown-up job. My friends thought he was nice but could tell that I was not all there. To make matters even worse–he would constantly tell me that dating me didn’t really require ‘an effort’. (Yeah, he said that.)
As Christmas approached, I became ecstatic. And it wasn’t just because I love this time of the year–it was because he had decided to go back to his hometown to visit family. This was my chance to get some much needed distance. I could figure out if this ship was truly sinking or if I could salvage it. Through all this contemplation, I would encounter the very thing that I wouldn’t be able to shake off for two years…
During my lunch break at work, I was in the middle of ignoring repetitive text messages from my soon to be ex-boyfriend when I was approached by one of the waiters in our restaurant. I enjoyed eating lunch alone the majority of the time but since my phone kept blowing up, I needed some kind of distraction. So when he asked if he could sit with me seeing as though the rest of the tables were taken–I decided to take in the company. Being polite, I told him that he could. Biggest. Regret. Ever.
He introduced himself as Alan*. We talked for a good while. Shifting our conversation from work to tv-shows that we enjoyed, my lunch had run it’s course but since we had gotten along so well I figured that we were friends now. It felt nice to find another coworker who shared the same interests. So, I did the thing I shouldn’t have done–I gave this person my digits.
The day of my breakup, I had been texting my boyfriend at the doctors office. I already hate the doctor’s office (it gives me unbelievable amounts of anxiety) so having to deal with anxiety plus my annoying boyfriend–I was pretty much done. I had realized my answer was staring at me straight in the face. Once this appointment was over, I would have to end things. I’ve always told other’s that they shouldn’t be a coward and break-up over a text or phone call but at this rate–I was just fed up and over it. I ended up doing it over a text message while he was still out of state visiting family during Christmas. I know–I’m a fucking monster.
Since my break-up, Alan and I had started hanging out. And because I was young and stupid, I ended up sleeping with him. Biggest. Mistake. Ever. I felt vulnerable. I had wasted another 6 months on someone due to my previous relationship. Alan had started giving me attention. And I guess it felt nice to be wanted for a change. Looking back on it now–I was just a young and dumb single lady. I was a walking hot mess who was just making horrible decisions without any disregard of the outcome. But I knew that I didn’t want to enter a relationship with Alan. I was trying to enjoy my freedom for once. Could you blame me? Alan and I were just friends with benefits. I wasn’t emotionally attached. I had zero plans of entering a committed relationship with him. He was just considered company and nothing more…
I’ve been contemplating on getting a Disneyland Annual Pass for some time now. I used to have one when I was in high school but now that I could afford it again, I decided to treat myself. Alan wanted one as well (go figure), so we decided to go and get our passes. The entire Disney day, I wanted to throw myself off a bridge. He was extremely hyper active and incredibly annoying. Alan was worse than some of the children coked out on candy throughout the park. He was much older than me but acted as if he was a pre-teen. Needless to say–I couldn’t wait for the day to be over. I half-wished that I would lose him in the crowd and then I could spend the rest of the day by myself and leave his ass there. From that day forward, I decided to stop associating myself with Alan.
He was becoming extremely clingy and made it evidently clear that he wanted me more than just the confines of our ‘friendship’.
No thanks dude…
I’m not particularly vicious (at first) but I will activate my inner raging bitch when provoked. I had slowly fallen off the radar with Alan. I was ignoring his texts and I was acting distant so I was hoping he’d eventually get the point. One rainy Sunday, I was having the cramps from hell (sorry, not sorry). I was in zero mood to do anything and I wanted to crawl in my bed and let the crimson wave crush me to death. Alan had been harassing me to go on another (miserable) trip to Disneyland with him and to get him off my back, I agreed (even though I knew I would just bail on him anyway). So when bloody Sunday arrived, I had received text messages from Alan asking what time we were leaving. I explained that it was raining so going to Disneyland was pointless (come on, who wants to ride a coaster with their butt all wet?). I’m already suffering from cramps, it’s raining and I don’t want to hang with this dude anymore…
Two seconds after I sent my response, Alan called me up screaming in my ear. He had entered full on rage mode and practically shouted through the phone at me. Alan was pissed that I was bailing and he even ‘bought’ me an umbrella. To make things even more possessive and downright crazy–he claimed that I didn’t have a problem going with other people to Disneyland and yet I was bailing on him. I mean- he wasn’t wrong there–I much preferred Disneyland with others than him. But then again–who cares? Did you buy my annual pass? Then feel free to fuck off. And to top it all off–he called me a selfish bitch. Remember when I said that I’m a raging bitch when provoked? Here it comes…
With the help of PMS, I screamed right back. I didn’t give a flying fuck about his umbrella or his feelings. I’m not obligated to go anywhere with him. I’m allowed to stay home if I’m not feeling well. Who was he to tell me what to do? At the end of me shooting fire out of my mouth through the phone, I told him to not call or text me ever again.
Spoiler Alert: That wouldn’t be the last time I would hear from Alan…
My friend Bradford and I decided to make a ritual to go every Thursday to Disneyland since that’s when there were zero crowds and it was easy for our schedules. Bradford is the fabulous drag queen in my life of whom I absolutely adore. We enjoyed working together but on our off time, he became my permanent Disney partner. Throughout the day we would attend shows, enjoy the parade, and ride rides. And since him and I are active on social media, everyone knew of when we were at Disneyland so it should come to no surprise that Alan caught wind of it…
I received a phone call from Alan as Bradford and I were standing in line. He told me he was on his way to Disneyland to find me…
What the actual fuck.
In all reality, I probably should have ignored the phone call–but then again I probably wouldn’t have received such a warning if I didn’t. Alan didn’t even have a car but told me he was on the bus. This psycho was on his to Disneyland. But for what? To go on a trek to find us in the park? It takes over an hour by bus to get to Disneyland from where he lives. And even if he did find us–then what? I was too busy freaking out to answer those questions myself. It was odd and it was the first time I felt the ping of anxiety. I was beginning to think that Alan was unstable and unpredictable…
A position had recently opened up within another department. It paid a little bit more than what I was currently making and it was office based. I wouldn’t have to deal with guests face to face either which made the position all that more appealing. During that time, I was currently on my parent’s phone plan and had begged for them to block Alan’s number. The text messages were relentless. Some messages were long disturbing paragraphs. They would occur throughout the day and I was left to feel angry and almost anxious. The funny thing about cell phone providers is that they can only block a number for a limited amount of time until you have to continue to pay for such a feature. I didn’t have an IPhone which makes it so much easier to block a number, so I was at the mercy of my stupid android phone. Once Alan was blocked, I felt relieved.
One day after my shift was over, I was sitting in my car unwinding after a stressful day. I usually do this before hopping on the freeway for my drive home. Do you ever get the feeling that someone is watching you? It’s as if something is tugging on you to look in a particular direction. Alan had been watching me, and I’m not even sure how long. By the time I glanced into my rearview mirror, my body froze. How long had he been standing there watching me?
And most importantly–how did he know where I was parked?
I drove home feeling absolutely nauseous. I felt on edge. Had he gotten to know my schedule even after I switched departments? Was he following me? This was taking a toll on me mentally and physically. I started to have the sweats and the shakes for fucks sake. I had previously blocked him for a limited time but once the ‘cellular wall’ had gone down, his messages would start to infiltrate my inbox. Was he texting me everyday to see if I would respond? I didn’t know. My phone was becoming the permanent dumpster of insane, lengthy and psychotic paragraphs from Alan. I felt trapped and I just wanted it to stop.
When an opportunity for another job came up, I didn’t hesitate. I immediately put in my two weeks (which consisted of me calling out daily). The new job I had taken was much further away but it was a fresh start for me. I would be away from the very place I had been trying to get out of for the past two years and more importantly–I’d be away from Alan. I had already blocked him on social media and had taken extra precautions on revealing my location when it came to checking in to places. I had to be extra careful. I know it sounds silly, but I had zero clue who Alan really was at this point. He was showing his crazy colors. Messages from Alan had stopped and I thought that maybe , just maybe it would finally be put to rest…
My new job had taken a lot out of me. My schedule consisted of waking up at 5:00am just to get on the freeway before 6:00am to avoid traffic. I’d pull up to the parking lot nestled near the beach, throw on my makeup and clock in for my shift. Once my shift was over at 4:30pm, I’d make the long drive home through heaps of traffic only to finally step into my house at 6:00pm. I’d repeat this five days a week. It was extremely difficult to maintain this schedule at first, but eventually I got the hang of it. After a long week of work, I had taken the advantage of sleeping in one Saturday morning. Waking up with disheveled hair and dry drool on my face, I wandered into the kitchen seeking coffee. My mom who had been awake for several hours approached me while I was pouring a fresh cup;
“Your friend Alan stopped by when you were sleeping..”
My skin felt as if bugs were crawling on it. At first I thought I may have been hallucinating (of which I would have preferred). Unable to absorb what was happening, my brow lifted itself in confusion…
Was this a nightmare? I must have been dreaming right?
Sadly, I wasn’t.
“I told him you were sleeping. He dropped off some stuff.”
My world was spinning. My stomach felt like someone had taken it and squeezed it to death. What the fuck was happening? How had he remembered where I lived? And then it hit me. One evening, I had to stop by my house to get my jacket before we hung out. And to make matters worse–I drove us! I had unknowingly let a deranged wing-ding know where I lived. He must of scribbled my address down or he had an incredible memory. Either way, I was terrified. He had dropped off a notebook and an umbrella. The notebook was filled with scribbles of things he wanted to do with me, trips he wanted to take me on, etc. And the umbrella was from the Disney excursion I bailed on…
I couldn’t leave my house. I refused. My anxiety was off the charts. He had stopped by unannounced after I had made it incredibly clear that I didn’t want him near me. And to make it extra weird with a dash of creepy, he had dropped off items that weren’t even mine! It was just an excuse to stop by my house in a last ditch effort to see me since I no longer worked where he worked.
I do this thing where I immediately jump to insane hypotheticals. I do it a lot and I end up going down this insane rabbit hole. But once Alan had came to my house, I immediately hopped on the red-eye to my land of insane hypotheticals. I mean–could you blame me? What if he was waiting down the street? What if he was waiting for the opportunity to take me against my will? What if I was trying to get into my car and he snuck up behind me put a rag over my mouth rendering me unconscious? I was only thinking this shit because this type of thing happens to people even in broad daylight. I was extremely paranoid that I was going to be another victim of kidnapping. I stayed home the entire day feeling trapped and nauseous. I told my mom that Alan was not a friend and that if he ever stepped foot on our property again that she needed to call the police.
I was a mix of emotions. I was anxious, nervous, and nauseous. But above all else, I was absolutely furious. I’ve told this person repeatedly to leave me alone and he continued to harass me. He would call me to see if I picked up. He would text me short sentences or long deranged paragraphs. And now–he had come to my house–uninvited. I decided to make things evidently clear as a form of documentation…
One of the few valuable tools that I learned from my mother is the tool of documentation. Whether it’s for personal or professional purposes, documenting secures a time-stamp and evidence of events. Over the course of two years, I had compiled a series of text messages and dated events. If I had enough information documented, I would have more proof to provide authorities if necessary. All in all–I just wanted it to stop.
I needed to have a final, lengthy and rather serious written message that could potentially be used as documentation. I told him to stay away from me and my home. I emphasized that he was not welcome on my property. He had come uninvited and proceeded to engage in conversation with one of my family members. His behavior was unwelcome, unwanted and inappropriate.
A few months had passed by without word from Alan. My anxiety was still there from time to time but was more manageable. To clear my head after a long day at work and the overwhelming stressful shit that was happening at my house, I would go jogging. Jogging allowed me to release all this pressure that had been mounting. My phone has the majority of my music on it and so I would bring it with me. As I began to run on my way back to my house, I received a message. Alan had began to text me once more. I responded telling him to leave me alone and that I wasn’t going to tell him to do so again.
Alan was going to be this parasitic tick that would continue to feast on my anxiety and fear.
With all the information I had in regards to his behavior, there was nothing I could do. Law enforcement told me that I was unable to proceed with a restraining order seeing as though he had yet to ‘threaten’ my life. I felt incredibly alone. There was nothing I could do. I would have to continue to play this mind-fuck of a game with Alan until he threatened my life? It all seemed like a ticking time bomb. I thought this shit was never going to end. Alan was going to keep harassing me and stalking me until it was too late.
Exactly two years later from the time I had met Alan, I received another creepy ‘Hello Megan’ message on my phone. I hesitated on my usual fuck off response. I decided to approach this situation differently. I pretended that I was someone else. I told him that he had the wrong number. And he believed me. Anyone with a brain would know to call my phone and listen to my voicemail but since he lacked intelligence, he believed what I said. He believed that he had the wrong number and he no longer had access to communicate with Megan anymore. I outsmarted him. I had put a stop to it. I only wish I could have done it sooner…
For the past two years, Alan had stalked me at work and when I no longer worked there, he would harass me on the phone through social media, voicemails and text messages. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was finally over. At first I was hesitant and I waited for his usual response to cross my screen once more–but it’s been two whole years since I’ve heard from him.
My situation was mild and it could have been much, much worse. There are many people out there who are not as fortunate. Some have been stalked and harassed for years often ending in tragedy. I got curious once more and I turned to Twitter to create a poll. Was I alone in this? Was there more victims out there that have dealt with stalkers in their life?
80% said Yes. 80% have been stalked and harassed by someone. That. is. fucking. crazy.
What happened to me has left a stain. I’m very attentive when I am out in public and I’m cautious when it comes to meeting new people. I hate that what I went through has done this to me but it’s a valuable lesson that I’ve learned. The world isn’t a safe place. It’s filled with wing-ding Alan’s who don’t know when to leave you the fuck alone.
Be careful who you become vulnerable with. Be careful who you let into your life.
*Names have been changed*
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