I Didn’t Ask for This to Happen
When I married Paula, I was under the illusion of her lie that she owned her home. I’ve written about this and talked about it so many times I could puke. As I’ve repeatedly said, I couldn’t have cared less if she lived in a cardboard box because I loved her. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she’d fold me the truth herself, but instead, I was put through months and months of ever-increasing lies and the associated emotional anguish, until her cousin told me she rented a council house, and had been in arrears on her rent for years. As I wrote in Lies to Me, Fraud Against the UK Border Agency, Paula was quite content not only to lie to me, but to perpetrate fraud against the British government. And I provided proof in that post.
Paula began her charade by masturbating in front of her webcam when she couldn’t even see me on my end. Obviously, I can’t and won’t post an X-rated video, but it’s right here on my computer, proof positive of what was done to me should anyone doubt.
I sold my home, gave away virtually everything I owned including irreplaceable mementos of my life’s history, and moved across the ocean for her. If I added up all the money I lost, it would be to the tune of tens of thousands of dollars based on Paula’s scams. I provided a mere sampling of this in Lies … And Hard Evidence. If I was a rich man, perhaps this wouldn’t matter, but I’m not a rich man, and it damn near left me homeless.
Because of her lies, the manipulations, and the stress, I suffered Bell’s palsy and a stroke when I moved over to the UK in July 2011. To this day, I still have excruciating nerve pain in my face, and will live with that for the rest of my life. I had a tattoo on my chest that Paula got for my birthday which will remind me every day of what she put me through, not unlike the tattoo that Claire will forever wear.
I had no way of predicting, really, that my beloved dog, Otis, would end up dead in Paula’s care. Or that her rages would escalate to the point of physical violence as she forced me out of the car on the roadside by McDonald’s in Shoreham-by-Sea, in a foreign country when I was “legally blind” (US) and “severely sight impaired” (UK), had no idea where I was and no one to call for help. Doubt it? Contact PC Watson, CW426, at the Worthing police station, OIS Serial Number 0755 dated 24/10/2011.
I could write reams about what I endured, what I witnessed, and what was told to me. And it wouldn’t even begin to scratch the surface. Some of it, frankly, too nauseating to comprehend.
Ultimate Betrayal — In Both Directions
This might be a foggy memory, a nightmare put to bed, except that my wife and i are still legally married. When I fled back to the United States after the death of my dog in May 2012, I was so traumatized, the best I could do was survive, minute by minute. And that wasn’t easy, seeing how I couldn’t sit around and grieve, but had to find a new home. Straightaway, I did look into getting a divorce, but I lacked transportation to the courthouse, and my savings had been depleted to the point that I was almost left homeless. Had my mother not passed away in the midst of the turmoil, February 2012, I’d be on the street begging right now. But my mother was only a secretary, and what she left me was just enough to put a roof over my head. Lacking funds, lacking transportation, lacking emotional support, traumatized, I was in no state to file for a divorce with the international complications. I put it off for the time when I got myself grounded and safe.
But then Paula began her campaign of begging me to return to the UK. And despite all she’d done, I desperately wanted to return, yet was immobilized by fear. So we had the debacle of the sofa — see Outrageous Lies — The Sofa. I still clung to the hope of my marriage vows and was arduously resisting any ideas about psychopaths. Paula’s mum died in the summer of 2013, and she used her mum’s illness to scam more money out of me. I won’t repeat the “Telephone Messages” video.
By January of 2014, as her birthday was approaching, I wanted to put a period on the whole nasty saga. I was ready to go either way. I thought perhaps her mum’s death had awakened her to what is truly important in life, and was willing to give her one more chance. But if she wanted a divorce, I was now strong enough to follow through, and would have done so with no regrets. However, that’s when Paula chose to perpetrate the ultimate betrayal. Not just against me, but against Claire as well.
You see, Paula started out by thanking me for the gifts I’d sent in anticipation of her birthday, and telling me she’d moved on, had been with “Cassie” for 10 months, and wanted a divorce. As I wrote before, I looked at the calendar and realized that if she’d been with this “Cassie” for 10 months, then she’d been playing me while she begged me to return to the UK, and conned me out of, how much?, a couple of thousand dollars and more. So I did my research, and found out who “Cassie,” um, Claire was. If Paula had stuck to her position of wanting a divorce, it would have all been just more water under the bridge. I would have gone about the business of initiating a divorce with her cooperation and wished her well. Instead, while I had given her one last chance, she couldn’t resist pulling one last scam.
I made myself available to talk about the divorce, but she wouldn’t show up when promised. Then she said it wasn’t “important.” Then she said “Cassie” had broken up with her, which quickly shifted to her telling me that she had broken up with Claire because she “loved me.” Meanwhile, I could see their relationship status on Facebook unchanged.
And she slipped into her scam, telling me she was about to be sent to prison for not paying her council rent / tax. And, oh, could I send her the money, to save her from being sent to prison? I was absolutely staggered. She feigned two court appearances, the second one where she claimed to be in front of the judge who had asked her to contact me via Skype to determine if I’d wire her the money.
I previous pasted the snippet of the Skype conversation where she told me she had broken up with Claire, but I can’t recall now if I uploaded the screen shots. In case there is any doubt whatsoever:
The woman doesn’t love anyone or anything but money. She’s a walking mirage, an empty shell. She destroys everyone in her path.
When I started writing in earnest, I didn’t intend it to be a one-stop psychopath central. Writing has always been my secret talent and my unfulfilled dream. I had many things in mind — my transitioning, my thoughts on Buddhism and Christianity, my goofy humor, my relationship with my mother and my family, my travels, the odd commentary on politics, my fascination with language, my past mistakes and my attempts to be a better person. All laid bare, for my own growth and healing. But an inescapable part of my journey is what my wife did to me, and so write about that I did. (Why do I sound like Dr. Seuss??)
Yeah, I named names. I didn’t think too much about that because I was telling my truth, and part of my truth was my wife. Why shouldn’t I write about my wife without using her name? I didn’t go and bugle, “Hey, Paula, I’m writing about you!” I don’t know how she found my blog, or if she was the one who found it, or one of her minions. I was just going about the business of my life. I have already posted the first “minion assault” in An Open Letter to Nikki.
What I haven’t yet shared it the threatening email I got from Paula, edited to obscure her email address per WordPress terms and conditions:
Had she not done this, I probably would have gone on writing arcane posts about the differences between British and American English, a topic that even still delights me. But sweetheart, the police ain’t handcuffed me yet, nor have solicitors (AKA lawyers for those who don’t know Britspeak) sent me nasty notices. And WordPress has not removed my blog. I don’t like being called a liar by the biggest liar in the universe, and I don’t like silly threats. If you’ve got money for solicitors, would you kindly apply those funds toward getting a divorce???
Psychopath threats are not to be taken lightly, because you never know how far they will go when exposed. But my wife’s threats have been comedic puffery thus far — though her malevolence, anger, and violence is real. Her idle threats only made me laugh and egged me on.
To Mr. email@example.com AKA Mr. firstname.lastname@example.org
No, I haven’t approved your comments. I know who you are, but out of courtesy, I won’t name you. Your anonymous email addresses pretty much say it all. I don’t take kindly to threats of gutter-tripe, so calling me a “misogynist pig” garnered nothing but a chuckle. And it showed the caliber of person you are.
Your latest communication as Mr. Annonpoo was a little more reasonable, but the first two verbal assaults set the tone. I am not without sympathy for your situation. I’d do near anything to protect the ones I loved. So I don’t blame you too much. I understand the situation you are in and I have no desire to hurt the ones you love. I know there are things I don’t know, and yet there are far too many things I do know. You can rest easy, I have no intention of plastering what I know on my blog.
But please, don’t defend Paula or cover for her. She’s a danger to other innocents who rightly ought to be warned and protected. And honestly, she’s never going to be safe for that one you love. If you only knew the things Paula said about her and how she despised her…. As much as the one you love craves family, especially after the death of Paula’s mum, she’s not going to get it from Paula, who can never be trusted. She needs you, and for your efforts, you are admirable.
I’d like to happily move on, but that is hard to do while a legal marriage still exists and Paula is engaging in open adultery. Ideally, I’d communicate with her about getting a divorce, but with all her lies and treachery, I don’t trust her and have no desire to have any contact with her ever again. Getting a divorce, with the international factor is complicated. I’d do it on my own, with minimal cost and complication if I was assured she’d cooperate. At the least, she’d have to accept and sign the summons if I did it without the cost of an attorney. I don’t trust her to do even that. I’ll be damned if I pay the $3,000 to retain an attorney when she’s stripped me of everything precious. At 58, with few resources and no family, I’m loathe to cough up one more thin dime in her direction. Yet I might, just to get rid of her… If you want to communicate with me about this, then send me a non-abusive email, from your real account, not as Mr. Buttox or Mr. Annonpoo. But please don’t belittle me or imply that I have not been victimized.
I’m sorry you’ve been caught up in this, it was not my intention. The finger of blame points not at me, but at Paula. She alone did what she did and made her choices. I regret my blog has caused you heartache. I repeat, rest easy, I’m not going to plaster the nasty details for the whole world to see. I have no earthly idea how this will all be resolved, but in the meanwhile, tell the one you love to stop reading my blog.
To My Blog Readers
You are probably scratching your head and wondering, “WTF???” What you have is a ringside seat to psychopath drama. Quite unanticipated, I’m the target who knows too much. I didn’t ask for it and don’t want it, but I have in the palm of my hands the ability to rip the mask off my psychopath. I won’t sink to her level, because as Mr. Buttox AKA Mr. Annonpoo points out, a lot of innocent people would be hurt. It’s an ethical dilemma because there are a lot of innocent people (and children) who continue to be hurt, and others who will be hurt.
I wish it would all go away so I could write about butterflies, rainbows, lighthouses, and unicorns.
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