Anniversary tomm of my attempted murder in Aftermath

Tommorow is the anniversary of the day my ex finally tried to kill me once and for all.

I think its been three years now. The last few years have been hard. The last year was when the peace bond expired the year before that was the court proceedings and this year I guess is the time I feel alot of the repressed anger fear grief hurt from it all.

This whole week has been hard. I feel like someone has died. Maybe a part of me died that day. I dont know.

I still live in fear of him. I know hes probably not stalking me..my fear is that i will run into him. I am abput 89 percent sure one of these days I will see him or run into him. I guess thats partly what my dog spray can be used for I guess.

I dont know how I will feel what I will do what I will do.

I am angry at the legal system for doing basically jack shit other than making it more traumatizing and worse for me. I was just reading last night the guidebook for victims in Canada and the legal system and its all just a crock of shit. You cant re appeal nothing its all up to the crown. The crown did nothing for me. The court appointed victim services i thought was a literal joke. They treated me with such contempt and left me in the dark about many things.

The end of all the court shit was just so anti climatic. 5 minutes before i was supposed to go on the stand to testify they tell me he signed a peace bond.

I live literally 10 minutes away from the court house and they never even sent me the peace bond. I go in and they hand me the peace bond in a shitty ripped used envelope.

Inside? His intentional chicken scratch barely legible writting. He intentionally spelled his last name wrong. He showed utter contempt for the court. First by showing up half an hour late than showing up piss drunk than the court re schedules and sends him home to sober up.

I swear the court cares more about the abuser than the fucking victim.

I have no closure and my life is still at risk. I am sad pissed off and feel like I never mattered.

He broke my arm and I live with intermitten bad bad pain in my arm from arthritis at times.

Ill never forget the huge fucking knife he used to threaten to stab me with.

That day I saved my own damn life. It took me twice to escape. While he had the damn knife in his hand.

It was terrifying shocking. Sometimes i wonder if i am actually alive or if i died that day. Dissociated i guess.

He broke my heart.my arm..my trust.

Ive been through another near death assault before but this one tops the cake. It was extremely violent terrifying. The first time another man assaulted me I was terrified than all of a sudden this warmth and peace came over me and i got up from the ground and fought him off of me.

This one. This one. No such thing happened. I was on my knees puke all over me in extreme pain from my arm being broken than shoved into a wall. He held a knife over me. A chef knife. A god damn huge chef knife.

He threatened to use it if I didnt take of my clothes and get into the shower.

I remeber his face. It was full of rage and looked evil souless distorted. It didnt seem like him but it was him.

It felt unreal. Like i was in a horror movie. I was pretty sure I was probably going to die. But I really didnt have much to think about anything more but survival.

But as he was dragging me to the washroom i read in my statement to the police later on I hoped that he loved me enough not to kill me.

I felt terror the whole way through. But fight or flight kicked in and I got up and ran towards the door for the second time. He fought me over the lock hard.

But some how I was able to get out the door.

I ran down the hall and down the stairs. I could hear his feet stomping behind me. To intimidate me. I ran as fast as I could. Down the street. I was scared to death that he was going to catch up to me on the stairs and stab me to death there.

He was my best friend. My lover.my neighbour.My classmate.

How could he do this to me? Was it the liqour? Was it the pills he disolved in the alcohol? Was it his entitlement over me?

Was it the stitches in his neck from what he told me was an attempt on his life with a knife?

I asked him if he was scared. He told me he was.

So how the fuck could he do the same to me? How could he put me through the same terror and fear he felt probably not even a week later?

How fucking dare he.

Last updated September 24, 2019