Wow. I have a new found respect for all of the ex-girlfriends I have heretofore remembered with hatred. Surprising my first love at her college when I was still in HS and walking in on her having sex is so trivial in comparison to these psychos that I’m ashamed for even thinking it was a big deal. 
I also think I’ll cut the wife some slack for always leaving her shoes under the coffee table. 
yeah, my ex is/was a psycho, but she gave me some pretty cool life lessons indirectly.
I don’t play social games anymore, I’m upfront with people right off the bat, and I have no tolerance for lying or any other bullshit anymore. You wouldn’t believe how much time this saves in dealing with other people.
Plus I have the perfect fiance’ who loves my daughter and vice versa. ‘My baby momma’ is actually the cause of our relationship - we were longtime friends forced to spend a hell of a lot of time together because of the restraining order. (I wanted a credible witness to my whereabouts at all times.) Out of all that time came the realization that we were what each was looking for. I took no small amount of pleasure in informing the maternal grandmother about the engagement, knowing it would get back to ‘baby momma’. Very evil, but damn therapeutic.
I don’t think I’m still bitter, but I love to tell the story if for no other reason than to remind myself not to let Tyler Durden - a.k.a. my penis - do my thinking for me ever again.
And never marry a practicing alcoholic. First of only two SOs in my life: started out good, so in love with this intelligent, sensitive, loving man that I just knew we could work out the drinking problem, then as the years went by and the drinking got worse – lies, acrimony and blame, love withering, car wrecks, DUI, sickness, police coming to the house, and death at age 36. But hey, at least he didn’t sleep around.
It’s threads like these that make we glad I waited nine years to propose to Mrs. Cliffy.
My worst ex (this was in high school) actually wasn’t too bad. She became very clingly and depressed – which I don’t blame her for; she had had a lot of bad stuff in her recent past – but it was still too much weight for me to carry. The problem wasn’t really her, it was the fact that during the pendency of our relationship, all my mates fell as in love with her as I once had been, so when I broke up with her, they all quit being friends with me. C’est la vie.
–Cliffy
Emotionally scarred from abuse and bad relationships, but bright, caring, gentle–emerging from the scars. She was healing before my eyes when we met, and I fell deep because that was beautiful.
It was also not what was happening. What she was in love with was the romantic state of “look how wounded I am and how I am overcoming it”–permanently recovering, but never actually progressing with that.
A deeply unhealthy fear of conflict, based, as near as I can piece together after the fact, on some fairy-tale notion that a good marriage has no conflict in it. (I suppose that’s fair enough, as long as the marriage doesn’t involve actual human beings, which both of us hapened to be. Go figure.) Therefore, I was supposed to be a mindreader.
Self-esteem issues, a deep lack of comfort in her own skin, and depression and mild paranoia that she didn’t want to see anyone about, and denied it was there. Victim complex–nothing wrong in her life was her fault. Unhappy and homesick, well clearly that was all my responsibility. Oh, and since I was supposed to be a mindreader, that meant I knew full well how resonsible I was. Being a mindreader and all.
In hindsight, the end shouldn’t have been such a surprise. But clear sight is a lot like a cop–not around until the most urgent need for one has passed and damage has already been done. Took a few years before I could write something like this without going either into a cold rage or its flipside of just lost in pain.
Still, a lot of you folks have me beat. Puts things in perspective, sort of.
Just a scary thought. What if some of the devil-exes mentioned here…are the same person? Shudder.
Whoa! Last time I talked to Nocturne, she’d just gotten together with Trevor and … hunh.
I’m very sorry to hear about it, hon. That sucks. Anyway, I know we have talked in a while but I just thought I’d let you know I was still here.
my first girlfreind (err… I won’t mention this was this year) had for 2 days.
andrew: la la la, I’m bored
girl: hey, I’m gonna talk to you!
andrew: okay… whats your favorite book?
girl: redwall!
andrew: hey! the last episode of the cartoon is on this second! woah! thank you! ::goes and watches it::
andrew: thank you, your like an angel sent from tv!
girl: an angel? are you asking me out?
A: err… asking you out?
G: aww, I definitly will go out with you!
A: you…wha?
(this was all online… actually) met her on our first date… which I sent about 10 emails explaining was NOT a date
she shows up… and she is a frightening sight… the most hidious person I have ever seen. and see… I hate how shallow that makes me say… and I would never say that about ANYONE… other than her… because it was her own fault.
she was overweight… but thats not horrible. so am I. but she was also bulemic. and had been for ten years… so she had like… the most screwed up body ever. her hair was like… unwashed in months… and fell out in clumps…
her teeth bled constantly … she smelled like vomit… and never bathed (it scared her to do so)
trying to be a good guy… I went out anyway… can’t judge on looks. well… she also had a 5th grade reading level… even though she was in college… she was in special college… for disabled people… her favorite book being redwall was not cute like I imagined… (my favorite book is little prince) it was simply the best book she could read.
not to mention when she tryed to kiss me… with her rotten teeth and bloody gums… :shutters::
no looks and no intelegance… personality!!!
the reason she was screwed up… was her step father had raped her… when she was 13… she told me this… and I felt so bad for her… kinda understood why she was so screwed up.
everything gave her flashbacks… you could not mention ninjas or pirates or anything similar to that… because it reminded her… in some way I can’t comprehend. she could not talk about captain crunch cerial… because he was a pirate (hes not)
after a while… getting really concerned “what did her father do to her!? I have never met anyone so screwed up!” so asked her… what happened exactly…
get this… my head explodes at this every time I think of it…
the rape that ruined her whole life…
was…
her mother made her hug her stepfather… when she didn’t want to… because it was not her real father… just hugging…
my mother made me hug my grandmother … the fact that counts as rape makes me vomit.
I just kinda stare at her and am like “and?” and shes like “thats it he raped me and my mother helped… she MADE me hug him when I was unconfortable”
total blank stare then I say “so… when I talk about captain crunch… you relive hugs from the past!? couldn’t that be a new advertiseing campain!? I’m leaveing!”
so she calls me a few days later… sure I “broke up” with her because she was bulemic (that bugged me tons… and told her to stop constantly) she said she had cured half of her problem!!!
you know how bulemia is bingeing and purgeing…
well… she had stopped bingeing! yay! she was so excited! “err thats like 10 times worse girl” she started crying…
last thing I heard… the counclers have banned her from ever talking to me again in her entire life.
The aforementioned ex from hell was such a fucker (well, now he’s a DEAD fucker). He literally put me through a wall, tried to kidnap my son, screwed his girlfriend in our bed (and didn’t I just have to fucking walk in on them?) and then…at the ripe old age of 30…he started dating the babysitter! He married her, abused her, and then when he died, she started dating a real nut case who abused her to the point where SHE BURIED AN AXE IN HIS FACE! But she’s a fuck head anyway and has totally screwed up her life.
Let’s just say prison was a common word in my X-so relationship. He was there before we met - and wound up there again after it was over. He liked it there so much he tried to get me to go there! I did some really stupid things with him, things I can’t mention here, and Thank God I never got caught with him or I would be serving some time right now. I was young and naive, though that’s no excuse but I’m using it anyway :).
I know the feeling! My (soon-to-be) ex-wife is a combination of Drastic’s and dwc1970’s WEEs. They described her so perfectly, it’s got me wondering …scary. I’m glad my story’s not nearly as bad as several others here though.
My worst exes are as follows:
I’m not totally sure if this guy counts because it was all over after the first date… He sexually assaulted me on our first date and then wondered why I wouldn’t talk to him after that. He then proceeded to tell our all mutual friends I was a slut and that we had slept together. I was a young teenager at the time, very conservative about these things, and very humiliated. Whenever we ran into each other, he harrassed me.
Another one, he tried to run me over with his car when I told him it was over! God, that guy was a nutjob.
I’ve gotten a lot smarter over the years, though.
This thread had me thinking about my worst ex in the last few days. He’s nothing of the nature of some of the beasts that fellow Dopers so undeservedly had found themselves paired with, but he was…uh…interesting.
“Christian” was, well, sick. He wasn’t abusive (not physically or sexually or verbally), he wasn’t cruel…he was just sick.
Long of the short of it:
Christian had a drug addiction to painkillers. I did not know this until a few months into the relationship. I nearly dumped him when I found out, and should have, but instead stormed over there and made him flush all the pills in front of me, naively believing it would be over (hey, I was 21 then…). Of course, like addicts due, he had a hidden stash I never knew about.
He was also very unstable emotionally. He was difficult to predict, difficult to understand, and sometimes just so thick…ugh. See, that’s another thing; it’s horrible to say it, but he was just Not Smart. In fact, he was Not Average. Really rather Dull Witted, in fact. But he was kind-hearted (usually) so I thought it snobbish of me to want someone, I dunno, intelligent.
He was going through this whole drama with a painful skin condition at the time, and he became extremely off-center. (He would go from doctor to doctor getting pain killers–with each doc unaware of the other. Plus, as a paramedic, he had access to some drugs as well.) He called me up one day, gleefully telling me how he’d driven however many hours to show up at his step-mom’s front door, cuss her out loudly on her front porch when she answered, and threaten (but fortunately not act out) violence. That whole convo gave me the creeps.
Fast forward about 2 years. We’d broken up, dropped out of contact, and I’m dating the man I would eventually marry. I’d not heard from Christian in ages, but the DARE officer at my school happened to work with his brother. She comes in one day telling me this story: Christian, an unemployed paramedic (and still an addict), had tried to kill himself. His fiance had broken up with him–over the drugs, according to his brother(“I can’t blame her”)–and Christian, despondent, decided he needed to die. He dressed up in his paramedic outfit (?!), took out a gun, and…couldn’t do it. So, as punishment for being such a “chicken,” he shot himself in the foot. Twice.
The DARE officer said she’d spoken with Christian’s brother about me, updating him on how I was now a teacher, had a new boyfriend, etc., and he told her something to the effect it was good to hear I was doing well, he’d always liked me, and he thought it really rather sadly true it was best (for me and others) that his brother and I weren’t in contact.
Well, 2 weeks go by (during which I later learn Christian was in a mental hospital). I get a voicemail from Christian (thanks to Mom and Dad, who gave him my phone number), saying something to the effect of “Well, here’s a blast from your past! I just wanted to call, see how your’re doing, see if you’re still seeing that guy…and hey, if you want to hear a story, give me a call…” Yeesh. He had no idea I actually already knew the story. I moved two weeks later and have never heard from him, or about him, since.
This morning, on a whim, I Googled his name. Shockingly, I found an article about him in a little city online newsletter. It detailed how he’d overcome obstacles to write and release this new Christian music CD. The article glossed over, or perhaps was ignorant of, nearly all the details I’ve shared here. However, it did say that he’d been diagnosed clinically depressed when he was 20–and that he’d been abused and molested. I never knew either of those things! (Though I suspected it.)
Man. What memories! Makes me want to just go tackle the hubby and give him lots and LOTS of good lovin’…I am so thankful for, oh, the sobriety, the sanity, the intellect, the humor…etc, so forth, and so on that was lacking here.
The girl who pretended to like me because she was hoping to get me involved in some pyramid scheme she was part of. Five years later, it still pisses me off just thinking about it.