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cynthiamarie -> RE: How do you define stalking? (6/3/2006 8:48:58 PM)
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Even posting a note at a college bulletin board for a roommate can attach a stalker, as I found out years ago when I lived in California.
I got phone calls describing where I went that day, and describing some of the people I was talking with, and/or some of the things I was seen doing at work that day. I had two jobs, and one was working in a group home from Friday at 4 p.m. through Monday afternoon; I came back home on Monday after grocery shopping very tired, would put away stuff, and go to bed.. I think he was waiting for me in my walk in closet one time, or in the shower stall, and came out after I had gone to bed. Enough said.
He called me daily for months, asking if I was pregnant...he was drunk or high most of the time, if not every time. Told me his brother told him that he was trash, and only a good strong woman could save him. That women always fight, but once they're pregnant, they go along with anything. Is it clear that I didn't know the man? I gave one interview and one follow up call to not accept him for a roommate. It was unfortunate for me that he had been watching me at my other job, at a movie theater, where I was a supervisor, and was drawn to my strength. The man saw me as a walking meal ticket that would be his if one of his rapes could only get me pregnant. What an incredible mindset.
I called the police often, but nobody came. I guess it was written down and filed away. There were no anti-stalking laws at that time. When I showed up at my girlfriend's home battered and crying, she made me call the police. My face wasn't marked, btw. Male officers came, no females, I was in my apartment ALONE with a policeman standing less than 2 feet from me and he was bothered with me over my eyes being at his shoes, unable to look him in the face the entire time. I was in a dissociative state. I was 22 1/2 years old, and got a lecture about not being on birth control, and that I should never live on my own, but should have kept living with my parents until I got married and left home. I was too deep in shock to tell him that I was married but separated.
The stalker was outside talking to the other officer. He was drunk and high, and I could hear him telling the other one that he was my boyfriend and he lived with me. As proof of his living with me, he said his stuff was in the other bedroom in my apartment. The policeman went in and found a single dufflebag tossed into the otherwise empty closet. They removed it and told him to leave me alone until I had cooled off.
Half an hour later, around 2 a.m., he was bashing at my door bellowing and screaming, calling me bitch and that he was going to rape me again. (Nobody ever thought to ask anyone in any of the other 7 units, now I see that he had incriminated himself. I was unable to think about it.) I piled up my furniture in front of my door and called 911. I was on the phone with my girlfriend, crying while he screamed profanities and two hours later the police still had not come. I phoned again, and the dispatch said that there had been a shift change, and that this was a domestic dispute and did I still need the police? I held the phone to the door so she could hear. I think he heard me talking to the police that time because when they came, he wasn't there.
I wasn't allowed to change the lock on my door, and he didn't have any key, but sometimes I'd come into my place and just FEEL things were different, and I'd run. My friends would come back with me to make sure my closets and shower stall were empty. This went on for about 6 months.
He never got into trouble. I had to move.
Stalking is some very serious business. I'm glad I'm not dead or worse.
I've been mildly stalked online, but nobody has shown up at my door or phoned or anything. If someone makes up dozens of profiles and I keep recognizing them for who they really are, it hasn't been a bigger problem than I can handle so far.
I don't have a drop of computer geekiness in my blood, so if someone knows how to monkey with my computer out of revenge, I'll have to give up and go back to reading books instead.
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