I’m Friends With The Monster That’s Under My Bed. Get Along With The Voices Inside Of My Head

Once E was served with divorce papers, he called me freaking out. It took over two months for my lawyer and I to get everything straightened out on paper and all the proper documents filled out, before he was actually notified on April 29, 2014. All the time between my flying back from Kenya and him being served, I think he thought I was joking, or just playing a game, hoping he would change or something. I honestly don’t know why he was so surprised that I actually filed for divorce. When I say I’m going to do something, I do it…

But, those papers started a whole myriad of amazing lies on his part.  Time after time I was left speechless at the items he put in his “sworn statements.” Things he “promised” were the truth, and it just confirmed to me how much of a liar I’d been married too.

First and foremost, he claimed, under oath, that he had caught me IN BED with our farm boy that Sunday morning back in January, but no violence occurred, and so he wanted to divorce me because of that. Seriously? At this point E, I don’t even care as long as I get out of this marriage to you. But then it went on to say that I had beat up his mother when I was trying to leave Kenya (claiming she had suffered a concussion) and that the incident with his father and the van never occurred. Oh common, I have picture evidence! Next, he said that I owed him some $21,000.00 for some reason, yet to still be determined. Haha for real? Dude, you haven’t held a long-term steady job our entire relationship! I’ve paid for practically everything in our lives, meaning houses/land, schooling, cars, and multiples cross-continental trips every time you had a whim that you wanted to move back and forth between Kenya & Canada. If anything you owe me a ridiculous sum of money. But I wasn’t asking for money. All I wanted was a life free from E. As soon as possible.

Life never works out like that though. Because after I left E, his mental health deteriorated quickly. He slowly stopped answering phone calls, and even texts became too much for him. He started missing meetings with his lawyer which delayed everything even more than necessary. I was finally on the phone with him one day after not hearing from him for a while to discuss a court date. I asked him how he was doing, knowing his past problems with anxiety. He shared with me then, that he was too scared to leave his house to even get groceries. I tried my best to convince him to get help, to find a Dr., or someone he felt comfortable confiding in to talk to, but nothing ever came of it.

Then, a couple of weeks later, he went missing. Not answering calls, or texts. He even missed showing up to a prearranged visit with the kids. So I got worried. Just because I no longer wanted to be the man’s wife, didn’t mean I wanted anything bad to happen to him (or anyone). So the search was on. He had been staying with a guy from work, who said he hadn’t seen him in a couple of days (also mentioned to me that E owed him rent money if I felt like paying for him, haha no thanks). I called his work, who said E didn’t show up to the plane to head up to camp for his latest shift. I called some of his family in Kenya, as well as his one brother living in the States… No one had heard from him.

So I ended up calling the police to file a missing person report. I explained that he might be dangerous, and that he didn’t have all his faculties at the moment. They, again, weren’t helpful. They explained that even if they did find him, they couldn’t do anything. E was a grown ass man. If he didn’t want anyone to know where he was, than the police couldn’t inform me of his whereabouts even if they did locate him. Fine. I was just trying to be helpful. It’s the middle of January and I’m thinking he’s out on the streets somewhere, afraid of life and no ones around to help. And so I felt bad. During this time, I felt bad for leaving him. I felt like I had been the stability in his life, and maybe if I had stayed with E, then his illness would’ve never progressed to this point. I felt like my leaving him had “pushed him over the edge” so to speak.

But then a phone call came. It was E, and he was on his way across the country. He told me he had sold everything he owed except what fit in one suitcase, and had bought a bus ticket to Ottawa. What??? WHY??? Oh, C. Don’t ask a mentally ill person to explain their actions… because then you get answers like the following…

He felt like people were out to get him, and so he didn’t feel safe where he was. Umm Ok? Why Ottawa though? Two reasons, he has one old friend from Kenya who lived there, and the Kenyan Embassy was located there. What the heck was the Embassy going to do? You need a Doctor! I couldn’t hear much else over the phone so our call was ended abruptly since the bus was going through a tunnel of sorts, but I knew he was at least alive. I called his family to let them know where he was and to let the friend in Ottawa know to expect E. I had to then call the police and cancel my missing person report, even though I knew they had been putting zero effort into finding him regardless.

Another two months or so went by with no word from E. Until finally one day I receive an email from his email address, but I knew right away it wasn’t him who had written it. “He” asked how the kids were doing and also needed some paperwork from me. I emailed back asking where he had been for the last month, and who was writing his emails and then they whole story came out. Kinda… Well as good as it gets with this man.

According to E, after he got to Ottawa, he somehow found his old rugby buddy and stayed with him for a bit. But the “voices” became too much for him. And the paranoia was so bad, that his friend found him one morning sleeping UNDER the bed to hide from whatever was out to get him. So at that point, his friend took him to the hospital. Where he’s been officially diagnosed with a severe case of paranoid schizophrenia, depression and extreme anxiety. He was locked up in the psych ward, fed a concoction of medication, and hadn’t had access to his phone or email until that day, since he had earned access outside the ward. His therapist had helped him write the initial email to me.

In some ways I felt relieved that he was finally getting help. I felt like it validated my feelings of frustration. Trying for years to make a marriage work. A relationship work. But constantly feeling like I wasn’t getting through. Feeling like he was never listening to me. In a way, he never was. He was listening to all the voices in his head. The voices telling him everyone was against him. That I was against him. It explained a lot, and although it didn’t forgive his behavior, it made me feel like less of a failure. Like I had done all that I could, but he was legitimately ill. I could’ve tried ’til I was blue in the face, but nothing would’ve helped our marriage. Not until he received the proper care he needed, and I and others had continually suggested. And now he was getting it.

E was held in the psychiatric ward in Ottawa for about 4-5 months. The doctors called me a few times asking for a little background information, and informed me of his treatment plan. I had to explain many times that we were no longer a couple and that no, I wouldn’t be helping him once he was released. E ended up staying with his friend in Ottawa for about 3 months once he was released from the ward to maintain his follow up visits. The Doctors wanted to make sure he was continuing up on his medication and counselling, letting me know that there is no cure for his condition, and that he would be on medication for life. Also letting me know that a relapse is likely, and that if there was a history of violence, there was a strong possibility of more violence.

E’s friend was fine with having him stay there, but after a while, I could tell that he was getting a little frustrated with E’s extended stay, and I had to break it down to E in the simplest of terms. He couldn’t live with his friend forever. His friend was married with two kids, and although I’m sure they’d enjoyed this time to catch up, he and his wife probably wanted to get back to their own life. E was able to call his old job and get his previous position back for himself, even though his hours/duties had to be modified as per doctors orders. I was probably just as glad as his friend was for him to start back at work, because I’d been missing out on child support payments for the last 8-9 months.

Now that E is on medication, he is a little more reliable as far as payments for the kids go, but the medication has changed him. He is constantly tired and has gained a solid 75 lbs is not more. His thinking has slowed dramatically and it’s like talking to a kid, which is ironic, because that’s how I felt dealing with him before. When he does get to see our kids (about once a month) he takes them to the same place and just sits there while he watches them play. Actually, now that I think about it… that’s pretty much how he was before minus the weight gain. So not much has changed.

Cest La Vie


-Eminem/Monster-

This Thing Turned Out So Evil, Don’t Know Why I’m Still Surprised 

Filing for divorce was not an easy process. I had some time when I got back to Canada to sort out what I was going to do and how I was going to do it, because E was away at work. He worked at a camp in a remote area so I didn’t have to worry about him for a while. But I knew he wasn’t going to be happy once he was served with papers and so I wanted to make sure the kids and I were safe.

WAY harder than it should’ve been.

I figured I would just explain what had happened in Kenya (and more) and that I wanted to file for divorce and possibly a restraining order and that because of E’s erratic behavior, I didn’t know how he would respond. My mom offered to watch the kids for a couple hours, while I headed to the court to deal with it.

Common! I was denied at every turn. First, I couldn’t file for divorce because we hadn’t been separated for a year yet. Then, I couldn’t get a restraining order because the abuse had happened not only out of the country, but wasn’t recent enough for them to consider it dangerous for myself and the kids now. I was given a crappy lawyer through a program called legal aid, which helps people who can’t really afford to hire full on lawyers themselves, but the thing is, legal aid lawyers don’t give a shit about your case. They make less money than on their other cases and couldn’t care less about your outcome, so they push it to the bottom of their pile.

My lawyer did nothing unless I called or emailed a minimum 4-5 times per situation and even then I had to do all the research myself to make sure everything was being covered. So many times I found things through my research that I would bring up to my lawyer and he’d be like “oh yeah… I didn’t think you needed that” Ummmm I kinda need a custody order in place among so many other things. Anyways.

After 2.5 months I finally got my statement out with my lawyer and E was served with divorce papers. This whole time he never once asked to see the kids or even talk to them on the phone. He would only call or text me to harass me about money or that we should get back together. And I actually thought about it often.

Until one day I came back to my parents house after dropping the kids off at the day home to get some things before I headed to school. It seemed fine at first, I walked in the front door as per usual, and no one else was home, like I expected. But then I saw the back patio door was open and my stomach was in my throat so fast. It normally takes a lot to get me scared or rattle me but when I saw that door… I can honestly say there was a fear like I’ve never known that crept in. I knew E had finished his shift up north recently and was in the city now but other than that I didn’t know where he was staying or what he was up to, and in that moment, I thought he had broken into my parents house.

I called my mom to see where she was and why the door was open… but she was sure she had left it closed/locked. Now my heart is pounding. I’m in stealth mode now. I slowly and methodically checked in every closet, behind every door and under all the beds. I even went out to the yard and dug around the bushes. Then back into the house to do it all again. I checked places that I KNEW there was no logical way E could even fit into! But I looked anyway. Behind shower curtains and under stairs, all the while trying to calm my breathing so it wasn’t to loud and slow my heart which I thought would pound right out of my chest at any moment.

He obviously wasn’t anywhere in the house. But my mind was too far gone. I had been having nightmares about him stealing the kids and taking them back to Kenya since we’d been back. Or breaking through my window at night and beating me to death. And in that moment, because of that stupid open door, I felt my nightmares had alive.

I realized that day how deep the damage E had caused in me. And even though I had filed for divorce and had been trying to stay strong, keeping the kids away and ignoring all the manipulative texts… a part of me had still been considering getting back together with him. Until that day. I now realized was scared of him. My body had never reacted so dramatically in fear to anything before this point, and not ever since.

It was that day I knew it didn’t matter how many years or ridiculous accusations or drawn out conversations it took. I was done with E. Forever.


-Rihanna/Love the Way You Lie Part 2-