One thing I haven’t written about yet is the anger that Andy leaves in his wake. Not really, not with the gutting honesty I usually use. The shame, the fear, the sadness…those things are far easier to admit. The rage isn’t funny. And for a long time I have been very careful to keep it out of my posts, because I didn’t want to be vengeful in words or actions. I didn’t want to bolster Andy’s “bitter ex-girlfriend” defenses, or be carried away by a “tsunami of rage” like Jeanine was.
I’d rather just keep my head above water.
But the rage is a very real and healthy part of being out of the Cult of Andy – and for anyone who has escaped an abuser. It was in discussing this with a former DAYDian that I realized I had a more appropriate resource – my old LiveJournal, which I started within a month of leaving Andy.
This is a picture taken the same day the notorious FauxPology was posted.
When I got out, the urge to start writing again – for myself instead of as part of my therapy – was very strong. I knew it was essential to find my own voice again. Writing had been a central part of me until it was simply drowned out by Andy’s fantasy world, and it was the first place I knew I could rebuild.
The second place to rebuild was community theater. I was Truvy in this show. The wig was enormous.
It was hard to get started. I had been without computer for years and felt overwhelmed with these MyFace and SpaceBook things. Worse, I was absolutely terrified that either Andy or Jeanine (who was still fully convinced I was an accomplice) would find me. I didn’t want to be connected to my old handle anyway (Orangeblossom), because I didn’t feel at all connected to my former self. Kumquat was a nickname my childhood best friend gave me, and I was pretty sure that it was obscure enough that no one would know. Since that handle was taken, I added “Writer” and tiptoed back into LiveJournal, starting the long, slow process of reconnecting with the world.
Not just online; I made friends in the real world too, and learned how normal adults socialize.
Sharing these old posts isn’t just hubris; Diamond has thanked me more than once for showing her. And the fresh pain in those is a lot more helpful to someone just going through it than my calmer, reasoned, post-therapy writing. Even a year ago, they were far too raw and open to share. But after all the forgiveness and reconciliation that’s come; after so many people have told their stories, it’s time.
Pic unrelated.
I haven’t unlocked the whole thing; I’ve kept private things that were too irrelevant – or too intimate – to ever post publicly. You can read through it chronologically starting here. If you would prefer, the posts I feel are most important are below.
June 5, 2007 This is one of the earliest posts where I was trying to separate myself from Andy’s world.
July 1, 20007 This is the first time I talked about being a victim while most people thought I was nothing but a con artist. A lot of pain and sadness there.
In August, my shrink deemed me ready to start dating. I was starting to meet people through a dating site.
August 2, 2007 A description of an incredibly vivid nightmare I had, ultimately repeatedly for several years. My dreams have always been quite literal.
September 27, 2007 Pain and frustration over yet another attempt on Andy’s part to get me back.
That job rocked for a while, even if I did sometimes have to serve coffee to people I hated in high school.
November 19, 2007 Still being contacted but less angry, more distanced. Outside of LiveJournal, I was holding down a full-time job and had bought myself a car.
February 18, 2008 Feelings about Jeanine. This is also after Andy sent me a massive pile of Valentine’s Day stuff. This is also a few months into my relationship with my husband. (link fixed)
New Year’s Eve, 2007/2008. No idea which year this was taken, as evidenced by Captain Morgan over there.
February 26, 2008 Final direct contact with Andy, when I called him from my now-husband’s phone to tell him I was never coming back.
I realize that Andy’s defenders (and likely Andy himself) will howl about how that was ever so long ago and he has totally changed this time for real. However, the fact that people contacting me, asking for this kind of help (you know, how to deal with Andy treating them the same way he treated me) means they aren’t irrelevant. These are people who got out within the last three years.
Three years ago, we took a belated honeymoon. Not only does Chip know my past, he went to see it himself.
Off the Rails 
A few weeks ago, I never heard of Andrew Blake. I read his meta because it kept popping up in my tumbler. I spent hours going through his mesmerizing and disorienting blog. The intensity and the energy was fascinating, but the content is repulsive. The massive ego, the superiority complex, stupid stuff about his changing accent, pleas for understanding while humblebragging. The unhealthy obsession with porning up some actors. The art is terrible and amateur, and his sycophants eat up the badly painted photoshops like he’s some kind of old master. Pretensions of superior knowledge of all things Supernatural. He’s the worst kind of Big Name Fan. I felt like I needed to clear my aura when I was finished, like I’d touched something ugly.
I came to your blog because I searched out Andy to find out who this wanker was. And now I know.
Shudder. Reading that letter you got from him in 2007 gave me the willies. It is written with such seriousness that it took me a second to remember that “Zack and John” were not real people, just part of Andrew’s fantasy. As I’ve thought for a couple of years now: thank goodness (and your awesome mom and family) that you got away from him.
Seeing the hubby, and what a great guy he is…
Boy, did you trade up!
Good on you.
Thank you.
It’s taken so long to become accepting of the anger that can come along with getting out. And it’s so comforting to know that other people have been in the same exact place and have come out on the other side and have a good life.
Its a hard low to come back from. I think the anger and rage is a powerful force towards healing, because anger spurrs action. The trick is making sure those actions are healthy!
One thing I have wondered through reading your various entries was about Andy’s creepy factor. You have mentioned it several times about how some people are just instantly turned off by him; that they pick up on something that just says Stay Away. Since you see it now, I’ve wondered did you always see it and just overlooked it since you had an online relationship before face-to-face contact so you brushed it off, never saw it until you got out, or was it just a realization that came with time and more interaction?
After much thought, I can say that I didn’t see it early enough, and by the time I *could* see it, I was deep enough to think it was what made our relationship special – because I UNDERSTOOD him in a super special way.
Its a lot easier to see the flags when you’ve been conned by someone already, too.
Hey, even if he has totally changed this time for real, it is just fine for you to not want to deal with Andy any more.
I don’t know you but reading about how well you’re doing, away from the crazy, is just so happy-making.
I still count myself remarkably lucky that I was never drawn into the really deep, psychologically disturbing stuff, but after I left our place in San Dimas I was filled with rage, regret, sadness, almost every emotion I’d felt up to that point. I never really made a big deal out of it, but all of the going down of the shit that I was privy to happened in the six months after my dad’s death. Hell, we moved to Salem with a couple of weeks after he died. Its really weird to say, but being with you all, and throwing myself into work was the only thing that really kept me going. I’ve never been a fan of lying/being lied to, and in friends/relationships of all kinds, honesty is the most important thing to me. Knowing how much I was being lied to while it was happening only made the crazy researchy Jason brain go overboard, so much so that, when Detective Myers finally told me for the last time that it was either tell them for sure that I knew where “Amy” was or run the risk of being an murder suspect if she really was dead. That stupid letter from Lincoln City thing apparently had explain how bad a person I was and how I wanted to take over BOE and try to push “Amy” out. Which came as quite a shock to me, as I thought of myself as a cog, not a foundation… Also came as quite a shock that Jordan had done such a thing AFTER seeking my advice on how to fake ones own death… I had, over the run of our living in Salem and then San Dimas, alternately convinced myself that Jordan was a transgender person that was just not comfortable enough with me to reveal this fact and that at some point he would if he ever felt the need to. But the lies took their toll (feline testical attacks, constantly hurting his balls, etc). In the end I was willing, still to forgive ALL of that for my friends until that stupid, staged suicide attempt. THAT was the thing that pushed me well over the edge. I remember being on the way up to Portland to start work on prepping the Convention Center for TentMoot (which I knew had sold jack all for tickets and that it was going to be a flop, but fuck if it was going to be a flop because of me…) landing in SFO for a layover, calling, hearing that everything was ok, and moving forward as planned, getting on a plane to PDX and then calling again to hear of the suicide attempt… I don’t take suicide lightly… My dad went that way… I’d tried to go that way several times… I don’t think of it as a joke, or something to play at… And I REALLY didnt think so less than 6 months after my dad… That was the straw that let my pent up rage out. That was what had me carrying that anger for quite a while.
Anyway, that was longer than I’d meant it to be, its not every day that I get to talk about the whole thing… but I love you kid, and miss you, and wish you well spreading the gospel of avoiding sociopathic douchebags…
You are quality goods, BobWulf, and as the very first person to forgive me with open arms (aside from Mom), not to mention as a kickass friend ever since… Well, as Spock put it, I am, and ever shall be, your friend.
Thanks for pointing out that these entries were written back before you and I reconciled matters. Obviously I could have looked at the dates and realize that, but I was still glad to have been prepared a little.
I remember hearing that you and That Person Whose Birth Name was Amy Player had broken up, but, having become accustomed to distrusting every. single. word. associated with your EX, I had no idea if this news was true. But more importantly, I still believed you were completely in cahoots with EX. So what difference did it make if the “partners in crime” had parted ways, right? That just meant twice as much potential for trouble, since you’d be acting separately instead of together.
I don’t remember how I found out, though. Someone told me, obviously, but I don’t remember who. Heck, it might have been Amy Player in her Fauxpology.
It makes me sad to read your entry about feeling hounded by the Turimel Tsunami of Rage after you split with EX. You were probably right to keep to yourself–I don’t know how I would have reacted to any attempt to explain your side of things. When you did finally extend an olive branch to me in 2011, it was relatively easy to believe your side of the story, BECAUSE you’d spent the past 5 years actually living a different life from the narcissistic manipulations in which your “EX” continues to wallow. When you’ve told lies, walking the walk means a lot more than talking the talk, ya know?
It’s pretty amazing to read those entries and see how hard you really had to stretch and grow, as a person, to get beyond all the shit that EX put you through. You’ve really kicked ass, Abbey. You and Cherie, both. I’m proud of you.
Thanks, Jeanine. I figured you’d understand (as you really are far more compassionate than your intrawebz rep says). But its never fun to read the old stuff.