I never really wanted to write fully about this but a conversation with a friend had me thinking about it. This is about Robert James VanDeMark (Storm). The man who ruined me.
I was working for a telemarketing company. I was not dating at the time. Was not really interested. I had decided one day to hang out after work instead of going home to my moms house. I had a guy who chatted me up frequently named Jeremy. While I was talking to Jeremy, Storm came near. At first he was just listening in. But after a few minutes and getting closer her had found his way into our conversation. Jeremy, not liking him much, had to get home and left us standing there. We talked for maybe 10 min when I left too. The next day Storm was everywhere I was. He wrote me a note saying he thought I was an ice queen and was scared to approach me. It was awhile before I finally accepted a date from him. I am someone who dates for the inside and not the outside. The hot guys are always into themselves. He was nicely put together. The dating started really nice. Never had been treated like he treated me. Nobody has treated me like this since. Enough to make a girl swoon. Opening doors for me, pulling out my seat, walking with his arm around my waist. He also paid for everything and was extremely protective of me. He bought me gifts. Stupid small stuff like fake flowers or my favorite candy. He treated me like a trophy. Couldn't keep his hands off of me. I felt wanted. He took me to concerts to see people that I loved and even took me horseback riding. It was incredible. I was on cloud 9. We were down right naughty together too. Had sex everywhere, underage drinking at the bars, smoking pot. We ended up moving in together. We both worked. Started using stronger drugs. Mostly did it to stay awake for the jobs. We would go in at 6am get off at 3. Then we would go in at 5pm for the second job and get off at 1am. We worked at a temp agency. Everyone who worked with us would come back to our place to party. We had booze and food and drugs.
It was in the apartment when his demeanor changed. All was good for a month then he started getting abusive. I don't only mean physically but also sexually and emotionally.
It started out sexually. It was not like I never gave it up but apparently I did not give it up enough. He would throw me to the couch and rape me. Every position anywhere. In the pool in the neighbors bed, in the backseat of his car, even in the bushes or behind dumpsters. I even snuck away at work to satisfy him. We had sex so often that it rubbed my insides raw. It hurt to pee and walk. Thank god that I was doing drugs. A lot of times he would flip me over and get me from behind too, dry. I would fight him on this and he would punch me in the head. I eventually just started laying there, crying into a pillow, and hoping it would end soon. The tears and the screaming just angered him more. I was slapped and punched plenty during intercourse. My hair pulled. Cloth shoved into my mouth to keep me quiet. My ribs and head were bruised. Later my legs started getting hit too. Thank god for make up and long sleeve shirts. I am thankful he never wanted to share me with his friends. I was forced to walk around the house naked so that I was always ready. Which seemed like every 5 minutes. I spent some days numb. In our sexual encounters he started calling me ugly, fat and covering my face with a pillow so he would not have to look at me. Then he would go into the bathroom when he thought I was asleep and masturbate. I questioned him on this and got put in my place. I lived our relationship in pain and constantly stoned.
The physical aspect of the relationship was all day every day. He would pull my hair to get me out of his way or shove me into a wall. I got quick on my feet. Aside from the beatings during sex he started, I guess I would call it training me, to be the perfect woman. It began with throwing me to the floor and kicking me every time I tried to stand up. This was him teaching me that my place is on the floor at his feet. I would get kicked again or slapped in the mouth if I spoke out of turn. That's also when he started aggressively jerking me around everywhere. If I was not moving quickly enough he would reach back and grab my arm or my hair and yank me next to him. It turned out that he liked me walking behind him and made it a rule that I should always walk 4 feet behind him with my head down. I was ok with this. It stopped the yanking and I wasn't within reach of his fist. The next step of training was the house. I was to have the house clean, dinner ready, and things prepared for our guests. We always had guests. I was not to eat with him. I would serve him then retreat to the kitchen and serve any guests. There I would eat and wait for his command. I barely ate. He was always calling on me. Once he was done, I was done. Whether I was done eating or not. (This is probably where my unhealthy addiction to Davids Original Sunflower Seeds came about.) I was to clean it up and play hostess. After our guests would leave he would correct me at what I had done wrong.
The abuse did not just stop there. After sex we always had a cigarette. I would lay naked in the bed with the ashtray on my leg, belly or breast. He would miss a lot of times and the ash would hit my skin. Or he would put the cigarette out on me. Again quick reflexes. I still have some of the scars. I actually have more that you know about. But can only be viewed in direct sunlight. Those are from him cutting me because he was pissed off. He was not very good with a knife thankfully, he never got deep. He hit me with hangers if I was too slow. He favored the broken fishing pole. When I could run that thing was capable of making contact every time. My legs got to experience it the most. I could scale furniture like a cat.
After he had me trained he then started cheating on me. He slept with 3 girls from our apartment complex, 2 of my friends, and our 50 something crack addict drug supplier. I caught him with her on a run for getting more drugs. Was walking in from the back and saw her and him through the bedroom window. That is when I finally lost it. I returned home and began hiding packing. All the furniture belonged to me so that was going to be harder to move. He walked in as I was almost finished. I regret now not making up a lie. He really let me have it. Threw me against the wall and kicked and punched me. Grabbed my hair and flung me to the bed, ripping out a nice chunk. He made his point very clear that I was in the wrong.
I was finally able to get away from him. I went into hiding at a friends house. I was terrified of sex and any guy that looked at me with interest scared the hell out of me. It was a year before I had any physical contact with another male. I kept with my programming. Mouth shut, walk behind, sit on the floor. When Jerry and I started getting more involved a lot of my training came through. Most he did not seem to mind. I still sit at his feet, have food ready and house clean when he gets home from work, and give up sex on almost every request. When he gets pissed off and starts yelling I just cower and cover. He has never laid a hand on me but the fear will be forever.
I was working for a telemarketing company. I was not dating at the time. Was not really interested. I had decided one day to hang out after work instead of going home to my moms house. I had a guy who chatted me up frequently named Jeremy. While I was talking to Jeremy, Storm came near. At first he was just listening in. But after a few minutes and getting closer her had found his way into our conversation. Jeremy, not liking him much, had to get home and left us standing there. We talked for maybe 10 min when I left too. The next day Storm was everywhere I was. He wrote me a note saying he thought I was an ice queen and was scared to approach me. It was awhile before I finally accepted a date from him. I am someone who dates for the inside and not the outside. The hot guys are always into themselves. He was nicely put together. The dating started really nice. Never had been treated like he treated me. Nobody has treated me like this since. Enough to make a girl swoon. Opening doors for me, pulling out my seat, walking with his arm around my waist. He also paid for everything and was extremely protective of me. He bought me gifts. Stupid small stuff like fake flowers or my favorite candy. He treated me like a trophy. Couldn't keep his hands off of me. I felt wanted. He took me to concerts to see people that I loved and even took me horseback riding. It was incredible. I was on cloud 9. We were down right naughty together too. Had sex everywhere, underage drinking at the bars, smoking pot. We ended up moving in together. We both worked. Started using stronger drugs. Mostly did it to stay awake for the jobs. We would go in at 6am get off at 3. Then we would go in at 5pm for the second job and get off at 1am. We worked at a temp agency. Everyone who worked with us would come back to our place to party. We had booze and food and drugs.
It was in the apartment when his demeanor changed. All was good for a month then he started getting abusive. I don't only mean physically but also sexually and emotionally.
It started out sexually. It was not like I never gave it up but apparently I did not give it up enough. He would throw me to the couch and rape me. Every position anywhere. In the pool in the neighbors bed, in the backseat of his car, even in the bushes or behind dumpsters. I even snuck away at work to satisfy him. We had sex so often that it rubbed my insides raw. It hurt to pee and walk. Thank god that I was doing drugs. A lot of times he would flip me over and get me from behind too, dry. I would fight him on this and he would punch me in the head. I eventually just started laying there, crying into a pillow, and hoping it would end soon. The tears and the screaming just angered him more. I was slapped and punched plenty during intercourse. My hair pulled. Cloth shoved into my mouth to keep me quiet. My ribs and head were bruised. Later my legs started getting hit too. Thank god for make up and long sleeve shirts. I am thankful he never wanted to share me with his friends. I was forced to walk around the house naked so that I was always ready. Which seemed like every 5 minutes. I spent some days numb. In our sexual encounters he started calling me ugly, fat and covering my face with a pillow so he would not have to look at me. Then he would go into the bathroom when he thought I was asleep and masturbate. I questioned him on this and got put in my place. I lived our relationship in pain and constantly stoned.
The physical aspect of the relationship was all day every day. He would pull my hair to get me out of his way or shove me into a wall. I got quick on my feet. Aside from the beatings during sex he started, I guess I would call it training me, to be the perfect woman. It began with throwing me to the floor and kicking me every time I tried to stand up. This was him teaching me that my place is on the floor at his feet. I would get kicked again or slapped in the mouth if I spoke out of turn. That's also when he started aggressively jerking me around everywhere. If I was not moving quickly enough he would reach back and grab my arm or my hair and yank me next to him. It turned out that he liked me walking behind him and made it a rule that I should always walk 4 feet behind him with my head down. I was ok with this. It stopped the yanking and I wasn't within reach of his fist. The next step of training was the house. I was to have the house clean, dinner ready, and things prepared for our guests. We always had guests. I was not to eat with him. I would serve him then retreat to the kitchen and serve any guests. There I would eat and wait for his command. I barely ate. He was always calling on me. Once he was done, I was done. Whether I was done eating or not. (This is probably where my unhealthy addiction to Davids Original Sunflower Seeds came about.) I was to clean it up and play hostess. After our guests would leave he would correct me at what I had done wrong.
The abuse did not just stop there. After sex we always had a cigarette. I would lay naked in the bed with the ashtray on my leg, belly or breast. He would miss a lot of times and the ash would hit my skin. Or he would put the cigarette out on me. Again quick reflexes. I still have some of the scars. I actually have more that you know about. But can only be viewed in direct sunlight. Those are from him cutting me because he was pissed off. He was not very good with a knife thankfully, he never got deep. He hit me with hangers if I was too slow. He favored the broken fishing pole. When I could run that thing was capable of making contact every time. My legs got to experience it the most. I could scale furniture like a cat.
After he had me trained he then started cheating on me. He slept with 3 girls from our apartment complex, 2 of my friends, and our 50 something crack addict drug supplier. I caught him with her on a run for getting more drugs. Was walking in from the back and saw her and him through the bedroom window. That is when I finally lost it. I returned home and began hiding packing. All the furniture belonged to me so that was going to be harder to move. He walked in as I was almost finished. I regret now not making up a lie. He really let me have it. Threw me against the wall and kicked and punched me. Grabbed my hair and flung me to the bed, ripping out a nice chunk. He made his point very clear that I was in the wrong.
I was finally able to get away from him. I went into hiding at a friends house. I was terrified of sex and any guy that looked at me with interest scared the hell out of me. It was a year before I had any physical contact with another male. I kept with my programming. Mouth shut, walk behind, sit on the floor. When Jerry and I started getting more involved a lot of my training came through. Most he did not seem to mind. I still sit at his feet, have food ready and house clean when he gets home from work, and give up sex on almost every request. When he gets pissed off and starts yelling I just cower and cover. He has never laid a hand on me but the fear will be forever.
