The demons inside my head

I woke up one cold winter's morning years ago. I was in love, and I felt wonderful. My love and I had been on the phone the night before and everything seemed fine. It was only weeks previously that we had slept together in this very same bed in which I was now waking up to behold the whiteness and the magnificence of the snowy vista that was the view from my bedroom window. There was not the slightest indication that there might be a problem. I was in love and as I re-entered the bed and curled myself up under the duvet, warm thoughts of this love in my mind, I assumed that this must be what happiness feels like.

This love and I had met nine months before. During that time we had developed the kind of relationship that I had always dreamt of, both of us at par intellectually. The relationship was stimulating and exciting, and the feeling of knowing that this person felt the same as I did was heart-warming. I thought it was a secure place, a place that I hoped would be intact forever. But how wrong I was proved to be, because on this very same day, by sunset, I had received word from this love by email and by phone that unfortunately we would not be continuing with our relationship. In short, I was being told the words "It's over!" An attempt was made at providing an explanation, and the reason given made sense too. We were separated by distance.

But this was a factor we knew about from the onset and one that we had both agreed we would work around, with a view at some point to removing this barrier completely. Somehow, I seemed to have been the bolder more optimistic one, because although I could see no immediate prospect of removing the distance barrier in the foreseeable future, I held on to the hope that our love would see us through. Haven't we all heard that love conquers all? Anyhow, this 'news' hit me like a freight train. I was disbelieving at first and thought it might be just a bad dream. Then I speculated, "No, they couldn't have meant that", trying to make sense of what I'd just been told, you know, trying to rationalise. "They'll soon come to their senses", I would say to myself. But as the hours went by and turned into days, the reality became stronger.

Since I was so mentally and psychologically unprepared for this calamity, the full impact of it was lost on me for a few days yet. But when the pain and the rejection eventually crashed upon me, I was a complete wreck. Its impact on me was that it is likely that I didn't eat a proper meal for weeks, and I have a vague recollection of wandering the streets aimlessly, sometimes not even remembering to wear a coat to keep out the cold. I failed to turn up for work for about a month, and remember once being brought home to my front door in a police patrol car in the middle of the night. I think I must have been found walking alone, dazed, on the deserted street. The fact is that I basically lost my mind.

It took a gargantuan effort on my part to get through this period and to pull myself together. But the pain, always, the pain. It caused me to dig deep into my emotional and mental reserves and forced me to button up, sit down and study for my qualifying exams, which I had been putting off for years. But the emotional wound was deep and it healed very slowly indeed. 

I was never going to let this happen to me ever again, I promised myself. So going forward I seem to have carried with me to any new relationship the baggage from this episode in my life. I am constantly haunted by the fear that this will happen again, and this fear has influenced my conduct within subsequent relationships that I've been in. And I'm not sure if it's a good thing, since I'm constantly treading carefully (perhaps overly) being too fearful to commit and to give my all as I know I'm capable of doing.

I have written this post in the hope that talking about it will purge my mind of this fear. My self-confidence and self-esteem have taken a severe bashing. Its impact upon my life is profound and I have considered seeking some kind of professional help. Sometime this week I'm booked to see a psychiatrist. I guess this sounds like I'm a bit wonky in the head, but really I think it's for the best.

The things people do

He called me and said he wanted to use my computer because his laptop was out of order. I thought this was odd, since the Internet in commercially cheaply available in innumerable places on almost every street. Then I thought perhaps he was trying to save a few quid, but my disquiet heightened sharply when after I'd told him that I would be away at work at the time when he said he'd need to use the computer, he quickly retorted that he would only have to turn up at my doorstep early in the morning before I left home, and that I could then leave the keys of the flat with him..

I left home that morning leaving him in my flat, but with a puzzled frown on my face. Deep down I suspected that he was up to something dubious, but I had no way of knowing what it was. I was trying to be a good friend to a friend who was in need, or so I thought. So I quickly erased all negative thoughts from my mind and focused on my activities for the day ahead. I returned home unusually late that evening and found him still there. I discreetly inspected the flat, but there was nothing to arouse my suspicion or to give an indication as to what he had been up to during my absence. I then dropped him off at home and put the entire episode behind me, although I couldn't stop thinking that it was rather strange that he would insist on using my computer in my flat while I was away. This was almost two weeks ago.

Last evening I was stretched out on the sofa trying to relax after a particularly busy day when my phone rang. I was surprised, since most calls I receive are on the mobile phone. This one was on the landline, a number that only few people have, none of whom I was expecting a call from. I answered the call to hear a strange voice at the other end of the line greeting me familiarly, asking me why he had not heard from me.. Pardon me?? Are you sure you have the correct number?? He then repeats my number to me and asks me if I'm not Tony (not his real name). 

Hearing this I was even more surprised. I explained that I know who Tony is but that he doesn't live at this address. To which this gentleman who called himself Mike said that he had been in the flat two weeks ago and that the said Tony had the keys to the flat. Tony had shown him around, telling him that the flat was his. Tony had used my address to obtain a loan from this person, who I later find out is a loan shark.

It took supreme effort on my part to remain calm as I explained to this gentleman what had really happened on the day Tony showed him into my flat. I tried to explain that I wasn't Tony and that I knew nothing of a loan or what he was talking about. At first Mike was having none of it. He didn't know what Tony and I were up to, he said, but whatever it was, I'd better pay back his money or...at this point what immediately flashed through my mind were those stories I'd heard about people who failed to pay such debts and how they got their kneecaps smashed. I was losing my cool..

This Tony person has been a friend of mine for many years, and I have looked out for him every step of the way. I could hardly believe what I was hearing, but gradually the pieces came together. Now I understood why he had wanted to "use my computer" while I was away. I'd been conned, or to put it more accurately, my so-called friend had betrayed the trust that I had in him. I gave Tony's number to Mike and told him Tony's real address. I then called Tony and expressed my displeasure at what had happened. A few minutes later Mike called me back to say that Tony was not answering his phone. I tried to call Tony again, but as expected his phone was by now switched off.

I have tried to call him several times today and his phone is still switched off. Indeed the message I get when I call his number is "you have dialled an incorrect number...". Driving home this evening, I drove past his building, but his flat was in darkness. I don't know whether to be worried about him, i.e., whether Mike has come down hard on him; or whether the police have invited him to the police station and he's locked up somewhere...but then if that was the case, surely the police would have invited me too to make some kind of statement. 

Then I wonder if perhaps he has gone into hiding. I feel so protective of him and feel sorry that I revealed his real address. But at the same time I'm angry at his callousness and his dishonesty. I really don't know what to think.