The following article explores my firsthand experience with what I now perceive to be a “Love Bite,” a term coined by Eve Lorgen, who is an author, anomalous trauma researcher, counselor, and protégé of the legendary Barbara Bartholic. Eve has written two books exploring this topic: “The Love Bite: Alien Interference of Human Love Relationships” and “The Dark Side of Cupid,” which are available through her website: https://evelorgen.com/.
My Experience with the “Love Bite”
The New Age/New Cage teaches followers to not look at the past because it’s over. However, it fails to mention that the past will run the present and the future, when left unchecked and unhealed. I will describe this in more detail, as it relates to the sexual abuse that I experienced at age three, in which I had to surrender to the two perpetrators, as my efforts to fight back were futile. At that time, I learned to just be the victim and, as such, my acceptance of this victim role continued to play out in my life in different ways over several decades.
One of these ways was a relationship I feel was a love bite situation, which occurred during 2001-2003, over a timeline of approximately one and a half to two years – although while living through it, it felt like a decade. My family and I still find it hard to believe that this relationship was relatively short. Its effects were long lasting and the person I will refer to as “Derek” (pseudonym) kept reappearing in my life, years after I ended the relationship.
I would like to take accountability for my part in this relationship – I did not end it the moment it started, even though there were clear signs that it was not healthy. I was naive about “bad people” actually existing in this world and had absolutely no clue about the hyperdimensional aspect or Neg (negative) interference at play. I was nineteen and starting out on my own, moving away six hours from my hometown to attend university in a much larger city and, looking back, this time period in my life could have been the beginning of me really coming into my own and breaking free of the programming of my upbringing and societal expectations. Additionally, I believed that loving a person could go a long way in helping them grow and heal. I was completely wrong.
Derek entered my life in the spring of 2001, as a co-worker at one of my first jobs and we began a relationship, slightly before I moved to university. As well, during this time a series of unfortunate events occurred in my life, over a time period of less than 2 years:
My beloved cat died unexpectedly – he was only 4 years old; my dad had an extramarital affair and moved many provinces away, when he had been a great father and support system throughout my life; my grandma died in November of 2002; and my grandpa, who had stepped in as a father figure when my dad left, died in March of 2003. These events were not specifically related to Derek, however, I want to paint a picture of the emotional space I found myself in. Add to that this abusive relationship and, knowing now what I know about the unseen things that manipulate our lives, I question how all of this could be a complete coincidence.
Additionally during this time:
I survived a violent rape attempt by a friend, which left me badly scratched, bleeding, shaken, and humiliated.
I experienced several stalking situations involving random men following me home after I got off the city bus or train and even following me when I’d change trains or buses. In addition, a man, who was in his mid to late twenties, came into the store I worked at in a shopping mall and took it upon himself to aggressively shove me into a back storage room to kiss me, when I was the only employee working at the store that night. Thankfully this incident was prevented from developing further, as customers came into the store and I was able to escape to assist them, while this man fled. Afterwards, this same man would call my workplace to comment on the outfit I was wearing and how I looked, to both me and my coworkers, from an unseen location, on numerous occasions.
Also, during this time, I made a choice to radically change my studies, after experiencing racism and discrimination from a professor who was teaching a language class I was taking.
As these instances of harassment increased, so did the stress and mental issues I experienced, which culminated in me later receiving a diagnosis of Social Anxiety Disorder and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
After entering this relationship with Derek, I started acting differently:
My confidence decreased, as I began believing the things he said about me. I was not fat, but he had me convinced I was. He’d purposely tell me who he found attractive on TV and they were always the complete opposite of my physique. My hygiene decreased and mimicked his; my intake of sugar, alcohol and drugs increased significantly; and I played with dangerous things I normally wouldn’t have – such as the Ouija board.
My existing mental health conditions worsened: I developed OCD tendencies, such as excessive cleaning, and a need to control whatever I could. The rest of my life seemed out of control. This was a time in which I cut my wrists often, which occurred in the bathroom, and I felt goaded on to commit suicide and would write hateful words directed towards myself on my arms in my blood. Despite all the pressure I was under, my desire to live pushed through. Derek used to yell at me from the other side of the bathroom door, encouraging me to kill myself and would fuel my angst by shouting things like, “Just do it already!”
I was working and going to school full-time and he was a professional freeloader.
- Upon meeting him, he had a strong body odor that repelled other people, but I noticed it and pretended it didn’t exist. Looking back, I feel I overlooked this malodorousness due to an unhealed desire to be kind to others, even at my own expense.
- He had a bad reputation in our community and was not well-liked. He was not part of the crowd I hung out with, nor was he someone I would ever hang out with, but I was drawn to him. In fact, he talked about being friends with people who were good friends of mine, but when I mentioned to my friends that I was dating him, they had no clue who he was.
- He had a “difficult” upbringing and a questionable past:
- There were seven siblings in his family and all of them had been through the child welfare system.
- All siblings learned to do whatever they needed to do, to survive.
- He’d tell stories of his mom having parties and, when everyone passed out, she’d wake up the kids to steal from the guests’ pockets.
- He had spent time in and out of juvi and adult jail.
- As a youth, he’d been charged with “sexual interference on a minor,” but convinced me that he had “just spanked his younger brother” and that the justice system had misinterpreted it.
- Over time, I came to learn of a history of incest amongst the siblings, as well as physical and emotional abuse passed down from the parents and their varying sexual partners to the children.
This horrible upbringing of his – his victim-hood – was what really drew me in. I recall looking at him while he was sleeping and wondering how someone could hurt another human being in the ways he’d been hurt. My heart ached that he had been through those things. I thought he was like me. He absolutely wasn’t.
I was taking Criminology classes at university at that time and Derek just happened to fit the profile of a psychopath that we had learned about from an excellent professor who had worked on police forces throughout the world.
Some of those qualities were:
- He was a master manipulator (but only with people he could really twist the empathy on. A regular guy, like my life partner, would see through his BS). He would make up having diseases to garner sympathy from others. He understood on some level how to manipulate people’s weaknesses. This is why I think he was entity infested – he did not have a high IQ and was in a lower level class in high school.
- He lacked a conscience and empathy and, looking back, I noticed he would always turn things around on someone else. For example, if he stole someone’s money, he would say, “Well, it was stupid of them to leave it out. They shouldn’t have done that.”
- He engaged in crimes of opportunity.
- He was a narcissist.
When Derek got really angry, he would blackout. The first time I witnessed this was in my hometown before I moved. He was enraged at his brother, punched a stop sign, blacked out, and started seizing on the pavement. He was in emergency over night, while they ran tests, and remained in the hospital for days.
Another time, when living on the University campus, I sent him to the store, while my cousin and I visited. When Derek returned, he burst through the door, hysterical that someone had stabbed him. It did appear that someone slashed his face with a knife, and instead of going into the store to seek immediate medical attention, he ran all the way home, eight blocks or more. His face was bleeding and he claimed someone had asked him for money and, when he declined, they slashed his face. Looking back, I wonder if he actually approached someone, who fended him off instead. He was shaking and near blacking out and I knew a seizure would follow. Then he opened a mickey of vodka and chugged it. My cousin and I rushed him to the hospital. Drama followed him everywhere. Everyone was always out to get him, when in reality, he was most often out to get others.
He told few truths during our relationship. He was an expert at lying and when I called him out on it, he’d twist it around, discombobulate everything, and turn it around on me. As such, I gained firsthand experience with gaslighting and began believing I was wrong and totally crazy. Everything was inverted.
There were random women calling my home to threaten me and to tell me to leave him alone. They’d call me a psycho bitch, make fun of my physical features, tell me to move out already, and berate me. He was able to convince me of some untruth when it came to who those women were and I believed it.
One time, when he was away from home, I talked to one of these raging ladies, managed to calm her down, and explained that I was his girlfriend, he lived with me, and I paid the bills. After some conversation, in which we forged a bond against him, I mentioned that several items of my clothing and jewelry had gone missing. She told me that he’d been giving her gifts and we discovered he was giving my stuff to her and her stuff to me. No wonder the gifts didn’t smell new or have price tags attached.
He cheated on me throughout our relationship and had me convinced that I was at fault for distrusting him. I played the game back and cheated on him to get revenge.
I found several pictures of youngish looking women hiding in his bag. He always had a bag packed and I had my suspicions about his activities, so I snooped. He also had screenshots of various women from the internet. He often chatted over webcam to random people, when I was at school or away, and I found several pictures of his penis, also.
One time, I left town to visit my family and returned to find my things in weird places. There was eyeshadow in the cutlery drawer and lipstick on glasses in a shade I didn’t wear, which he didn’t even bother to clean and put away. He’d stashed photos of my friends & I, which I had on the walls, in the closet.
He stole money and other goods (clothing, jewelry, who knows what else) from me. Without my knowledge, one day he put a receipt into a deposit envelope, deposited it into my bank account, and withdrew several hundred dollars that I didn’t even have. I had to deal with an angry bank and prove I was not part of the crime.
Physically, Sexually and Emotionally Abusive
He used to run at me with large kitchen knives and would turn them at the last minute and laugh at my terror.
Sexually, he had strangulation and rape fantasies that he would enact on me.
At this time in my life, I am very sensitive to violence, but during this relationship I became physically abusive also. He brought out a rage in me that I didn’t know existed. One time, I remember jumping off my bed across the room at him (I lived in a bachelor pad, so everything was in one room) with the intent to punch him in the face. I was so angry and incoherent, I missed. He stood there laughing at me, which aggravated me further. I remember feeling like such a failure for missing him.
He would flat-out lie about being high or drunk. One time, I hid his weed in one of my socks in my sock drawer, because he’d used money he’d stolen from me to buy it, and I went to work. He came to my workplace in full psycho-mode, interrogating me to find out where it was. He also brought and used crack in my home.
When he finally got a job, he worked at the same mall I worked at. He was investigated one time, when one of his female coworkers went missing after work. He was the last person to see her. I’m not certain what came out of the investigation, although to my knowledge, it didn’t develop further, which I interpreted as the coworker being OK.
I became obsessed with learning about serial killers and viewing crime scene photos, which I would find disturbing to look at now. I went down a very dark path and needed to see that stuff. I felt like I was losing myself. I even felt inspired to contact serial killers to understand and tell their story, although I didn’t actually do this. I was being led towards a vastly different career path than I had ever envisioned for myself. Thankfully, it did not materialize, as it would’ve been another measure to keep me under control.
Throughout all of this, I began to lose several long-term friends and spiraled down mentally. I had a Britney Spears moment, which actually lasted several years, and dyed my hair black. Looking back at those pictures of me during that time period, I don’t even look like myself. I don’t think I was me – and when I review all of these events today, it feels like all of these things happened to someone else.
I wrote in a journal that “if something suspicious happens to me and I die unexpectedly, to look to Derek [and I listed his full name] because he did it.” I told friends and family where I hid it, in case something happened. I was convinced he would kill me.
I was hoping that someone would come and save me, but no one did. I didn’t reach out to others, because I’d become protective of him, so I had to learn to save myself.
After the incident in which I discovered eyeshadow in my cutlery drawer and all the weird anomalies around my home, I documented everything, so I had proof. Derek was big on evidence, having been through the court system so frequently.
When he went to work at his latest job-of-the-month at a bowling alley, I packed up all of his stuff, and I had a friend drop it off at his workplace. When Derek called, I told him it was over, to leave me alone, and hung up.
I had a friend stay with me that night because I knew he’d come back. I lived in an apartment style building on the ground floor. Sure enough, when Derek finished his shift, he showed up, pounding on the door, screaming, and freaking out. My friend and I had been sleeping, so the lights were off. We pretended we weren’t there, but he wouldn’t go away.
I called my mom, while all of this was happening, and she warned me that he was “like a magician and would use his bag of tricks to get back into my life” and to “not let him back in.” This was remarkably astute of her and gave me strength to get through the next phase. He was screaming outside of my window that he would kill me and my family.
The next morning, I got up to go to school and he was still out there, wanting back in and up to his same tricks. He would be nice. When that didn’t work, he’d threaten. And repeat.
I called campus security so I could safely leave my home to attend my class. The university actually has their own police force. They came and detained him. As I walked to my class, I saw three officers escorting him off campus. He saw me and lunged at me, his eyes full of rage.
I had a friend walk me home after class. When we thought I was safe, she let me go the rest of the way alone. Of course he was waiting behind a tree. I talked to him outside. He told me he knew that I called the cops on him. When he was detained, he had asked the officers who reported him and their response was, “It wasn’t your ex-girlfriend.” Way to go on their end in terms of protecting and serving in that instance.
I found it was difficult to not let him back in. Off and on for the next several months, he’d call me crying, trying everything to get back into my life. He was going to kill himself. He never did. When alternating between being nice and threatening me didn’t work, he attempted to generate guilt by telling me he was going to die and that I was the cause of it.
Over time, it got easier and easier. I even thought we could be friends, but I should have known it was not possible. In 2007 or 2008, he contacted me. I lived in a different place with two roommates who were out of town. He had no where to stay for the night, so I let him stay with me. We imbibed in marijuana and relaxed and watched TV. He had no cigarettes, so I shared mine with him. I even fed him supper. I gave him my roommate’s bed to sleep in. I had recently adopted the kitty I have now and had been reading about and practicing telepathy with him for several weeks, which became a major factor in the incident that followed.
In the middle of the night, while sleeping on my stomach, I woke up to find my air supply being cut off. Derek was on top of me, trying to anally rape me, and his hands were around my throat, strangling me. As I started to lose consciousness and was unable to scream, I communicated with my cat that I needed help. He latched into Derek’s Achilles with his teeth and claws, and did not let go, until Derek got off of me. I stood up and screamed at Derek to get out. I then locked my cat and myself in my bedroom, which was the only thing I could think to do, to keep us safe in that moment. The next morning, I woke up and went downstairs to have a coffee and a cigarette. Derek had stolen my smokes (I even had a unopened pack), all of my money, and all of my weed, after his attack the night before. It was then that I finally saw his character. By their fruits, you shall know them. I just hadn’t wanted to see it before.
We didn’t talk after that. That final incident showed me who he was and that you can’t change a leopard’s spots. About a year later, he contacted me on Facebook and told me he didn’t even plan on doing what had happened and that he was sorry. I never responded to him.
I’ve seen him since that incident, one time, back in my hometown, years later. I nearly had an out-of-body experience, I was so surprised to see him. I don’t think he saw me.
I learned so much from this entire situation, but I think one of the most important lessons was coming to the understanding that the shadow can manifest as so-called “good” qualities, such as being empathetic of others, which can also translate into:
Sacrificing the self at the sake of others;
Not believing in one’s worthiness;
Not knowing who you are;
Being kind to others, regardless of how they treat you;
And accepting a victim-role.
I believed I deserved to be treated like that. I believed I was flawed and that I had a victim sign on my forehead. When I finally realized I did not and that I could change what was happening to me, by changing my beliefs about myself, I changed my life.
I learned that just because something bad happens to another person, that it doesn’t mean I’m responsible for it or that I even need to do anything about it. I am responsible for my actions. There is no reason to allow another person to take advantage of you, just because they’ve been damaged. Like they say on airplanes, you must put on your own oxygen mask before you help others. I had naively failed to even get my mask on, before I thought I could jump in and save someone else – and it turned out that the person didn’t need saving. Derek lived for destruction. We can’t change others. We can only change ourselves.
Most of us would benefit from truly understanding this idea and balancing ourselves and our perception of self, so we are not blinded; especially when a love bite is orchestrated or when we are being manipulated in any form. At the root of this relationship were feelings of desperation, increased self-hatred, frustration, anger, and feeling like I had nowhere to turn. I was projecting all of my issues outwards and was avoiding looking at them, by finding other people to focus on.
With every challenge I face in my life, I continue to discover that the answer is always within. I’ve had several loving people guide me along my path and encourage me to heal throughout my life, but I never would have changed or maintained these changes to be in the space I am today, if I hadn’t desired, deep within, to change and heal myself.
(Author’s note: Details on how I healed from this relationship can be found here)
~ NOSCE TE IPSUM ~