Vendetta was searching for evidence against me to file for divorce. There was none, because I was searching just as hard for ways to save the marriage and help Vendetta to seek counseling. On your average day, I’m a very ethical and obedient guy. Knowing that Vendetta was trying to destroy the marriage put me in a position to be perfect, so I took on that role. Vendetta started tracking me. She did this via her computer and my apple ID and PW. That’s why the online tracking screen was one of her top 10 most visited sites on her computer. She would log into the Apple ID area and see my calendar, GPD locations, tasks, etc. The paranoia is almost laughable, because it must have been extremely boring. I walked to work, to the grocery store (Trader Joe’), and then back home every single day. Besides a few workmates and my roommate, I didn’t have friends in Atlanta. I was in Charleston every weekend, because I planned to move there at the end of the year to reunite my family. My calendar was pretty boring: call mom, lunch with my roommate, etc. The task list was more fun. That’s where I took my notes or books I was reading (“I hate you, Don’t Leave Me”) on personality disorders and how to cope with those relationships. I even had notes about a pending surgery I had to remove a tumor on my neck. I didn’t have the money, because Vendetta wouldn’t help with family expenses. Vendetta even ruined her own birthday, because I kept my plans in my phone. I always wondered why she wasn’t surprised.
The strangest thing about the snooping was how Vendetta’s parents participated. Vendetta required me to text before I came home on the weekends. I assumed she was cheating on me and needed time to tidy the house and get whomever away in time for my arrival. “…accused her husband of infidelity despite having no evidence to support her belief.” This wasn’t confirmed, but texting before I came home… every… single… weekend was a strange request that I just indulged, because it was like walking on eggshells with Vendetta every day. “Children of borderlines become preoccupied with reading their mother’s mood in order to ward off a possible crisis or to prevent being attacked.” That was how I felt around Vendetta. When I showed up one weekend unannounced to surprise Vendetta, I saw her and her parents on the couch with the iPad either snooping or plotting. Either way, after an entire week or being away, none of them were excited to see me. I don’t even remember them saying anything to me. I later found out that Taylor kept notes on me in her iPad. She recorded stuff like, “today, Diego made a comment about how people with mental disorders should not be allowed to function in society unless they get psychological help.” Taylor thought it was ironic that I should speak of seeking help when she assumed I needed help. Truth was I was talking about her daughter by giving her a subliminal message about her daughter. You gotta laugh, because it was Taylor who diagnosed her daughter in the first place! How could she not see that I too knew that Vendetta had a disorder? I was on a loony train that was moving so fast, I couldn’t jump off.1
Around this same time, Charles (Fit and thin Charles), started to get stressed out. That stress would manifest itself into a heart attack right at the moment that Vendetta told him that she was going to divorce me. I’m sure he had it rough… pastor with a daughter who was twice divorced. At this point, everyone was going to point the finger at Vendetta and then Charles. I’m not sure of his childhood, but he definitely wanted to live a Godly life. I just wish he would have gotten his daughter the therapy she needed. “Although therapy does not cure the borderline, gaining insight, understanding, and validation may prevent a borderline mother from passing the disorder to her children.”