arvalisintravenous

[arvalisintravenous]

Entry #2 Regarding my stalker of almost 4 years.

If you're reading this entry, you are probably assuming he was the stalker... you would be partially correct, except not entirely. He very quickly established distance after I contacted authorities to instruct him to leave me alone.

Following up from my last entry, shortly after our volatile departure he had began to attempt to sabotage multiple relationships of mine thereafter, messaging the men to avoid me (which none took note) and repeatedly monitoring my social media and social life.

As I had previously stated, I had contacted the police and he was informed he was to withdraw all form of contact in entirety, which he obediently obliged. Following this, he began a relationship with a new girl, the same age as myself with similar interests and style.

Now, this is where I first met my stalker.

She started small, sending me a friend request, hoping I would accept so she would be given unrestricted access to consistently monitor me. I was agitated and disgusted. Her bold show of insecurity and budding obsession was evident and I loathed it. I considered it nonsensical and pathetic to consider me competition for her partner.

I refused, addressing her strange behaviour while calling her a creep. She unintelligently attempted to deny knowledge of who I was, insisting she only added me because she thought I looked "cool". I promptly blocked her. She took this very poorly, and the more obvious I made it that I was going to maintain maximum privacy, the more her obsession evolved.

It began with multiple fake accounts, she was intent on monitoring my social media - then it progressed to my family and friends, even old acquaintances, she would add every single one with the hope someone would accept and provide her with exclusive information into my life.

She would constantly post indirectly about me, intentionally hinting at me or referring to me, always cautiously maintaining plausible deniability, but everyone was already well aware to whom she was referring to. Every post I made she would respond to with a cryptic aimed update, every time I changed songs on my social media she would likewise, she would infer hidden meaning or reference to herself where there was none. At this point, I was still grieving my lover and would document memories and songs we enjoyed together, the stupid girl would convince herself that every post was somehow referencing her beau.

She progressed into being additionally competitive, every time I changed a profile picture or added a photo, within the hour she would do the same, determined to compete in every possible avenue. It was a while before I began to realise she was altering herself to emulate me in every way.

I noticed she had began desperately trying to identify as foreign, using ancient "barely there" minor percentages of her ancestry in a bid to appear more exotic. Promptly following this, she had pierced her face in the exact way I had and began to cut her hair similarly to myself. The most peculiar thing, was that she had began to seek out the source of my aesthetic, hunting down the tattoo artist I frequented or the clothing designers I purchased from.

She bought clothing to replicate my appearance in entirety, and her first tattoos were the exact placement of my own. The most unsettling thing, was a t-shirt of mine her then boyfriend had (unbeknownst to me) stolen from me, that she began to wear religiously.

I confronted her directly for the first occasion, expressing my disgust at her blatant attempt of copying me and mocking her for wearing my shirt with intention of provoking me - I informed her the shirt had been essentially a cum rag me and her current partner had utilised, she was bitter in her responses. I had agitated her by reminding her I was her sexual predecessor, it brought me joy to realise I had knowingly sewed the seeds of jealousy.

I hated her, for the simple fact she would not leave me alone. It was irritating to have every post, every minor change, every alteration to my physical appearance utilised to further this counterfeit version of myself. She was an annoyance, and I loathed how desperately and obsessively she lurked in my shadow.

Her behaviour only progressed, attempting to find my place of work before coming in as a customer, repeatedly getting her willing partner to drive her past my home, all while continuing to simultaneously update her replication of my appearance and monitoring my family for images or information of me.

She frequented the places I visited and enjoyed, responded to every imaginary indirect reference to herself, and repeatedly tried to flaunt her boyfriend who she was insistent I was so jealous of. During my grieving of my lover, I occupied myself with many insignificant dates and brief relationships in a bid to ease the pain, never fully letting go because the heartbreak never subsided - this stupid girl was beneath me, and the mere fact she assumed that her pathetic insubordinate male was comparatively meaningful infuriated me. He was never important, he maintained to be irrelevant.

To summarise, she misunderstood my heartbreak and pain to be attributed to her weak defective boyfriend. All I wanted was my beloved Teddy back, and he was gone forever - and this idiotic rat was insistent my affections were directed to her mate.

In her desperation to maintain his attention and reassure herself of her superiority, the miserable creature thus had to analyse and monitor my every movement to ensure she would always be one step ahead. Pathetic. This discourse was a waste of my time and as much as I tried to clarify they were not the object of my attention she would constantly attempt to drag me back into her bizarre one sided feud. She would mention me to locals or mutuals in an attempt to discover more information about me, while attempting to deface me.

Her mother, a dismal dumpy genetic nightmare, was just as ridiculous as she was. She was a wrinkled, displeasing sow - unremarkable and void of any sparkle, her age apparent and exaggerated by years of obvious drinking and lack of skincare. They were, in terms of personality, virtually identical. I came to understand (through her stupid daughters own admission) that her mother had likewise monitored my social media under her instruction. It seemed laughable and disturbing to me that a woman presumably over double my age was also invested in my life - I assumed her an insecure freak and it became more obvious where her spawn had inherited her patheticism. It brought me pleasure seeing her genetic predecessor, the future looked bleak for her, and coupled with her routine tobacco use and binge drinking she was destined to a face of mediocrity.

I analysed her likewise after a while, to attempt to understand specifically what drove her to such madness, and my research was short lived, as contrary to her belief, she was in no way mysterious or complex. She was a textbook Borderline, crafted by a so called "traumatic childhood", with two doting devoted parents and a strong family unit I could not help but roll my eyes, how awful her life must have been! Woe is her!

She was desperate to have a troubled past and wanted to appear as though she was a survivor of great injustice and abuse. Ridiculous. What was the worst that her life had bestowed upon her? Not the latest iPad for Christmas? The travesty!

Regardless, her self proclaimed disorder gave great insight to her behaviour, and the more I looked the more I began to see her misery in all it's glory.

She was evidently suffering from some form of eating disorder, likely starving herself in an attempt to boost her dismal confidence, and would proudly resell her old clothing while in narcissistic fashion subtly boasting of her recent extreme weight loss. "Size XS, no longer fits me :( I am too small." It was interesting reading her so simply, she really was the most transparent person.

To add insult to injury, she alleged that she herself suffered from self harm, although after close inspection I discovered she was absent of scarring on her arms. Either it was a half hearted attempt or she had engaged in more subtle forms - or she had simply lied in a bid to garner sympathy. It slowly became apparent that whatever the specifics, one fact was certain, she hated herself and to her, every woman was competition.

I began to realise I was likely not her only target, and she directed this insecure obsession towards others aswell. I almost felt pity for her, a shred of sympathy if you will - until I realised that the source of her entire immature ritual was a man of low standing. She was willing to humiliate and hurt herself for such a pathetic man.

I also came to realise she was by very definition "chronically online". She was obsessed with the Internet, with a profile on virtually every platform, and her digital footprint was the hallmark of someone who was given unmitigated access from a young age. She clearly had no understanding or care of the digital paper trail she left behind, which detailed years of embarrassment. She always utilised the same monikers, a foolish decision that inevitably left a subtle but traceable trail to all her other platforms and usernames. Even when she had attempted to remain discrete, she would always slip up and reference or redirect to her alternate accounts.

This would be her downfall, and how I decided I would eventually take my revenge, hopefully discouraging her from attempting any form of interaction in the future.

[arvalisintravenous]

Blog entry #1, Regarding my stalker of almost 4 years.

I don't expect or necessarily want anyone to read this blog. I am creating this exclusively to document and analyse my own behaviour and the behaviour of my stalker - who, coincidentally, I have began stalking back.

It all started just about 4 years ago, when I met a man older than me by about 6 years (I hadn't yet even reached 18), incidentally, I have come to understand and realise that this man was what I would categorise as "defective", distinct in his innate inability to emotionally relate and connect with women his own age.

Do I think this man was a pedophile? No, I don't 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 think he was. I believe that quite simply he lacked maturity and was not considered attractive enough to be a worthy competitor to women his own age. That being said, while I like to believe he is not actively seeking out girls for the sole fact that they are very young, I am adamant in the theory that he was no less a 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿.

He seeks out impressionable, willing girls. Dazzled by the fact he has a car and a job - often teenagers with little life knowledge and low standards, easily susceptible to manipulation and love bombing. He is used to the power being forever in his favour, why wouldn't he be? A doting mother who is forever spoiling and idolising him, a family who continues to infantilise him - he is by definition, raised a brat. Never told no. I hated him for it.

The harsh truth was he meant nothing from the beginning. While I am ashamed to admit, during a difficult patch with my (now) ex lover, my eye had drifted and I came upon him. His distinct and interesting aura waned on one simple fact: he never showed his face in photos. He was always clad in full motorcycle gear, helmet firmly on in every. single. photograph.

Admittedly, I was curious and I imagined the face that could be hidden underneath - the uncertainty and mystery intrigued me, so I directed my attention onto him. He was reciprocal, desperate - it was evident that our interaction was organic and thrilling to him. We hadn't met on tinder, we were a chance coincidental encounter. I had sought him out after glancing at his profile on mutual friends. This made him feel special and important, I could tell.

The trouble was, my then lover was indifferent, and although I was filled with hate and anger at the months of preceding injustices, I was utterly and innately obsessed with him. During the millionth departing and breakup (which, was never really a breakup as we always reconciled days later) I gave into impulse and decided to direct my attention back to the other man. I figured I could finally find a new object of desire and infatuation, that was significantly more disposable, to dampen my unbearable attachment to my lover.

In layman terms, I was intending to entertain myself with this man until I no longer cared so deeply for my lover, thus being able to discard him and, shortly after, his replacement. But of course my plan went wrong.

I met the man and upon seeing his face I was slightly disappointed, I had envisioned various faces he could wear, but the one he came with was not what I had expected or wanted. I did not find him as attractive as my lover, but I persisted, as although he was comparatively pathetic, he was evidently keen and it stroked my ego.

During the few days we got acquainted, I did not kiss or engage sexually with my companion. I addressed him by pet names of affection and lightly twirled his curls, saw his face crumple and melt in mock adoration and I made him feel like he was the centre of my universe.

I was not stupid, I was aware he too was playing a game. Mimicking intense love and attempting to lovebomb me, while unintentionally being the victim himself. Eventually, my lover and I reconciled, and I coldly withdrew from the man, deceitfully clarifying my intent of exclusively friendship which he obliged with hope I would change my mind.

Everytime my lover and I would break up, I would redirect all my attention and adoration onto him, each time he fell further and further. My lover and I eventually departed ways for good and I decided in a desperate attempt to distract myself from the heartbreak by finally investing in a non committal relationship with my companion.

This did not go well, as I eventually discovered he had undesirable and repulsive interests that did not align with my own sexual proclivities. To specify, he liked feet. After an evening of discussing his interest, he lamented a little too much of an ex who never cleaned her feet or changed her socks and how repulsive this notion was to him - his feigned disgust gave him away, it was obvious his fetish entailed more than he was comfortable divulging. This man began to revolt me.

Despite the drugs and constant indulgence of vices, food and drink he became more insufferable by the day, and by the time my interest had almost entirely dwindled a convenient (and abhorrent) secret had revealed itself. A girl had come forward to detail how he had (very recently might I add) travelled over 100 miles to see her for sex, the disgraceful thing? She had only recently turned of age during the interaction, revealing that he had intentionally groomed her for this very purpose.

I was disgusted and thrilled - disgusted that he had crawled as close to the line of being a pedophile as he legally could... and thrilled that I finally had a reason to detach. He took it poorly, insisting he was going to commit suicide shortly before disappearing. My solution was to block him and call the local authorities, leaving them to deal with him. What little empathy I possessed for him initially was snuffed out after my discovery of his barely legal pal.

He was found a mere days later, sleeping in his car. A concept that made me positively cringe at his pathetic descent into obscurity. Shortly after I began to officially allow myself to grieve the loss of my tumultuous original lover, coming to terms with his inadequacies and infidelity, which I came to understand I had reciprocated.

This concludes the initial introduction and swift departure of the man that started it all.