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my-dianathemoon-blog · 6 years

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a saint.

So, I dated Noland Bo Chaliha a.k.a Nolan Nicholson Fisher for two years. He love-bombed me after I had gotten out of a particularly intense relationship and we ended up together.

He seemed like the friendliest, most helpful person. When I was with him, I used to say he was a saint. In fact, one of our first interactions was right after we met on OKCupid, he helped me dispose of an old mattress. He loves David Foster Wallace, Lacan, poetry, claims he plays violin, tells amusing stories about his South Asian grandfather, Tuval Chaliha. He also has a very “feminist” façade.

I didn’t realize anything was out of the ordinary (save for some red flags here and there that I ignored because he seemed so caring and supportive) until I came home and he was with another girl. Had it just been cheating, it would just be a failed relationship, big whoop, I’ve been happily partnered for 6 years now so that would be water under the bridge...but that was actually how I discovered his true nature because it all spiraled downhill from there.

I called Alicia (name changed), who he had tricked me into believing was his former abusive roommate who I should avoid at ALL COSTS, only to find out she had dated him for 7 years and that he had actually left her with a mountain of credit card debt without a trace on Christmas morning in HER car with a bunch of her belongings. The first thing she said to me was, “I’ve been waiting to hear from you.” Now mind you, I didn’t know her, but she wondered how long it would take for me to realize that Noland was a predator.

When I called Alicia, Noland started threatening to kill himself and actually took a chef’s knife and lay on the kitchen floor of our apartment holding it to his chest. I took the knife out of his hands, threw it out the window and called 911, at which point he ran out of the apartment.

So I called a friend, and he helped me pack up as much of my stuff as we could so I could get away from Noland. While I was packing, I found that Noland had created a noose out of rope and hid it in a backpack of mine. He had given me his old iPhone as a gift (I later understood that he was using it to keep track of my whereabouts) thinking that it had been wiped clean, but I looked at the history on his YouTube to find “how to tie a noose,” and “how to evade a police interrogation” videos. I then found notes on his iPhone pertaining to pathological lying, and crimes that had been committed by serial killers (for instance, nurses that euthanized patients).

So, he cooked for me ALL THE TIME. Flashback about two weeks before the shit hit the fan, and I couldn’t eat a chicken curry dish he made because it tasted super metallic. Very shortly after I escaped, I looked in my supplements to find that HALF my brand new bottle of iron pills were gone! He also poisoned me with hydrocortisone, manganese pills, prescription drugs that he had stolen from others or ordered off the internet, and left me with damage to the hippocampus and Cushing’s Syndrome, diagnosed by my doctor.

I had no clue why I was getting so sick, gaining weight rapidly (15 lbs in two weeks), losing my hair in clumps, and losing my memory. I even had horizontal lines in my nails (Beau's lines) indicating that I had been poisoned. I told him I felt like I needed to go to the ER, and he brushed it off, reassuring me I would be fine in the morning.

Another tip-off aside from the metallic taste of my food was that I got a rash called erythema multiforme, which had been a side effect from a medication I had taken briefly that I had discontinued due to the reaction, but still had the pills in my medicine cabinet. That bottle, too, was empty when I left.

In the early stages of our relationship, I called him and asked him to take me to the hospital due to the reaction from the medication, but he didn't take me, my roommates did. My doctor had told me to watch out for any rashes because they could turn into life-threatening Stevens-Johnson syndrome, so when I got the rash I freaked out and called him and told him about it. I think he was hoping that if he put the same medication in my food I would get Stevens-Johnson syndrome and die, but all I got was a tiny rash. The rash is super distinct (it looks like circular rings) and I knew it was the same one I'd gotten from the medication...only I wasn't taking the medication, so...yeah.

I also found out that he had sent text messages to our mutual friend, John (name changed to protect individual), who is now my boyfriend (and was also one of his victims), telling him that I “was in a dark place.” The text messages and the noose would be “evidence” for the cops/coroner that I had been suicidal, which was not at all true, and John knew it.

Shortly after I found him cheating/lying but before I realized he was poisoning me, we were making amends (I thought) and he took me up to the top of a parking garage because he “wanted to show me his reading spot.” Thank God I am afraid of heights and wouldn’t go to the ledge with him, because now I firmly believe his plan was to throw me off the building, because his plan to get me to lose my mind and commit suicide by putting psychiatric drugs in my food, or kill me with poison in my food wasn’t working fast enough and his plans were unraveling as I was becoming cognizant of his lies.

He sent a very blurry porn video to John, telling him that it was me. John knew right away that it wasn’t. He told me (and most likely others) that he had sex with John (who is straight), which was also not true. He also asked John in passing how he would feel if I were to die.

He stole and disposed of irreplaceable disks of years worth of my late father’s writing, who was a well-known author. I had brought the disks out of storage for the express purpose of publishing these works, and now they are gone. Tons of my material possessions were stolen or destroyed, including a sapphire and diamond necklace my mother gave me when I was a child, and vintage wedding dresses that he spilled ink on. He gave some of my belongings to other girls, as I discovered that he had sometimes months-long relationships with other girls under the guise of having a second job.

I contacted both the police and the FBI, but they wouldn’t pursue it. Since I had thought all along that he was a great guy and we were in a good relationship, I didn’t suspect a thing. He was many steps ahead of me with a plan to create a smear campaign against me after I left, and thus filed a restraining order against me to convince the police I was the bad guy.

Alicia had told me that he stole her banjo and digital camera when he abandoned her, and he had brought an expensive guitar (buttercream-colored 90s Telecaster) home one day with a very flimsy explanation of where he had gotten it, so I brought both those instruments and the camera with me when I left in order to give the former back to Alicia and find the rightful owner of the guitar. So when the police officer came, he interrogated me and was actually ON THE PHONE with Noland telling him where I was, and asking me if I took the guitar. I said yes, I took the guitar, because I did.

Since I had been getting sicker and increasingly losing my ability to work my coffee shop job, Noland encouraged me a few months prior to quit and get into sex work, which he later used against me with law enforcement, as well as to spread gossip about me to friends – claiming my work was actually recreational cheating I was doing behind his back.

So the officer had “proof" that I was a thief, a whore, and my crying my eyes out telling the him Noland tried to kill me and steal my identity was enough to convince him that I was mentally unstable. The officer told me to go to a walk-in psychiatric clinic and give the guitar back, and then he left.

I spent a long time researching after this ordeal. Noland is what’s known as a cerebral psychopath. Quite intelligent and charming. Plays the victim with a sad story about how his mother treated him poorly in his childhood (despite the fact that he still talks to her on the phone all the time and receives large amounts of money from her; both his parents are successful realtors in Arizona). He will tell you all about all of his “crazy ex-girlfriends.” One being his high school girlfriend who supposedly even tried to stab him, which now I realize is fabricated.

He plays the helpful, gentle, childlike, artistic type supposedly concerned with the welfare of marginalized folks. A lot of his personality traits, he actually co-opts from friends and lovers he has discarded. Poetry was mine, as he didn’t have a single book of poetry when we we met, and David Foster Wallace was co-opted from my boyfriend John, along with a host of other aspects of both our identities.

He uses the stories of predatory behavior that he's inflicted on others and pretends like it was the other way around. I'm pretty sure that the story where his high school girlfriend attempted to stab him was actually him trying to stab her, because when I tried to contact her, she said that she didn't want anything to do with him, she didn't even want to talk about it because she was so traumatized.

I've read some David Foster Wallace since I escaped him, and some of his "childhood memories" and stories are lifted straight out of those pages. I was so damn trusting that I never questioned it.

After I caught him with the girl, I snooped in his phone, and he had been sending photos to other girls saying he had an online vintage wedding dress boutique. They were my photos, my dresses, and my online boutique.

Alicia believes that he terrorized her cat while she was at work as well, as she said her timid, fearful cat blossomed into an affectionate and social creature after Noland moved out. He HATES animals, he’s very jealous of them, as they compete for the attention of his friends (his narcissistic supply).

At one point, I called a friend of his who was a writer for the Portland Mercury, and she told me that Noland had mentioned performing psychiatric drug experiments on unwitting victims. One being me, and another being Jane (name changed), a woman he had a brief fling with who moved to L.A. When I spoke to her, she told me that he had given her “vitamins” that made her feel dizzy.

A few months after I left Noland, I got a call from a woman named [name redacted]. She told me that she was being cyber-stalked and that her hacker friends had traced it to Noland. She was using a burner because she, like I, was afraid. Apparently he also had very disturbing, if not illegal, porn on his computer. Several such women came forward to tell me that he had stolen from them, behaved sexually inappropriately towards them, and I also found out that his employers at IKEA had reprimanded him for following CHILDREN into the bathroom.

Other crimes he committed include property damage, theft, auto theft, identity theft (when I moved out, I found drivers’ licenses and credit cards of numerous people – one I confirmed through Alicia was their former roommate – and he had also tried to take out payday loans online using my social security number and passport that I thought I had lost). He stole another friend’s car registration papers. He also stole money to create his Snoot shirts brand and failed to pay artists for their work, and then took off for South America for a spell. I was also told he faked a cancer diagnosis in high school, and raped a girl in high school. He raped me as well, insofar as he tried to impregnate me against my will.

He happens to prey on vulnerable people, namely women and non-binary AFAB folks, so I try to warn those in his social network. He doesn’t play violin (or if he does play it now, he plays it remedially, despite saying he used to practice 6 hours a day), so if he’s ever told you he does, and you want to prove that he’s a pathological liar, ask him to play the violin for you. He also claims his violin is a $10,000 instrument when it’s a rental.

When I posted in a Portland group outing predators on Facebook, I was amazed by how many women came out of the woodwork to tell me their stories. Whether you believe me or not, at the very least I would suggest not allowing him near children or eating his food. In fact, if he invites you to dinner, take a spoonful in your mouth, go to the bathroom, spit it into a jar and have it analyzed. Or bring a tupperware to “take home leftovers.”

I moved out of state to get away from him.

#nolandchaliha #abuse #abuser #portland #pdx

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