Hi all,
Made this account to try and relieve myself of the guilt and horror I have been experiencing. Please leave a comment if you had a similar experience.
Post seems long and rambling, but is a true narrative that I'm putting out here to find truth. It has controlled my life for so many years.
When I was twelve I was very lonely, and had prior received an asperger's diagnosis. To connect me to people who might share my same struggles, my legal guardian put me on the WrongPlanet IRC chat. I got hooked and would spend up to eight hours a day just talking to people. I loved the company and it was one of the most meaningful parts of my life.
When I met another user, we were arguing about chess opening strategy in the main group. He thought I was smart and kind, and a friendship developed. I'd reach out to him each day, and pretty soon we were calling on Skype up to 15 hours a day. He was a genius and a brilliant piano player who wrote over 30 songs I remember by heart.
Though I was twelve, the relationship quickly took a turn. He admitted once when I was 14 to being a pedophile. He was a 28 year old virgin living with his mom and working a job he'd had since high school. I helped him plan a move from one city to another and enroll in one of the largest tech universities in his country. He started to trust me, and I looked up to him. I had no interest in a relationship, beyond keeping talking to him. I got bullied in high school and had nobody to turn to besides my siblings, who I can't fully trust. He was everything.
When I was 15, he confessed love to me and then immediately asked to marry me. This was two days before my birthday. On my birthday, he wrote a song in my name that was beautiful and complex, and said it was for the love of his life. The video description said (it was a YouTube video) "like me, it's not perfect, but it tries to be". I was under a lot of pressure and very shy at that age. I agreed to date him, and we celebrated the anniversary on my birthday.
He told he me would kill himself if I ever left. We'd had so many good times together, and I was so lonely, it seemed like a small price to pay. I knew he was serious, and I had no idea how to ask for help.
I almost immediately began to get extorted for sexual content, that I'm 99% sure he sent to others. I lost weight and I pulled out so much hair from stress that I had a bald patch. I ate the hair to hide it and ended up with a large bezoar, ending in a serious bowel obstruction. My health declined.
Often I would just cry, but I was so worried I'd disappoint him and he'd be hurt. If I left, I knew he'd die.The guy has depression so severe, he'd buy a 25lb bag of frozen chicken and eat it frozen over two weeks, with nothing else. He would turn on the shower and just lie on the floor of it for hours. I wanted to help, and I had little self respect.
He was on his own in the apartment we'd arranged near his college, and his depression became more severe. Several times he cut contact, came back two weeks later and told me he couldn't kill himself.
When I was 16, I went to boarding school in another country. I was away from home. You can bet that the day I turned 18 he wanted to visit. I told friends and family openly in an attempt to get help. I was hoping that if I was taken away from him, and didn't leave him voluntarily, I could spare his life. People just said "it's your decision, you're an adult. I wouldn't do it". I felt helpless and he said "you better make it worth my while, I'm paying all this money for you".
He met me in October at my school campus. He hid behind a tree, and I wound around the side to find him, but he continued to sneak behind. I grew afraid of what might happen.
The school let him visit, and the head of residence met with him. She even told me he was an "upstanding man". We were allowed to be on campus, but couldn't leave grounds. I gave him a small blue fox toy I had sewn by hand, and he pocketed it.
We went on a short walk, as he was anxious and didn't want to be seen by students. As soon as we were alone. I was assaulted in the nearby woods. Rain started falling before the penetration actually occurred, and I got a phone call from the residence to return immediately. They had seen someone looking like us off campus, but it wasn't us. That call saved me.
After the visit, he went home and I spoke to my school counselor about the assault a few months later. Nobody knew, and since the age of consent in my province was 19, I was mandated to file a police report.
I told him what had happened, and he was horrified. I told him we needed space and I'd be alright and forgive him. He said he'd be alright. I promised to speak to him on my birthday of that year.
I caved before that, but he never contacted me. Though I had seen he read my messages, never any replies. I found out from an online obituary and some calls to his family and only friend that he killed himself either September 6th or September 8th. One is my birthday, one was the original day he asked. Either way, he killed himself and never spoke to me again. His solo apartment and anti-social tendencies were so that he wasn't found for almost a month.
The man had a job, was being taken care of by his family, and would never have committed a crime had I not bothered him. I feel I killed him.
My senior year was highly bothered by the sexual assault, and his desire for a little girl made me so disgusted with myself that I came out as transgender to protect myself. I believed I was, but I wasn't. I got kicked out of my family home for a while and really suffered.
I put my life back together and started university thanks to the help of my current boyfriend and his mother.
When I learned my molester jad died, I was shocked. I was devastated. I began to hallucinate that he would come into my room, have sex with me and rot as soon as he put it in. His flesh would melt and mold and fall all over me. It was horrific. I began watching LiveLeak videos of decomposition in humans to parse what had happened, which made for extremely vivid hallucinations.
I was midway through winter quarter at my university, and lonely still. Now I felt I was a murderer, I felt worse. I felt I deserved the worst. A big snowstorm came and my room mate left for a week. I began drinking rubbing alcohol and tried to kill myself but felt so guilty of leaving my family to feel as I did that I called my sister and got help.
I still see my 19th birthday, how I went to an art museum and had rosemary lemon gelato. And I see him on the floor, choking on his own saliva to death from a fatal injection.
Only now am I beginning to understand that it wasn't my fault, but it'll be years before I believe it. That's what accidentally killing someone, or thinking you did, does to someone. I am haunted.
After I get some feedback, I might remove the post. Family members or friends on Reddit may identify me by my story. Just hoping to get some opinions on my culpability. I still feel I'm a monster and nobody in my life really wants to talk about it. Thank you. Do not give any metals or votes, I want this to avoid major publicity.
tl;dr My ex-boyfriend molested me, leading to a breakup that ended his life.