I'm Angry. Really REALLY Angry.

I was challenged by a good friend on Facebook to do the 7 days of being grateful thing, or whatever it's called, but today I'm struggling. I feel very angry. I think I'll pour out all the anger here, as I never have before, and start the grateful challenge tomorrow.

I'm angry.
I'm angry that he tricked me.
I'm angry that I fell for his bullshit.
I'm angry that his words of love and affection meant nothing.
I'm angry that I fell in love but was only a pawn to him in some sick game.
I'm angry that I trusted him.
I'm angry that I was so naïve and stupid.
I'm angry I gave my heart to him.
I'm angry I envisioned this perfect life with this "perfect" guy and ignored his fucked up behavior.
I'm angry I allowed myself to so blindly follow his toxic and poisonous influence.
I'm angry that I was able to be manipulated by material things and empty promises.
I'm angry that I was able to be manipulated into RUINING relationships that mattered to me--and will probably never, ever get back.
I'm angry that he drove a wedge between me and my older son.
I'm angry that he controlled me.
I'm angry that I didn't know about emotional abuse and red flags.
I'm angry that I didn't know about sociopaths aside from what I saw in movies.
I'm angry that he exposed me to living with a husband who was addicted to pills.
I'm angry he was so psychotic that he drugged me.
I'm angry that HE imploded our marriage.
I'm angry that he blamed ME for the destruction of our marriage and family.

I'm angry that he destroyed me financially and it'll take years to crawl out of it.
I'm angry that he was able to play the system for so long.
I'm angry my family and I lost thousands upon thousands of dollars in legal divorce fees trying to pry me from his grip.
I'm angry that those who were in positions to protect us bought his complete bullshit.
I'm angry that police were so cynical about judicial [lack of] consequences that they wouldn't arrest him.
I'm angry that judges and magistrates continually gave him the benefit of the doubt.
I'm angry that I was viewed as the hysterical and dramatic wife--even though it was all based on being traumatized.
I'm angry that I was helpless to protect myself and my family.
I'm angry that he decided to do the ultimate in control--decided whether I lived or died.
I'm angry that he nearly killed my father who never once threatened him.
I'm angry that he didn't give enough of a shit about his own son that he would shoot through a door behind which he was standing.
I'm angry that he almost wiped out THREE generations of the Ranta family.
I'm angry that he was smart enough to know how to surrender without being killed.
I'm angry he didn't at least have the courtesy to turn the gun on himself.

I'm angry that because he's a sociopath, he likely isn't miserable in jail but is probably thriving in that environment among criminals that he can use and manipulate.
I'm angry he still gets his military pension and disability and can pay huge defense expenses as a result.
I'm angry that he and his slimebag lawyer collect $2500/mo in rent for our house, which should be in foreclosure but isn't.
I'm angry that I don't see a dime, and nobody can seem to figure this out or help me.
I'm angry the bank has done nothing about that, so that money goes directly to his defense.
I'm angry that he will NEVER plead guilty and not drag us through a trial.
I'm angry that he has more rights than we do as victims.

I'm angry that I now know about gun violence.
I'm angry that I live with PTSD and triggers.
I'm angry that I don't trust men--at all--and may not ever again.
I'm angry that I spook so easily.
I'm angry he subjected our son to blood and gore and trauma--things NO child should have to see, ESPECIALLY at the hands of his own father.
I'm angry that my hand is numb.
I'm angry that my father's hand is numb.
I'm angry that my family was exposed to the horror of abuse because of him--both before and after the shooting.
I'm angry because of the hate I feel inside.
I'm angry because of the turmoil I feel inside.
I'm angry to have lost the old me--that's part of the grieving process, too.
I'm angry for the loss of innocence.

I'm angry that good people I know and love are going through hardships, especially health-wise, and a demonic subhuman like him gets to live.

I'm angry that he's still alive.

Love and Support for Kate Ranta and Family 

Guest Blogger! The Beginning—​Red Flags

I'm welcoming guest blogs by family and friends who know me best! My first guest blogger is my dear friend, Kaysha, who wanted to share her thoughts and feelings about what she saw early on in my relationship with Tom. We texted yesterday after she emailed me her blog, and the one thing that sticks with me is that she, too, felt some of his behaviors were "off" and bizarre--but emotional abuse is tough to see. I'm so touched that she took the time to write this. It did bring me to tears, yet helps me so much. Thank you, Kaysha, and love you tons!

 

I am one of Kate's good friend's from D.C. We met each other at work about 15 or so years ago (eek, that long ago?). 

 

 

Kaysha and her daughter, Vivienne, and their dog, Zoe

 

I was friends with her when she was dating her ex-husband, when she was pregnant with her first child (in fact, I threw her a baby shower for him), and then the end of that marriage. We spent 9/11 together at my house, amongst many other of our good friends. Kate always speaks her mind, has a fantastic sense of humor, makes friends easily, never puts up with bullshit, and stands up for her friends and for what she believes is right. She is one of my closest friends, although geography has gotten in the way of how often we see one another.

 

Just a little background about me, I feel that this is quite relevant to what happened with Kate. For a few years, as a child, my mother was married to a man who was physically, mentally, and financially abusive to her. I witnessed a lot of this abuse from the time I was 5 until I was 9 (as I lived with them at the time), when my mother finally left her abuser. 

 

I watched her go to work wearing sunglasses, with apparently no one noticing the black eyes, or, more likely, no one having the bravery to mention it and ask if she needed help. Each payday my mother surrendered both her paycheck and checkbook to my stepfather (along with her car keys). We literally lived in a log cabin at the end of a mile or more long driveway so that we could be isolated from our family, friends, and even neighbors. If my mother wanted to drive the car and/or buy something, she had to ask my stepfather for permission and had to have proof and very good reasons to back such expeditions up. 

 

I witnessed much of the physical abuse (the log cabin was only one room, hard to miss anything there). I remember one night (before we lived in the log cabin) being woken up by my trembling 80 pound dog as my stepfather screamed and hacked his way into their locked bedroom door with a knife. My dog and I silently tip-toed back to my room and shut the door as quietly as possible and lay there the rest of the night hoping that he wouldn't try to come into my room. Anyway, my mother finally found the courage to leave him, and luckily she had a supportive family that we were able to live with until she could get back on to her feet.

 

I first met Tom the day of my baby shower. Kate was one of the hostesses for my shower. Everyone was atwitter about him. You see, it was a male/female baby shower, but it was exactly one week after Kate and Tom's first date. What kind of guy willingly goes to a baby shower for someone he doesn't even know? Many people were asking this, and the answers varied from "A great guy" to "A guy with no life." No one thought it was a red flag, but it certainly was unusual. I didn't realize then that that was also the last time I would see Kate without Tom until she finally left him. This is really important to point out. From that day on, I never saw Kate without Tom. No girls' nights out, nothing.

 

I think another thing about Tom that put people off was his teeth. He was very handsome, but his teeth were unnaturally blindingly white. It was weird. It put me off, but again, it was something that was hard to say made him a bad choice for Kate. Again, he was handsome, and maybe his (unnaturally) white teeth made him even more so to Kate. It seemed a bit odd to me that a man would spend so much energy on his looks, but who knows, maybe they were naturally that white? No way in hell.

 

Things moved pretty quickly with Tom and Kate. Again, Kate is a passionate person, so although I felt a little concern for how quickly things moved, I didn't really think it was a red flag. Kate was a single mom and met this guy who seemed totally into her, so why not let her enjoy that? She deserved to be loved. And she was no pushover, she always stood up for herself.

 

When Tom had his motorcycle accident, I went to visit them at the hospital. Let me say at this point, this is something that I did as Kate's friend. As far as Tom goes, I had been around him and Kate several times at this point, but felt no affinity towards him except for that Kate cared for him and I wanted to be there for her. Not that I disliked Tom, but I just never got much of sense from him at all. I am a very warm, friendly, huggy person, almost to a fault the person who likes to give people the benefit of the doubt. I didn't have misgivings about him, but I felt no warmth. And I certainly noticed that I seemed to be one of very few people that actually visited Tom when he was in the hospital. Also, Kate and I took a walk at some point and that is when she told me that he had a bad reaction to his meds and snapped and yelled at her. I remember asking her how that was possible. I had heard about people having allergic reactions to meds, but never getting mean on them. I even remember going home and doing a rudimentary Google on it and coming up with a page similar to this:

 

https://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20101006230523AAcJIzb

Again, I felt like I should mention this again to Kate, but she was so happy with him, and then BAM, before I got a chance, she called me and told me that he asked her to marry him in the hospital.

 

Again, red flags popped up everywhere in my head. Why in the hospital? So unromantic really, I mean he asked her to get the ring and bring it to him. And why so quickly? Why couldn't he wait till he healed at least and really surprise her and maybe get down on his knees?

 

I go over these feelings I have and others that I plan to share later, and I feel like I let Kate down as a friend. I saw these things but didn't share them with her because I didn't want to rain on her parade. Also, not only did I fail Kate as a friend, but it made me question myself and tendencies to give people the benefit of the doubt, over and over again. In the past it has mostly affected only me, and nothing so painful as this (the worst I can think of that happened to me was my $5,000 boyfriend, but that's a whole other story that has to do with me losing only a little pride and a lot of money). But after this I want to make a promise to myself and my friends that I will be more truthful and look out for red flags and call them as I see them. 

 

I promise myself and my friends that when I have a gut feeling or see red flags, I will react (when it has to do with myself) and I will share my concerns (when it has to do with my friends). That is what friends are for (and I deserve that as well). I don't know how Kate would have reacted had I shared my concerns at the time, but I know she would have continued to be my friend, and if there is the slightest possibility that by having that conversation, Kate would have gone in a different direction, away from that man, then it would have been well worth it. We'll never know.

 

Love and Support for Kate Ranta and Family 

 

 

 

The Time When His Father Called Him a Sociopath

Oh how I wish I had the email his father sent him in the first several months I knew him.

He had already told me about his strained/non-existent relationship with his father, who lived in some extremely remote area in South Dakota. He said his father loved his ex-wife before me and blamed him for it ending. The indication was that his father was a flirt and thought his ex-wife was attractive--which I found disturbing, obviously. He told me that he'd tried to tell his father about how abusive she was, about how she'd thrown a wine bottle at him and broken his ribs, how she'd stomped on his foot and broken toes. He said he'd even sent his father the hospital record to prove it. But his father believed she was provoked somehow and that he was at fault, that he deserved her abuse.

After he met me, he said he'd had a rare conversation with his father, that he told him about me. The father didn't approve, however, because I had a child. His father had called me used goods. He thought his son could do better, and should try to get his ex-wife back. Clearly I wasn't on his level or caliber, having had a child with another man. This was something to be looked down upon.

I was incensed. This man didn't know me! Who the hell was he to look down his nose at me? Parents of guys I'd dated always loved me! To be written off like that without so much as a conversation was hurtful. And, it wasn't anything I'd ever seen before. My parents have always been warm and welcoming to those I'd dated. I just didn't get it.

Then he told me about his father.

He had been a pilot in the Air Force. Then he flew for American Airlines. He was a ladies man. He cheated on his wife, my ex's mother, more than once. He was degrading and belittling to her. He eventually left her for a younger flight attendant whom he married and also degraded and belittled. He was aggressive and horrible to his two older sons...but supposedly never to my ex, his youngest son. But my ex saw how he treated his family and others in his life. He saw him lose good friends and alienate this family.

It was never clear whether there was physical abuse to my ex's mother, or to the younger flight attendant, or to the brothers. But it was clear that at the very least, emotional abuse was rampant. Although it was never called that either.

It was just that his father was a raging asshole. The term abuse was never used.

My ex said he wasn't like his father. He said his sensibilities and sensitivity were much more like his mother. That he was docile and kind and nurturing. Like her.

I believed him.

Back to the sociopath email. At some point within the first several months--after the phone conversation where his father had rejected me--he showed me an email he had sent his father. He went to bat for me. He stood up for me against this man who had just strong opinions about a woman with a child who was dating his son.

The father called him manipulative. Divisive. A person who does things for others only as a means to get something in return. A person without conscience and empathy. A user. He said he wanted nothing to do with him.

He was describing his son as a sociopath.

You know what? My ex called the email PROJECTION--that his father was calling him those things because that's what HE really was.

Remembering that email makes my head hurt.

Was the father really abusive? Did things really happen the way I was told they did? My ex certainly emulated his father, often bragged about his professional achievements and personal conquests. So is the father a sociopath, too, and his son followed in his footsteps?

My guess? Yes. Absolutely.


Love and Support for Kate Ranta and Family

The Time When He Bought Me Stuff...Lots of Stuff

I've been thinking a lot about financial abuse.

I have spent so much of my time thinking about and healing from the emotional/psychological abuse--and obviously the physical pain and recovery from being shot by someone I once loved and trusted.

But there is a big financial abuse component to my story.

Part I: Showing Me the Good Life

I've mentioned before that I was a single mom with my older son when I met him. I pretty much lived paycheck-to-paycheck. I lived within my means, but with the high standard of living in the DC area, I didn't have a whole lot extra left over each month to go shopping, take vacations, etc. I wasn't strapped but definitely wasn't rolling in it either.

I had what I needed. I shared a townhouse with another single mom friend of mine and her kids. I had a car. I had clothes for myself and my son. We were doing just fine.

The most important thing I DIDN'T have was debt. I'd made mistakes in my 20s with credit card debt and had dug myself out of it, so by my early 30s, I was in good shape again. I didn't have a credit card; I was living off of my salary and the child support I received.

Then I met him.

We went on trips within the first few months. A trip to LA to see his military friends; a trip to Atlanta to see my dear childhood friend; a trip to a resort in Mexico (he bought my wedding ring there, along with tons of other jewelry). I was thrilled! I hadn't been out of town unless it was for work. I hadn't been on vacation in years. And he paid for it all!

I'd hit the jackpot!

The gifts began pouring in quickly. That birthstone bracelet and more jewelry (2-carat diamond earrings!...a 2-carat solitaire pendent!), then name brand shoes, then Coach purses, then entire shopping sprees for new clothes. "Buy anything you want," he'd said at Nordstrom.

So you see what he was doing. He was upgrading my life. He was upgrading ME!

He never outright said that I needed improvement, but judging by how quickly he bought those items, my appearance clearly wasn't up to par. I had a no-name purse, no-name shoes, costume jewelry, a sufficient but not flashy wardrobe. Well and the other thing is, he never asked me my shoe size or whether I wanted new shoes...or new purses or new clothes. He just bought what he liked and presented them to me.

At the time, I was grateful.

But also at the time, I didn't catch the other potential financial pitfalls into which he was leading me in his quest to make upgrades.

I drove an affordable Nissan Versa. I was maybe a year, maybe not even a year, into a three year lease. After a few months of dating, he talked me into upgrading to a sporty 2-door Honda. Turning my lease in early meant a higher monthly payment for the car. He said he'd help me with that. After less than a year in the Honda, he talked me into an Acura MDX. Yeah. That was significantly more expensive than the Honda. He said he'd help me with that.

I mentioned I was debt-free. He talked me into credit cards to buy furniture and other items for our home on the Army base. We needed new bedroom furniture, new couches, a plasma TV, a dinette set, a king-sized mattress. He said my credit was better than his...because of the thousands he owed for putting his education on credit cards. He said he'd help me pay mine off quickly though.  

 

I had no reason to think he wouldn't. He loved me. I trusted him. I wanted to make our life and home better, too.

Do you think those debts were paid off?

Oh. And also? He refused to share a bank account after we were married. Unlike other abusers who control financially by taking over a joint account, mine refused to allow me to share. He wanted our money separate, period. I never knew what was going in or coming out of his account. Not ever. He didn't want me seeing what was happening with his money.

I never understood the secrecy. Until later.

Love and Support for Kate Ranta and Family

 

The Time When I Met an Air Force Officer Online

Summer 2007. I was 34-years-old and a single mom with my older son, who was 3-1/2 at the time. I’d been single since 2004, had dated some, but nothing had really worked out. I decided to join Match.com. I just wanted to go out on some dates, have fun, get out of the house.

I remember scrolling through the men and just kind of haphazardly “winking” at everyone I thought was cute. I wasn’t taking it seriously at all. I wasn’t even really reading the profiles; it was that shallow of an exercise, but I was having fun with it.

I absolutely remember his photo, even now. He was strikingly handsome. Dressed in casual pants and a loose button down. Appeared to be someplace warm. His features looked like a movie star’s. And all his other photos were equally as dazzling. A very fit guy, big round blue eyes. It pains me to even admit this, given everything that happened.

He responded to my wink with a written note. I was honestly surprised. I went back to read his profile: 37, no kids, officer in the Air Force (I swooned). We messaged back and forth on Match a few times, then traded emails, then phone numbers. He asked me out pretty quickly. He showed up at my door with flowers. I couldn’t believe how attractive he was. However…this I remember. When I opened the door, he had this huge, overly-whitened toothy grin and said, “Hiiiiiiiiiii…I’m (his name)” and I don’t know how else to describe it other than the tone of his voice and the way he spoke sounded so…creepy and fake. I can still hear it in my head. I thought his voice was weird. But he was handsome and had flowers and I quickly brushed it off. He took me to sushi and we ate a ton and drank wine and talked and talked and the way he looked at me…stared at me…I felt like the most beautiful girl in the world.

The Very Early Months

All I can say is that it progressed very fast. The speed of the relationship, I mean. Like other survivors’ stories I’ve read, I definitely was flattered. I thought he just adored me and wanted to be around me as much as possible. He bought me jewelry by the second date—a bracelet with my birth stones (he remembered it was October…squeal!), then came a new expensive purse (the Coach bags came later), several new pairs of Michael Kors sandals (the correct size because he’d looked). I mean, I know I’m a catch and all (LOL!) but I still felt somewhat…God, is honored the right word??...that a guy who looked as good as he did, and who was an officer in the military, was interested in a single mom. He was only married once before (to a fellow female officer who, according to him, was bipolar, had abused him—broke his ribs with a wine bottle, broke a toe stomping on his foot, put holes in walls—and who had cheated on him), had no children, was 39-turning-40 but looked much younger…

Oh wait, did you catch that? In the previous post I said his profile said 37. Well. That was the first lie. About 2 weeks into talking/starting to date, he admitted to me that he had lied about his age. That he was really turning 40 in just a few weeks. He said he put 37 on his profile to skew the responses toward early-mid 30s women. He said when he put 39, “older women” in their 40s and 50s responded to him. I bought it. Completely. Like without hesitation. At the time, it made sense. It was believable. Or maybe I wanted it to be believable. Either way…I shrugged off that first lie.

He took me on a trip in the first two months to Los Angeles to see his [only] friend who was stationed there. We had a great time. Nothing really weird happened. Well, except that before we left, he’d told me that this couple always wanted to swing with him and his ex-wife, and that they wanted a 3-way with him…but that I shouldn’t worry about anything. He wouldn’t let anything like that happen. I remember being watchful while I was there. They were delightful, actually…very kind. I’m sure he was full of crap; I’m sure he said that so I’d be reminded of how desirable he was. And there was one other thing. The four of us were going out to dinner and he was driving. We were on PCH and there was a lot of traffic and his friends and I were just laughing and joking around and I looked over at him. His face was stern and there was just this look in his eyes that is hard to describe. Sinister? I definitely noted it because I can still see the look in my mind. I asked him if he was ok and he grumbled about the traffic. I know it sounds like nothing at all—people get pissed off when driving in traffic. All I can say is the look in his eyes wasn’t like any look I’d seen in other people. I don’t know what darkness was going on inside him, but it was there.

Before I get into the motorcycle crash he got into in our 3^rd month of dating—yes, yes that happened and is a whole section in itself—I’ll leave with this anecdote. Not many know this (breathe, breathe). It’s hard because it’s probably THE single biggest warning sign that I needed to run the F away from him as fast as I could…but I didn’t. I’m not a dumb girl, and it just eats at me that I didn’t see the danger. Ok. It was probably one of the first times, if not THE first time, I spent the night at his house. It was a work night, we just chilled, had a couple glasses of wine, no big deal. Woke up the next morning, had some breakfast, and he drove me home. He was driving and I was looking at the road and all of a sudden, everything started getting very fuzzy. Like, I couldn’t focus. In my head, I was thinking maybe it was a hangover coming on. I didn’t say anything to him about how weird I was feeling. I didn’t really want to make a big deal about it. He dropped me at my place, I know I went in alone, but I can tell you that the entire day is blacked out. I remember small snippets of just lying on my bed. I started “coming to” toward the late afternoon. I should’ve been freaking the F out, right?!? I should’ve been like HE DRUGGED ME, WHAT THE F?!?! But I didn’t react that way. I talked to him later that night and told him about the weird feeling that came on during the car ride home. He said in a very nonchalant way that he had given me an Ambien the night before when we went to sleep and probably the pill got stuck in my throat and went down when I stood up in the morning. Are you ready? I bought it. I. BOUGHT. IT. Come on, Kate! This part is really hard for me, guys. I don’t know if it was Ambien or something else but it really kind of doesn’t matter—he drugged me. And I didn’t run. Help me get past this part because I’m still very hung up on it to this day.   

Bonus: Other Very Early Warning Signs

--Immaculately clean house. Of course there are people who have extremely clean houses. But he was a bachelor and—I don’t know—it was perfect. Too perfect.
--He fake tanned and whitened his teeth. Often. I’ve never met a guy before or after him who was THAT vain. It made me uncomfortable.
--He compulsively online shopped. UPS or FedEx delivered multiple boxes to his house. Daily. I’ve never seen anything like it before or since.
--He bragged about so many women wanting him.
--He bragged about all the guys he worked with wanting to be like him, how enormously respected he was.
--He was supposed to deploy to Iraq (he never did, but that’s a later-on detail) and began talking about me waiting for him (I thought it was romantic but it was bizarre…we’d only known each other maybe 6-8 weeks).
--He left photos of himself and his ex-wife around to try to make me jealous.

Looking back, of course these are odd behaviors that show manipulation and control, but would most people make the leap to red flags of emotional abuse?

Unlikely.

That's why I'm here. To teach you what I learned.

 

Love and Support for Kate Ranta and Family