Abusive friendship discussion below the cut, and all the awful things that it happens to involve. You are under no obligation to read. I am fine, I just need to get this off my chest. There will be more in the future, You can absolutely block my tag if you don’t want to see it.
I can't help but look back on my experience with paranoia and over analysis of every moment I can vividly remember. Even the good times now, I feel sure were just carrots on the end of the proverbial stick to keep me certain that what I was feeling was wrong, or somehow not to be trusted. Nothing about that friendship was healthy... As recent events have come to show me very few of my previous friendships were. They were simply my own ignorance to what constituted mutual respect. I cannot blame myself for everything that occurred but I was not blameless. I had instincts. I had awareness. They were telling me for very nearly a year that something was WRONG and I did not act on any of them. Even when I had the option in my hands. The actual chance to make a break, I was too weak to do so.
Allow me to try and summarize exactly how terrible that friendship was; I had previously maintained an awful friendship with a different person. This terrible experience lasted into my experience with the focus of this piece, Tucker. For sake of summation lets call this previous person P. I was involved with P throughout my mid-to-late Jr high school life, to long past graduation. It was briefly romantic for a period of months at some of my lowest points, then quickly back to platonic. The entirety of the friendship lasted 10-or-so years. The way P treated me was so reprehensible that I can only give the following as examples, completely free of any chronological order:
P owned and preached the wonders of both "The Secret" and "The Game"
I have since been told that, after providing examples of his chat logs to my Fiancee, I was the subject of extreme "Negging" from P which, at the time I had no idea what the hell it was or what to look for.
P guilted me into sex during the romantic stage.
"I thought I could trick you into having sex with me" After the romantic stage. Continued to push for such things, including staying the night at his home when I was very clearly uncomfortable, given the previous quote.
P threatened to break my arm when I was furious that they had stolen a game of mine and sold it without my permission because he needed money. I cannot remember if this was during or after the romantic stage.
When confronted with the harsh truth that I had a significant other, P trapped me in their moving car under the pretense of offering a ride home, to shout "WHAT IS HIS DICK BIGGER THAN MINE!?" among other nonsense. This was at least 5 years after any romantic interest that I must stress, was MUTUALLY AGREED TO BE OVER.
P once arrived unannounced at my home after having cut through the skin of his arm to the fatty layers to make me, Not a doctor, not a hospital, ME, FIX IT.
Another instance, unannounced arrival at my home, P claims to have attempted to hang himself after I did not respond to a 3 am message because I was sleeping.
Once more, in the moving car, under the pretense of “Lets hang out”. P, after having accumulated debt with frivolous spending, tells me in great detail how he wishes to kill himself for insurance money as we are conveniently within a few blocks of, and heading toward my personal bank. I was broke when I was finally returned home.
There is more of course, but this isn’t about P. Past a point I was only maintaining that friendship with P out of fear that he would do harm to me or my family if I cut off that connection. When I did eventually make the break? In one instance he called my home over 14 times, from different locations and payphones to try and scream at me further within the span of an evening, by which I mean 2 entire hours. This harassment was consistent for a month. Then would stop and start, with a gap of a few weeks in-between, that eventually became longer and longer.
So I hope you can only imagine how boggling it is for me to say, that this person that followed after, Tucker, who claimed to be my friend, who I dared to believe was my friend was completely worse in every respect.
I am almost willing to accept that P did not know any better. Perhaps his experience with bullying or addiction to self pity was a phase he can correct, and function healthily with other people. Have success and prosper and benefit from real, genuine change instead of wildly rapid and incorrect self diagnosis and purposely aggravating injury for sympathy.
Tucker, however, was insidious from remarkably early on and continues to be so. To the point of publicly and noisily attempting to reconcile with others they have wronged when they were aware that they were at risk of being outed for their previous behavior. Make no mistake, Tucker has done this before, to others before me, and to others after me.
The darker saga of my life started at the tail end of my friendship with P. I was frightened, scared, and tired and most importantly, desperate to escape. Tucker could not have known that when they first approached me, but they did not hesitate to exploit my loneliness and comparative social ignorance. The first while was golden. My anxiety to be speaking to someone new had probably made things easy for Tucker to settle in close. I wanted nothing more than to shower a new friend with attention, because it seemed natural. That was how a healthy friendship was, right? I was happy to have someone I felt so connected with. We seemed to agree on everything! Amazing!
If that was ever mutual, It didn’t last for very long.
Once, and only once do I ever recall falling into a pit of misery and be gently pep talked by my new friend. It was within the first honeymoon weeks of the friendship. It did not take long for my calmer depressions to become boring, or to be a subject of ire. A bother. Something that was sucking attention away from Tucker. Possibly my depression was seen as too self centered when my focus should have been on them. If I was depressed how was I meant to pamper the new friend? (My Misery would eventually be met with outright hostility, only serving to deepen my lows. After a point I could not be happy if Tucker was awake or I had PHYSICALLY LEFT MY HOUSE BEYOND THE REACH OF ANY COMPUTER. I was unable to reach the previous highs of happiness I felt or feel any comfort from my significant other. I had not considered suicide for years prior, never once had required crisis chats... Then all of this happened, and I had to seek out an online anonymous support chat four times in a month to get talked down.)
It was around then, that dramatic, catastrophic, terrible things would start to happen. Cruel parents would remove the door to his bedroom because he wasn’t allowed to have any form of PRIVACY. HOW HORRID. Threatened to take away his COMPUTER, THE GALL. His mother would call him HORRIBLE THINGS, YOU POOR CREATURE. He would thankfully be out of that house soon and off to his dream school, at least!
YES AND IT WAS GREAT, BUT ALSO AWFUL. From day to day the instructors praised him as a prodigy or he was the absolute worst the school has ever seen. From acing any test to the brink of catastrophic failure and a subject of mockery by his teachers. When nothing either I or Z, his partner at the time, said would cheer him up; a miracle occurred and the sweet old woman principle/dean/owner would pull him aside, and have a gentle, exactly-what-he-needed-to-hear word for him in the office.
“I have never seen someone hate themselves so much.”
...is what the older woman told him, or so Tucker said. As close to word for word as my memory will allow. I never forgot that line. Beyond how staged it seemed, there was more to it. It was... troubling, for some reason. One that I could not quite place at the time, but on reflection was just the first, blatantly obvious example of Tucker’s one-upmanship pattern of behavior. It had all happened quite recently after something I had said. I cannot confirm the exact distance between the initiating cause and this transparent miracle because I am not a computer, but it might have been as recently as the day before, or the night before this early morning/lunchtime event. I had shown my trust to both Z and Tucker by discussing the long reigning troubles of my deep seeded self loathing. Something that I struggle to keep under wraps because it is quite predominant in my thoughts, but I am well aware at how open negative self image and esteem can off put others.
And now, I could not help but feel on some level that I was being put in my place. Shown that no, Whatever I could do, Tucker could do better.
Like suffering was a game he needed to win.
(Its difficult to properly put into words how insidious this pattern actually became. Because it was so...Slow, constant and cumulative. And when I and Z attempted not to play this game in the future. By keeping our own poor luck or bad times to ourselves, Tucker would simply try to one-up himself. With Shocking sudden revelations ie “I KILLED SOMEONE BEFORE YOU KNOW”. A multi purpose activity to keep us constantly uncertain and off balance. As my fiancee put it, to keep me on my back foot at all times.... it never truly stopped. Not until Tucker was out of my life. There were only ‘breaks’ before the next shocking event. Which could literally be hours. Never more than days.
A more obvious example was when we dared to play player-vs-player type games with each other on OMGPOP before it vanished from existence. If either me or Z (and Z often did because Z had talent for swapples) dared pull ahead in score too many times, Tucker would throw a literal snit fit, clam up, and punish us with silence and short, cutting replies or going so far as to dROP THE GAME FOREVER. UGH. It was something I had to point out to Z, and confessed to Z that I would have to throw games and come last if only to try and circumvent the bullshit that I recognized would follow.)
BUT WHO CARES? Hallelujah!!! HE FEELS BETTER! Shame his internet is so limited, OOPS HE WENT OVER HIS USE LIMIT, BETTER PAY FOR IT FOR HIM BECAUSE HE’S BROKE. Yay I can talk to my friend again! Time to be more responsible about internet use!! Tucker had a car! and freedom to go into town to go eat (Wait, but the broke-ness?) We could watch things together while he got food at a place with free wifi! How great! Haha! That was fun! Time to go home now...
...And then he was almost raped on the way back!
When within two months of meeting, more atrocities occurred than you could comfortably count on both hands, all the time slowly scaling in intensity. Something was absolutely not kosher. Call me skeptical, but I am unwilling to believe that someone could be assaulted by someone masquerading as a police officer with the intent to rape someone on the hood of their car along a Highway IN BROAD DAYLIGHT and so NARROWLY ESCAPING, FRIENDS, would not be followed up by the police for comment, statement, or be completely forgotten about within a matter of days.
Because that is how long it took for it to never be brought up again.
This wasn’t the only example of such things, though it is the Schrodinger’s tumors that constantly come to mind. Conveniently reappearing and never changing but always there were ‘more lumps.’
Perhaps it was fate that my mother was diagnosed with cancer after the entirety of the Tucker saga, because then I was able to see first hand exactly what gets done about cancerous tumors. The lead up: My mother was bleeding constantly for over a year. Treated for hormone problems instead. Given prescriptions of IRON SUPPLEMENTS it was so constant. Only just before her chemotherapy was about to begin did she decide to let me know that they had known for months it was cervical cancer. The months and months of treatment, tests, concern, exhaustion. The loss of so much self sufficiency because of the radiation and chemotherapy. My mother could barely maintain consciousness to go to her appointments. The discussion and scheduling of surgery we were not certain we’d need, but sadly would agree would be better to book ahead of time, “Just in case.” SHE STILL DOES NOT FEEL ENTIRELY RECOVERED, AND HER ABILITY TO DIGEST CERTAIN FOODS HAS CHANGED MAYBE FOREVER.
None of that. Ever. No discussion of treatment. No going to see doctors. Nothing. Just “I may have another lump” and reminders of “Its totally going to be fatal” To make both Z and I upset whenever was convenient. Perhaps for failing to meet his increasingly specific but unspoken standards in some way. (As well, outright denial to seek any form of treatment when we both expressed understandable alarm and concern.)
Tucker enjoyed creating problems, as well. Especially with Z. Fights could start over the drop of a hat, and only short of literally did.
There was once a fight over the redesigning of a mask, from a series of role plays I was not involved in. Z was reacting poorly to something he liked, changing. When Tucker confided me that this REACTION WAS UNACCEPTABLE OVER SOMETHING SO SMALL, I AGREED. But I was blind to what was actually occurring... I had noticed Tucker’s behavior and general language changing, but was convinced at the time that it was just depression.
No, It was Tucker preparing to shed an unwanted acquaintance. And that was Z. I was the subject of the exact same treatment later on. Tucker would make something important to his target unstable or unreliable, Then poke and prod to goad his target into an explosion, be it anger or misery... And for Z it was the stories and role plays he shared with Tucker.
Role plays were a drug that Tucker had given to Z very soon after first meeting him. Tucker offered the activity as a replacement for Z’s friend, who was also Tuckers Ex, and another unwanted acquaintance. (Z was soon after completely isolated from his previous friend.) So they wrote together. Tucker, always with boundless enthusiasm and never wearing out. There was never any suggestion that this was a problem.... Until I entered the dynamic. Even after, Tucker maintained a tight hold on the supply of Z’s entertainment. To the point when I offered to write for Z to help him calm down, he outright refused. It had to be Tucker. The role plays and designs were the last things that both seemed to enjoy on any level about each other.... And so became the primary source of fighting. I have little doubt this was on purpose. Tucker cultivates dependency for the sake of control.
My natural aversion to conflict bid me to step in whenever this happened... and it happened a LOT. As I feel the anxiety and stress as if I were directly involved, I could not handle the feeling that two friends were fighting, though Z was not as close as Tucker. And Lord have mercy, did Tucker ever love to paint Z as a monster, but I will get to that later. I spent the entirety of my Christmas that year trying to get them to stop fighting. Nothing I did mattered, not in any real, caring sense. By far, (at least until the new year) the most exhausting experience. I was physically ill by the end of it, though only Z ended up hearing about it.
This was 3 months after I had met Tucker. I was already certain that I could not maintain my well being and the attention demanded of me in this friendship. 3 Months in, and i was not entirely certain I would survive this. To a degree, I am still physically attempting to recover from the strain and blood pressure that surfaced in that time.
But I didn’t matter then... To myself, I mean. I hadn’t mattered before and That wasn’t about to change. And that isn’t what good friends do? They don’t just ABANDON each other! and I wanted so badly to be a GOOD FRIEND! So I endured. (He used those words frequently. Buzzwords that I myself provided. I should have never uttered my concerns about treating others well. About wanting to be a good friend. It was just distilled and fed back to me in my own personalized brainwashing. Though he would adopt hurtful ‘useful’ language from whatever circle he was striving to be a part of at the time. Given the end of this occurred at his breach into Tumblr; the word he loved to throw at me was ‘Toxic’.)
(During editing, I had another discussion with Z,
“did you ever get that shit that I got, where [Tucker] actually said "BAAWW I'M ABUSIVE" and I thought it was ridiculous so I fucking laughed and defended [them]. "Abusive people wouldn't say they were abusive! IMPOSSIBLE"
It was a rather frequent occurrence, for Tucker to take their known terrible behavior and throw a good old fashioned pity party. Lamp shading the self destructive and insidious patterns that were tearing both Z and I apart at the seams.)
The only thing that seemed to get through any semblance of worth was when I drew pictures for Tucker. I was enthusiastic to provide; because I foolishly believed that something we both liked would be acceptable. ‘Z NEVER draws for me!’ He’d say. It made me feel proud to provide nice things for someone. And was briefly content to receive whatever I would offer. because that is what they were, gifts. A thing I chose to make.
It was fine....until I was told, not asked, TOLD, I should start drawing things I was not comfortable with (Though there were many shades, The requests for gay porn were never ending, and while this was fine initially, it began to feel wrong with its frequency, especially after I had said, the first and many times after that it was ‘not my thing’... The language changed so gently it was difficult to notice until it was as plain as “YOU SHOULD DRAW THIS” without any regard for my wants or comfort. I was told midway through this friendship that with my optimized 100~kb files, I had drawn 69 mb worth of art for him. Bragging about my generosity to others.) Tucker would be disappointed at anything less than his specific requests. It became obvious I was merely a tool. Input idea, get art. That was all I was in the end. That, and a host of problems and ‘sick’ whenever I needed help. More examples exist, enough of them that I feel it may be better suited to its own text. I will leave one later instance, either way; purposely excluding me from “MY BEST FRIENDS~” collections of gifts when Tucker first began his escapades onto tumblr, sucking up to his next chosen targets.
I still don’t entirely know what happened to all of them. There are some I even miss. Who I had hoped wouldn’t be brought under Tucker’s spell... Not that they would have believed me if I said anything back then. It was hard enough to believe when I was in it.
I still struggle with feelings of blaming myself. Had I spoken up sooner perhaps things would have ended sooner, for me at least. But I didn’t. My silence was golden and the only thing that maintained any form of peace, and I knew it.... Though It didn’t really, of course. Everything could be perfectly fine one moment but the instant I dared consider sleep or let my guard down in the slightest, suddenly a father would PUNCH THEM IN THE FACE AND BREAK THEIR GLASSES AND GIVE THEM A BLOODY NOSE. Or worse. Or something entirely different. All of it convenient for the current discussions at hand. (Suddenly being contacted by an ex of 8 or more years ago the same night I was supposedly displaying similar behavior, for instance.)
Another thing that stuck out on reflection and discussion was how furious Tucker would become when Z and I would talk, together, with each other, by ourselves, no Tucker, alone. Whenever Z and I spoke it agitated Tucker beyond belief. Quickly we would be accused of conspiracy unless logs were promptly pasted back, (and accused of TALKING SHIT when we did) and should I ever dare agree that Tucker was being unreasonable I was a traitor of the highest order. One moment I could be the most precious, special thing in Tucker's life; but if I spoke out, it was met with fury. Or whenever I was overcome by the stress and emotional manipulation that was happening it was all "Women, right?" behind my back, to his partner... which I am sure Tucker never dared believe Z would show me what they said.
And this was a key realization long after the fact. Tucker was constantly trying to put us at odds with each other so we would not sit and corroborate our experiences. Were we in more stable environments we might have even managed to put together what was happening. We both were aware that something wasn’t right; but what we could not understand from the inside was that it wasn’t us. There was a common factor in all the misery and drama, and it was Tucker.
I know now, thanks to the openness of others, that one of the flaws in Tucker’s Modus Operandi was that they could not keep their lies straight. Only certain specific details would remain constant. For a greater glimpse at the inconsistency I recommend reading the post provided by Psshaw, located here. (Who’s experience is nearly a mirror image and who’s writing is much less fractured. Also, occurred a year apart from the end of mine if you want to see the patterns continue.) I was privy both to stories of how he assisted the suicide his brother (who he never mentioned by name ever to me), as well as murdering a driver for tailgating by trapping them (?) on tracks (???) in the path of an oncoming train (?????) Both of which have had so many retelling and inconsistencies from person to person it is ludicrous I ever believed any of it.
Tuckers lies were not limited to his own life, either. Often Tucker would tell me stories about his partner, Z. How Z murdered a kitten. How Z was Scandinavian and therefor absolutely 100% going to beat Tucker and probably kill him. (he was smart enough to wait until Z was unable to comment on this directly, and could cool me down so I would never openly BARK AT Z like a protective friend WOULD. Again, they had not yet ever met in person, these accusations were entirely baseless.)
God, it all feels so unreal, reading this back to myself. So fantastical. And it hurts to think that I have not yet scratched the surface of the level of bullshit that I was fed and swallowed. The surprise images of graphic self harm when I was not UPSET enough. The screaming and chastising when I was TOO UPSET. The extortion over threats of homelessness or worse to get me to give up my savings or do his college work (SPEND 8 HOURS ON THIS MATH SITE SO IT DON’T FAIL HERE’S MY INFO, AND HEY WRITE MY AMERICAN HISTORY HOMEWORK, CANUCK. YOU MUST KNOW ALL ABOUT IT.) The days when I would spend 3 hours typing straight on a roleplay that was HIS IDEA only for him to decide he wasn’t in the mood, always after I had exhausted myself and wasted my day trying to keep HIM happy.
There was an entire year of this.
With a HORRIBLE EVENT happening every other day... If it wasn’t a fight it was dream crushing bullying by some random stranger or physical assault or his mom wanted to kill the puppy he bought himself on whim (who both Z and I witnessed petting and baby-talking and playing with the puppy on a live stream.) There’s just so much and it makes me want to cry. I feel so overwhelmed with information I want to tell, but very little idea of where to start. Hence the very very likely multiple, disjointed parts. I am sorry.
I KNOW how it sounds. I know because on some level I knew it was all lies at the time. I feel like that was part of the point of behaving that way in the first place; to give Tucker some reasonable doubt should these lies ever be brought to light. To make the victims look less credible for the extravagance of the stories they have to try to justify believing... because when you’re under Tucker’s influence you aren’t the same person. When you’re in an abusive anything, you are not the same person.
I sound so much like the warning I am about to give you... but I am sincere, internet, strangers, friends. I'm cutting this short as it is starting to get to me. Years after the fact, and still it gets to me.
This is the internet. People Lie.
There is nothing wrong with falling for lies. There’s also nothing wrong with being skeptical. Skepticism could have saved me some serious fucking hurting.
There are people out there out to take you for all your worth, because they genuinely believe they have the right. That its all justifiable to use you because they will never suffer repercussions. There are people that will twist you to their own ends. That will wring every charitable dollar you have to give. That will project every ounce of abuse they have committed onto you, simply because you were there and no longer willing to take it anymore.
There are bogey men out to hurt you because it is easy, and fun for them, and feel no genuine remorse for their behavior; only that they were caught. As much as we don’t want to believe that there are people out there like that, there are. You aren’t a bad or naïve person for giving someone the benefit of the doubt, but it is wiser for everyone involved to take everything with a grain of salt. To say “No.” They cannot improve, or learn a healthier way of coexisting with others if you just let them continue. But it is NOT YOUR JOB, EITHER.
YOU have the right to walk away from ALL OF IT. Family, Friend, Lover, it doesn’t goddamn matter.
You are not responsible for anyone else’s happiness. Just yours.
And you have a right to be safe, you really really do.
