The tall stranger confidently walked into the den where I was resting. He was out of place, but oddly confident and sure of himself. He owned the room.
“I’m looking for Chris,” he said.
The next seconds unfolded slowly, and it was like someone else answered him for me. He then reached into his pocket.
I had never been so certain I was about to die, but he instead looked at his phone and ran out.
A former friend I loved, along with his partner and others they’ve teamed up with, have been at war against me and Kage for months, since they caused a major racist incident at our corner bar and we told the friend he had to move out. In the past five or six months we have dealt with endless harassment, culminating with the sex ad telling men that a woman at our house wanted them to just walk in. Men kept coming. The door handle still rattled five days after the first incident.
This has impacted all aspects of my life. From October 2021 to October 2022, my real estate sales totaled about $2.5 million. From October 2022 to April: zero.
I don’t answer most calls because of all the burner numbers our former friend uses to taunt and insult. I’m distracted and irritable. I manage property, and several times I’ve walked into the wrong unit.
I needed help, and my primary care physician gave me a referral. During my first visit, he noted that may face lit up when discussing the good times with my former friend, and said that I haven’t processed the loss and the betrayal. He also diagnosed me with PTSD, but said I have an great foundation to build from.
The show will go on, and I feel this is a healthy turning point. I have a plan of action.
I appreciate all the kindness we’ve received as we’ve been dealing with all of this. Hard times test bonds and put things into perspective. We will never forget who was there for us.