Being The Savior, Not The Saved

As many of you know, I have recently made the trip to Colorado to get away from Phoenix and start again.  This was a good idea when it first came up, since my situation there was terrible.  My ex Chris decided to leave me with no notice because he decided he wanted to hang out with bad influences and party to his life's content, instead of answering to a worried girlfriend at home.  This broke my heart completely but a friend decided to try to help me out the best she could, because she knows how bad it is to be in a situation such as the one I was in. 

I made the 22 hour journey to Denver, CO, where I was met with cold weather and clouds in the sky, neither of which is very frequent in Phoenix.  She dropped me and my stuff off, I promptly took a long ass nap (it is very hard to sleep on those terrible buses!), and then, set out to look for jobs.  My first night here was good.  I got to hang out with her for the first time in four years, I met her husband, and she showed me around town a bit.  Not much to it, honestly.  Greeley is pretty small, easy to navigate, and the people are pretty friendly.  I was sure it would be a great place for me to be.

Unfortunately, the problem isn't the town.  The problem lies within the walls of the apartment I have moved into.  My friend, Alisha, had mentioned to me several times how she was alone a lot and her husband is kind of whacky and they're having some problems within their marriage.  He told her it would be nice for her to have a friend down here and he didn't mind me staying here.  I took that as, he's a nice guy and cares for his wife.  I've met the guy once.  We'll call him, M.  The first time I met M was when I was working in a convenience store and they happened to be visiting Michigan.  This was back in 2007.  He was very quiet, didn't shake my hand, and just nodded at me, even though I was acting ecstatic to finally meet my best friend's husband.  Even after just one meeting, I knew I didn't like him.  Call me judgemental, but I didn't.  So when I arrived here, I already had my first impression in my head, and you know how hard it is to change that once it's there.  M didn't even say hi to me when we picked him up from his job.  He was completely quiet and said hardly three words to me.  The rest of the weekend was much the same- except I got to experience him while he is, in one word, wasted.

I used to think that when I got drunk I could get out of hand at times, and definitely step out of line.  Compared to him, though, I am a saint.  As soon as Friday night hit, it was nonstop fighting.  About nothing.  Then, I got to see why Alisha is having such a hard time with him.  M is violent.  Not necessarily towards her, but towards the apartment, their dog, his things.  I'm not exaggerating when I tell you this: he is nuts.  I tried to tell myself that he was just drunk, but now, I know better.

M is a retired Marine.  He has PTD (post-traumatic disorder) and has nightmares and rages he cannot control.  He is also a person that refuses to get help.  For the past two years Alisha has dealt with his anger and bouts of depression.  He wakes up in the middle of the night thrashing around, then wakes up sobbing because he can't save one of his friends.  It is quite sad when you think about it.  He risked his life to fight in a war that he doesn't believe in, and now he is suffering for it.  However, instead of trying to get help, he is making his wife suffer as well.

He runs into doors on purpose.  The door to my bedroom has two holes in it.  There is a poster on my wall that covers a giant hole.  The bathroom door doesn't shut properly because he rammed his head into it.  There are giant white plaster marks all over the living room from where he has thrown various objects and himself into the walls.  The closet doors in their room and the pantry are completely ruined because he has decided to run into them.  Their dog, a 130 pound bull mastif, is completely terrified of him because M has thrown him around and also choked him.  Alisha finally admitted the reason she is wearing a foot immobilizer is because he threw her across the living room and bones in her foot with dislocated.  She may need surgery to correct it if this shoe she is wearing now doesn't fix it.

She has lied to her doctor and her family about the situation.  She lied to me, and has brought me into the situation.  I cannot pretend to even like this guy because I know what is going on.  He got in my face tonight and started questioning me.  Thankfully, I am able to look people right in the eye when I talk to them and not show fear.  He asked some questions and I had quick smart ass answers, and he said he liked that, but then later he stated, "You don't like me, I know it."  What was I supposed to say?  I replied with, "I don't even know you well enough yet to know whether I do or not."  And just shrugged.

I guess this is not my business.  But I will not live here, in the midst of all of this and just keep my mouth shut.  When he gets physical, I will not hide in my room until it stops.  I will be calling the police, something she refuses to do because he will get in deep trouble, due to the fact that he is a Marine.  I guess he would actually go to prison for it because, as she put it, he is a "trained and dangerous weapon of the military."  I suppose that would cause a problem.

I do not know how to save this girl.  It is not even my responsibility, but I sat her down tonight and told her, "I won't live here while this happens.  I cannot watch this and not do anything.  It is your choice to stay, but I will be leaving as soon as I can."  I wasn't trying to be ungrateful by any means, and she understood that.  I'm guessing she didn't realize how bad it is because she started crying and confessed she didn't even think this was a bad night for him.  I couldn't believe that.  This was after the dog came into my room, scared, and laid beside me on the bed for a while.  I knew they were fighting, but I didn't realize it was because he had done something to the dog.  M walked by the room and saw the dog in here, and then grabbed the door handle, and repeatedly slammed the door several times very hard, scaring the dog even more.  I couldn't believe it.  He did it in front of me, in the room that I am staying in!  That's when I told her how I felt.

She said she doesn't see it like everyone else because she lives inside the box.  Everyone else can see better because they are outside.  I don't know if that's how I would explain it.  I would probably say, she has her head in the sand and is afraid to pull it out and face the truth.  This guy is abusive and could possibly severely hurt her- or worse, kill her. 

After a very long talk and cry (her, not me), she decided that she wants to leave.  There's a whole other part to the story, but I'll save it for later.  I'm just wondering what other people would do in this situation.  Stick by their friend through it, or pull out and leave it to them?  I can't see myself abandoning her, but I don't want to be in the middle of this, where I could put myself in danger.  I know a lot of people that have kept their nose out of bad situations because they didn't want to be involved, but later learned had they said something, the turn out would have been different.

And I thought life in Phoenix was tough...