Diagnose this person.
I'm posting a long essay I wrote last night about my experience at college. That experience wrecked my mental health for years. I'm largely OK now, PTSD notwithstanding.
Since these events, I've wondered what her diagnosis would be. Maybe some of you will be able to shed a little light. (Maybe I should disclaim: I'm not looking for anything official or clinical.)
I'll open my post by excerpting the parts that give clues about this woman's mental state.
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She continued to try to seduce me for many months after that. When she finally quit it, she began to get extremely possessive. She was jealous of every other woman in my dorm and everyone on the school's three women's teams
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. . . she was very powerful, persuasive, and manipulative . . .
***
I was afraid to ask for my key back. I lived in fear that she'd show up on campus, which she did with alarming frequency. She had no business there . . .
***
I heard her open the door with her key and close it behind her. I heard her picking things up, riffling pages. She turned on my radio and changed the station. I heard something fall to the floor but couldn't identify what it was. Then she opened the left-hand door of the closet and looked through my clothes and toiletries as I sweated and shook in the right-hand side. She closed the left-hand closet door and left.
***
She pulled both shades off my window, punched out the screen, jumped out and ran. . . . I found her at the edge of the drop-off . . . .
***
She said, "I love you, and I know you love me because only a true friend would've come after me."
***
I don't remember how long it took her to find where I lived . . . . Her discovery began a long siege of the same behavior. ***
Karen was a different type of "Karen"
In 1981, when I was a freshman at Los Angeles Baptist College in Santa Clarita (now the Master's University), I fell in love with Karen. I'd always felt different, and in getting to know her I began to understand why: I am a lesbian. Feeling only vaguely sinful but delightfully evil, I relished the irony of taking my first lover on a Baptist campus.
Karen was a senior. We shared a lovely year. She graduated; I went home for the summer (I lived in Huntington Beach; she in Arleta). We stayed in touch and saw each other every few weeks. When I returned to LABC in the fall, having grown uncomfortable with her over the summer, I broke off our physical relationship with the very convenient argument that it was sinful.* She continued to try to seduce me for many months after that. When she finally quit it, she began to get extremely possessive. She was jealous of every other woman in my dorm and everyone on the school's three women's teams (I was the student trainer).
I started to try to pull away, but she was very powerful, persuasive, and manipulative. I was weak-willed; for the longest time, I didn't know I could say no to her. As a besotted freshman, I'd given her a key to my room (I had no roommate and kept the same room for my three years there). I was afraid to ask for my key back. I lived in fear that she'd show up on campus, which she did with alarming frequency. She had no business there, but I couldn't do anything about it; it was an open campus.
I began to understand what anxiety was.
My room was at eye-level with the sidewalk outside the dorm, and there was one spot where a person could park very near my window. On a March day in my junior year, I was studying as I heard her car pull up and park there. I closed my notes and books quickly and jumped into the narrow two-door closet. I actually hid in the damned closet. I heard her open the door with her key and close it behind her. I heard her picking things up, riffling pages. She turned on my radio and changed the station. I heard something fall to the floor but couldn't identify what it was. Then she opened the left-hand door of the closet and looked through my clothes and toiletries as I sweated and shook in the right-hand side. She closed the left-hand closet door and left. I waited to hear her car leave, then got out of the closet and collapsed onto my bed and sobbed.
Recovering, I went to talk to my best friend (whom Karen hated passionately), who listened to and consoled me, counseling me to try to find the strength to tell Karen to leave me alone. I worked on a speech all the rest of that day and memorized it that night, not knowing when she'd show up again.
She showed up the next day. I hadn't heard her car, but at least she knocked on the door this time. I let her in. *** She tried to kiss me *** (she never fucking gave up!); I held her away by the shoulders and asked her to sit down on the other bed. I delivered my speech. I told her that her possessiveness, jealousy, and obsession with me were causing me emotional problems and that I needed her to leave me alone. As I talked, she cried. When I was done, we sat in silence for a moment.
Then she jumped up. She pulled both shades off my window, punched out the screen, jumped out and ran. *** The dorm's parking lot was on a hill and the pavement ended at a rocky drop-off of about 20 feet. Somehow, I knew what she intended. I left my room and went after her. *** I found her at the edge of the drop-off, *** looking down, and talked her into walking back with me. She took my hand. I was powerless to make her let go.
We got to my room; I managed to re-hang one of the shades. She was crying. *** She said, "I love you, and I know you love me because only a true friend would've come after me." ***
For the first time, I entertained a suicidal thought. I wanted to bash my head against the wall until I couldn't feel anything anymore. I had my chance to be rid of her, and I blew it.
The next day, I went to the registrar's office to see if I had enough units to graduate with an AA (I was in my third year, and although I'm smart, I was a poor student). I had enough units, so I told the registrar it was my intent to graduate in May. The day after graduation, my sisters came to get me and all my stuff. I hadn’t told Karen I’d be graduating.
I don't remember how long it took her to find where I lived (I no longer lived where she’d visited earlier), but it wasn't long. *** Her discovery began a long siege of the same behavior. *** The only differences were that she didn't show up as frequently, and that I told her every time to stop showing up and leave me alone. Only after I answered a long and pleading letter - begging for love in a suicide threat** - by demanding that she finally return my class ring did she leave me alone. She returned the ring and, remarkably, I never heard from her again.
A few years later, I spent two months in a psychiatric hospital, the trauma of Karen combining with childhood trauma to lay me out until I was nearly incapable of conducting a life. In the ensuing years I've found peace and healing, but I will never forget the fear and bitter anguish of those last two years at LABC.
* I was well and truly brainwashed. I've been an atheist now for 37 years.
** Many thanks to Shawn Colvin for the turn of phrase (song: Polaroids)
TL;DR: Psychopathic woman ruins college & nearly my life, but I prevail in the end