I think my evil ex is haunting me.

Finding a Sanctuary

The manager showed me a two-bedroom unit on the fourth floor with key fob entry at every door and cameras covering all the common areas. I walked through each room checking the windows and testing the locks while she explained the building had overnight security and required background checks for all residents.

The second bedroom meant Clare could stay over when I needed company without us cramping each other on a couch. I filled out the application right there and paid the deposit with money I’d been saving for a vacation I never took.

The manager called two days later to say I was approved and we scheduled the lease signing for that Friday. Sitting in her office with the pen in my hand felt like the first real choice I’d made in months instead of just reacting to whatever nightmare came next.

Reclaiming Belongings

I signed every page and got my keys and walked through the empty apartment, running my hands along walls that nobody had ever violated. Moving day happened three weeks later with Clare, Hope, and Cecilia showing up with boxes and packing tape.

We loaded my stuff systematically, and I threw away anything that felt contaminated by the old apartment. The coffee mug with the handle that had to face left went straight in the trash; the thermostat I’d fought with for months stayed on the wall for the next tenant.

We hauled boxes up four flights of stairs because the elevator was broken, and I didn’t even care because this was my place that Annie had never touched. Clare organized my kitchen while Hope assembled my bed frame and Cecilia helped me set up a mail forwarding system through a PO box two neighborhoods over.

The First Night

I gave my new address only to the three of them plus Sebastian and Alice, and told everyone else to use the PO box. We ordered pizza for dinner and sat on my empty living room floor eating off paper plates, and I felt almost normal for the first time since this whole thing started.

They left around 9:00 and I locked the door behind them with my new keys and stood in the silence of my clean apartment. The plea hearing was scheduled for two weeks after I moved in, and I sat in the courtroom with Cecilia while the prosecutor laid out the charges.

Annie stood next to her lawyer looking small and sad and nothing like the monster who choked me awake. The prosecutor detailed every incident with dates and evidence while Annie stared at the floor.

The Guilty Plea

Her lawyer tried arguing she was a grieving friend who made terrible choices, but the judge cut him off and asked if Annie understood the seriousness of stalking and breaking and entering and cyberstalking. Annie said: “Yes.” This was in a voice so quiet I barely heard it.

The judge accepted her guilty plea and sentenced her to three years probation with conditions that included monitored devices, mandatory mental health treatment, and absolute no-contact orders. She had to check in with a probation officer twice a month, and any violations would mean immediate jail time.

The judge looked directly at me when he confirmed the protection order would stay active and told Annie that stalking survivors deserve to feel safe in their own homes. We walked out of the courthouse and I felt this weird mix of relief and disappointment because part of me wanted to face her and tell her exactly what she’d done to me.

Building a Life

Cecilia bought me coffee at the shop across the street and we sat by the window watching people walk past. She reminded me that protecting my mental health mattered more than perfect justice and that I’d done everything right by documenting and reporting.

I told her I kept thinking about how I’d wanted to testify and make Annie hear what those months were like. Cecilia said: “Healing wasn’t about confronting abusers; it was about building a life where they couldn’t reach me anymore.”

We talked about safety planning for the next few months while Annie adjusted to probation, and I promised to keep checking in weekly. She walked me to my car and waited while I checked the back seat and under the vehicle before getting in.

Confirmed Confidentiality

Sebastian called that evening to do final check-ins about my case. He confirmed my protection order was active in the system and my new address was confidential in all police records.

He gave me his direct contact information and told me to call immediately if Annie violated any conditions or if I felt unsafe for any reason. He said I’d done everything right by documenting every incident and trusting my instincts even when other people doubted me.

That validation from someone who dealt with cases like mine every day helped quiet the voice in my head that kept saying I’d overreacted or imagined things. We went through my safety plan one more time, and he reminded me that probation violations were taken seriously and Annie would face real consequences if she tried anything.

Community Vigilance

I spent the next few days introducing myself to neighbors without giving them my whole story. I knocked on doors and explained I had a protection order against someone and asked them not to give out information about me to anyone.

Most people were understanding and promised to let me know if anyone came around asking questions. The building manager flagged my unit in her system for extra security attention and gave me her cell number for emergencies.

She said the overnight security guard would do extra checks on my floor and the camera footage was stored for 90 days if we ever needed it. Having these protections felt strange after months of being completely exposed, but I was learning to accept help instead of trying to handle everything alone.

Foundation for Healing

Alice and I met for therapy that week and worked on developing an ongoing treatment plan. Alice explained: “We’d focus on rebuilding trust in my own judgment since the stalking campaign was designed specifically to make me doubt reality we’d process both the original abuse from my ex and Annie’s harassment as separate but connected traumas.”

She taught me techniques for recognizing when my anxiety was responding to real danger versus old triggers that didn’t match my current situation. I told her about sleeping better in the new apartment, and she said that safety was the foundation for all other healing.

We scheduled weekly sessions for the next three months with the option to reduce frequency once I felt more stable. She reminded me that healing wasn’t linear and some days would be harder than others, but I was making real progress by taking action instead of staying frozen.

Security Maintenance

Raymond emailed to set up monthly device security audits going forward. He’d check my accounts for any unauthorized access and update my protections as new threats emerged.

Having an expert I trusted monitoring my digital safety meant I could use my laptop and phone again without constant paranoia. He walked me through the security measures he’d implemented and explained how to recognize signs of compromise.

I asked him how long I needed to keep doing these audits, and he said at least a year to make sure Annie wasn’t finding ways around her monitored devices. The monthly check-ins became part of my routine like therapy and grocery shopping, just another thing I did to keep myself safe.

The Miracle of Sleep

Three weeks into living in my new apartment, I woke up naturally at 7:00 in the morning instead of jolting awake at 3:00 expecting hands around my throat. I lay in bed staring at my ceiling and realized I’d slept through the entire night without panic attacks or nightmares.

The absence of fear felt like a miracle after months of dreading bedtime. My space was mine, my locks were mine, and nobody had ever had access to violate it.

I got up and made coffee and stood at my kitchen window watching the sunrise and feeling something close to peace. Cecilia called a few days later to invite me to speak at a DV advocacy training session about stalking by proxy.