Manipulated into Fear: There Is Always a Pattern

MANipulated

Into Fear

There Is

Always

A Pattern

Based on a true story

Marvela Dawnay

AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: 1-800-839-8640

© 2013 Marvela Dawnay. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 12/19/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4772-9884-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-9885-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-9886-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012923456

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Contents

Preface

Introduction

Prologue

Chapter 1 Reunited and Falling in Love

Chapter 2 At Work with the Devil

Chapter 3 Executive Living the Dark Side

Chapter 4 Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 5 Playing Games

Chapter 6 Lies and Affairs

Chapter 7 Taken by an Addict

Chapter 8 What Goes Around Comes Around (Karma)

Chapter 9 Putting the Past behind Me

Chapter 10 Loneliness Caused Me to Be Blind

Chapter 11 Realization of Past Patterns

Chapter 12 Steered in the Wrong Direction

Chapter 13 Conned under Pressure

Chapter 14 Light Flashes to Darkness

Chapter 15 Used Up by a Snake

Chapter 16 Loss of Power

Chapter 17 Mentally and Financially Devastated

Chapter 18 Total Control

Chapter 19 Running out of Time

About the Author

Preface

I attribute my motivation and encouragement to a number of people in my life. LaKina, my daughter, told me that whatever I touched in life was a success and that she felt it was a great idea for me to write my book. LaKina said, Mom, you have helped businesses and people to become successful; now it is your turn for success. My parents, family, friends, and associates were consistent in letting me know that they had confidence in me to write an inspiring book. Every time I let them read some of my book they said, Marvela, just keep writing. My mother, Rose, would sit with me for hours and read what I had already written and give me her opinion. I feel so fortunate to know that other people do care for me and I no longer have to live with secrets, embarrassment, and feeling ashamed due to a psychopath who manipulated me into fear for thirteen years.

There are three reasons why I felt the need to write my book:

Many women are manipulated into fear. When this abuse occurs they think the person abusing them will change. I want women to gain the knowledge and information they need to know that, if they are victims, they will realize that this type of person will never change and when they leave their relationships, they don’t go back!

I would like to educate and aid children who have been exposed to this type of abuse so that they do not make the wrong choices later in life and they leave their past behind them.

I feel that it is important to let others know who Rolf really is as a person. At the present time when customers are at the dealership that Rolf and I use to own, they perceive Rolf as a great guy who grew up on the farm and has lived a perfect life. In actuality Rolf is a manipulating con who has been a convict most of his life and has used others to get where he is today. He thrives on having control over customers who have bad credit and a hard time making ends meet. Rolf talks negatively about these customers and puts them down behind their backs. Rolf needs to be reminded that he is the Buy Here–Pay Here customer who comes into the dealership every day. It is only because of me that he is where he is today. People who know Rolf and Marvela are shocked that Marvela ended up working for Rolf and he wrote her paychecks. What a despicable thought!

I began to ask myself, How am I going to remember all this information to write my book? In 2004 when I went through my second nightmare with Rolf I began writing what had happened to me from 12/1998 to 2004. I was not sure if I had kept the information. I began to look for the notebook, and I found it upstairs tucked away in the spare bedroom closet. There were eighteen pages that I had written from my past. I could not believe it.

I am the type of person who saves information, so I began going through my files in my filing cabinet. I found handwritten papers regarding my past tribulations that I had written and information that Rolf wrote with dates and times when he swore that he had God in his life and he was trying to change. He was told that writing down his wrongdoings would help him. (Well, it did not help him!) Also, I had kept everything regarding trips I had won with the bank, my old résumés, and a lot of photo albums with pictures that had dates and times on them. I told my daughter and my mom what I had found, and they said, No one keeps all that stuff. Well, I did. There is a reason for everything, so we knew it was meant to be.

When I began writing my book there were days when I would ask myself, Should I write a book or just forget about it? I know this is crazy, but I would visualize Oprah interviewing me and asking me questions about my life being manipulated into fear. I could hear Dr. Phil saying, What made you take this guy back three times and marry him? Did you not learn the first time? I needed someone to help me have a positive mind-set. On Sunday mornings I would watch Joel Osteen, a motivational speaker. I began recording his shows and watching him two or three times a day. He would talk about being a positive person, success, and so many subjects that related to my life. Listening to him made me realize that my life was going to be okay. It was time to move on, and the best was yet to come for me. Joel said, When you declare God’s favor all throughout the day, are good to someone else in the midst of your storm, and have blessings to help others, your test will be your testimony. I did not realize it at the time, but I had always been good to someone else in the midst of my storms and had blessings to help others. One particular person I have helped for seven years is Oscar, the cake baker. To this day Oscar tells me that every time he has felt like giving up he calls me, and I am always there for him. When I talk to Oscar I always tell him he can become successful and to never give up. He told me that every time after the phone call he made to me something spectacular would come into his life.

He said, Marvela, it was as if God was using you to show me the way to success.

Because of Joel’s words, Oprah’s intuition, and Dr. Phil’s expertise I was determined to write a successful book. These three people inspired me to write my book. I want to thank them for being in the spotlight daily to help others.

I recall Joel Osteen telling a story about Nehemiah. Nehemiah asked the king if he could go to Jerusalem to help rebuild it. The king granted Nehemiah’s request. Nehemiah had other requests, and the king granted all of them because the gracious hand of God was upon him. When he went to Jerusalem the total place was in disarray. Nehemiah told the people about the gracious hand of God in his life. What should have taken at least a year only took fifty-two days. Joel said, When you realize God’s hand of favor is upon you, you will accomplish your dreams faster than what you thought.

With this in mind I went to the store with my daughter and purchased a new Mac laptop, two memory sticks, and a fire-safe box. My writing began soaring like an eagle.

Introduction

I married and divorced the same man three times in a period of thirteen years. His name was Rolf. During this time, I was living the dark side of life but others perceived me as living a happy and perfect life. While I was going through my third divorce, I kept thinking that I should write a book about my thirteen years of hell with him. Never take it for granted that you know a person. Often women like myself do not know they are being manipulated into fear. We do not even realize that we really are afraid of the person, because we have adapted to this way of life. Many times during my relationships with Rolf, I was dealing with depression and I did not know it. If you have children and they grow up in this environment, they are more apt to be attracted to others who manipulate them into fear.

When I first began to write my book I was going to name it Nobody Cares. The more I talked to friends and family, the more I realized that they did care; it was just that I was too embarrassed and ashamed to reach out to them. I read through what I had written up to chapter 10 and learned that my book was about me being manipulated into fear, and there was always a pattern. I began to see the traits and patterns of Rolf and discovered that he was also a psychopath. I did my research and found that I was correct.

In the beginning of my relationships with Rolf, he was dedicated to Christ, family oriented, charming, kind, respectful, likeable, and loving. He complimented me all the time, apologized for his actions, and knew how to make me feel sorry for him. Since he was like this, he could con me into doing things for him that I felt I should not do.

As time went on, because of his actions, I would accuse him of wrongdoings. He became outraged, screaming at me and using profanity. After he gained control of me, he began to mentally and physically abuse me.

Sometimes Rolf seemed to care about me; he was able to fake his feelings. I found that Rolf had no remorse or feelings for anyone and could never relate to the pain I endured when I was with him. I always felt like Rolf was two different people.

I knew when Rolf was lying to me because his story never added up. If I would confront him with a lie, he continued to tell me more lies, and try to convince me that it was all in my mind. No matter how Rolf acted or what he did, he was able to con me into doing things I did not want to do. I gave into him out of being afraid of what he might do to me. He was a very sneaky, deceitful man.

Rolf was very good about getting family members, other people, and attorneys to take his side. He always told them that I was crazy and that the things I said were not true. He tried to make them believe that it was all in my mind. It was as though Rolf wore a mask and other people did not see him when he unmasked.

Rolf would talk bad about my friends and not allow me to contact them. There were times when he would try to keep me away from my family members.

During our relationships, I began to see that Rolf was self-centered and liked to live by his own rules. (He never worried about getting caught when he did things wrong.) He had no conscience.

After my third divorce, I learned why Rolf chose me to be his victim. It was simply because he knew I was a kind, loving, empathetic person, and he had a sense of self-hatred. By knowing this, he knew he could take control of my life to benefit himself.

In the past Rolf has stalked me, and since I have been away from him, I have received strange e-mails to my old e-mail address. Also, people who know Rolf are trying to find out what I am doing now. Due to these issues, I no longer have Facebook and I have a new e-mail address. I feel as if I need to live in a box.

As you read my book, you will know what traits and patterns to look for when you begin a relationship or if you are currently being manipulated into fear. Once you leave this type of relationship, never go back. The person will never change. It took me thirteen years before I realized what this man had done to me. Don’t let it take you this long for realization. If you suspect that someone is being manipulated into fear, don’t just assume that they are fine but offer to help them, because they will be too embarrassed and ashamed to ask for your help. On different occasions I was told to get out by people I did not know. I did not listen to them, and things only got worse. Remember this: if you are involved with this type of person, you will live unhappily, and it is not easy to get out of this haunting relationship and start a new life. Get out before it’s too late, and don’t go back!

Prologue

I was writing chapter 1 for my book when a show came on TV. They were interviewing an author who recently wrote a book. She talked about her abuse as a child and the mental and physical abuse from her husband who had recently committed suicide. I was shocked when listening to her story. I began to realize why I would divorce this man and then let him come back. I thought to myself, How did I take this mental and physical abuse and sustain a normal life? That is when I began thinking back in time. Writing about my childhood and past years made me aware of how I endured such pain. I feel that my experiences and challenges prepared me for being manipulated into fear.

I had come from a broken family and began working at the age of nine. My mom, Rose, grew up in Fellbach, Germany. At age sixteen she got pregnant by her German boyfriend and gave birth to my sister, Elsie, on March 14, 1958. He and my mom broke up, and that is when she met my father, Donald, who was stationed in Germany with the army. They married on March 3, 1961, and then my brother, Grant, was born. They moved to the United States and lived in a small town, Levasy, Mo. Then I was born June on 16, 1963. My father began to mentally and physically abuse my mom. He would not allow her to work. She told me that many a night he would start an argument, hit her and then make her go to bed with him as early as 7:00 p.m. so he could have sex. As I got older my mom told me that my dad had other women. Because of this and the abuse, she tried to commit suicide by slicing her wrists when I was three years old. Moving from Germany with no family to the United States made my mom feel trapped. While my dad was at work, our neighbor helped her get a driver’s license so she was able to apply for jobs. She was hired at an ammunition plant and started saving money to plan her getaway from my dad.

My sister was my dad’s stepdaughter, so he did not treat her right. She had to do a lot of the chores around the house, and if they were not done to my dad’s expectations he would hit her and call her names. She gained a lot of weight due to the abuse. My brother had a nervous problem from all the abuse, so he would pee and poop in his pants and pee in the bed. When this happened my father would beat him with a belt until he bled on his back, butt, and legs. Since I was Daddy’s little girl he never did anything abusive to me. I only vaguely remember these things since I was so young. My mom told me later that my dad got a lot better when he knew she was going to leave him, but it was too late—by then my mom did not love him anymore. In December 1971 they got a divorce. As I got older everything I did with my life was not good enough for my dad. Regardless of how he talked to me he would always be available if I needed him. I knew that he did not mean to be negative. That was just my dad’s way with everything and everybody. When I talk to my dad about why he and my mom got a divorce he says, Your mom ran around on me with other men, and I was never abusive. They blame each other for the divorce.

My mom moved with three kids after the divorce. We lived in an apartment with only one bedroom above a clothing store while my mom attended cosmetologist school. It was a very difficult time for us. The apartment was so small, and we did not have much money. The owner of the school, Marie, helped my mom a lot. She would loan my mom money and let us kids stay in the back of the beauty school after we got home from school. My mom did not have to pay for child care. After three months we moved again and my mom rented a house behind a restaurant that had a skating rink next to it. No matter how broke we were, my mom allowed me to roller-skate on the weekends. She began working for a lady, Candy, who owned a small beauty shop. After a year Candy wanted to sell the shop, so my mom bought it.

Financially things were pretty tight, so my mom made us kids work. I was nine years old when my mom would make me go to her wealthy clients’ houses to iron and clean. In the winter my brother and I would go from house to house and ask if we could shovel their sidewalks and driveways for a dollar. My mom knew the owner of a gas station and had me cleaning their bathrooms. As I got older, I worked as a bus girl, dishwasher, and waitress. I worked at the movie theater in the concession stand and ticket booth. I cleaned hotel rooms, worked at auctions, and babysat. In the summer I would even work in the bean and corn fields. I always had money and bought most of the things I needed. While going to school and working I attended church on a regular basis. Regardless of our lifestyle or how I was feeling, anyone who saw me seen a smile on my face. They would say, Marvela, you are always smiling and pleasant to everyone. People thought I was the happiest girl all the time, and to be honest I wanted them to perceive me as being happy.

My mom’s beauty salon was doing quite well. She purchased a house with three bedrooms in a quaint neighborhood in the same town as the shop. She began dating a man, Chaz, who had full custody of his three children. My mom and Chaz got married on December 20, 1972. They moved in with us, and our life became very hectic. The six kids had a hard time getting along. My mom and stepdad would discipline us by using a rug beater, a belt, or a green stick from outside. My mom was a little German lady, but if you got out of line she let you know it. My stepdad was always yelling and drunk most of the time. After they got married my mom discovered that my stepdad was an alcoholic. When he would drink he became belligerent and mean.

Sometimes he would come home late at night really drunk, get out his shotgun, and threaten to kill us. My mom would have to take us kids to the car so she could call the cops. We would be crying and screaming. One day he came home from work with a tarantula in a jar. He told us kids that if we did not behave he would put it in our bed at night. We were so frightened that it was hard to go to sleep. After two weeks my mom and I started a fire in a barrel that was in the backyard. She opened the lid to the jar and threw it into the burning flames. To this day I can hear the screeching and crying noises of that tarantula. Finally, my mom divorced Chaz on September 13, 1976.

About a year later, on November 5, 1977, my mom married Sam. He had no children, and the three of us were teenagers. Sam had no clue how to raise a teenager. He and my brother got into fistfights and did not get along. My sister was older and did her own thing, so he did not have a problem with her. Sam and I got along at first, but as time went on he did not know how to handle me when I was not doing what I was told to do.

After my mom divorced my dad, Donald, I had kept in contact with a girl I had grown up with until I was seven. Her name was Amber. Her family moved to California after we had moved. Now that I was fourteen I got permission from my mom to fly to California and stay with Amber and her family for a month. Amber was fifteen, a very mature fifteen. We had a blast. Her family took me to Disneyland, Sea World, and the beaches. She had an older sister, Laura, and an older brother, Frank, who enjoyed doing drugs and having sex. Amber would take me to parties, and that is when I was introduced to marijuana and cocaine. I never had sex with anyone out there, but after I came home my friend Amber called me and said she was pregnant by a guy we had hung out with at one of the parties.

Before I went to California my focus was on school and work, but when I got back from my trip I was completely different. I began going to parties, smoking marijuana, and drinking. One night I got really wasted and slept with my best friend’s brother. I was fifteen, and this was the first time I had experienced sex. My life really began to change when Amber’s sister called me and wanted to visit me in Missouri. My parents said it would be okay, so Laura came to Missouri. My sister introduced Laura and me to her friends, who were a lot older than us. We met two guys, Don and Kevin. Laura and I would go to Don’s house, and we would smoke marijuana, snort coke, and drink a lot of liquor. I was having sex with Don, who was twenty-five years old, and Laura was sleeping with Kevin.

Laura never had a curfew when she was at home in California, but I did. We would come in late, and I would get into trouble. My stepdad warned me that if I kept it up I would really be in a lot of trouble. We would go swimming and come home wet at three in the morning. After one month of this my stepdad had enough. Laura was still at Don and Kevin’s house, but I went home when it was really late. My stepdad lost all control and began beating me with his fists from my bedroom down the hall to the kitchen. My mom and sister were screaming at him to stop. They had to pull him off of me. I had bruises all over my body.

That night I got a kitchen knife and kept it under my bed. I was scared to death that my stepdad was going to kill me. The next day I snuck out of the house and went to Don’s. Don, Laura, and Kevin could not believe what had happened to me. They said that I should not have to live at home with this abuse. Don told me that he loved me and was going to take me away and I would not have to go through this again. He said that I was going to stay at his house until we could move to another state. My parents were furious that I had left the house. They contacted the police and told them that Don had me at his house and that I was under eighteen. The police came to Don’s house and told him that I was a juvenile and that if I did not go home they would put him in jail. I began crying and knew that I had to go home, but I did not want to.

Laura and I went back to my house, and my parents and I began to argue. They told Laura that she had to leave, so Kevin picked her up and took her to the airport. She had to fly back to California. After that Don, Kevin, and I stayed in contact with Laura. We were planning the getaway. My parents made me see a counselor with them, but when I showed the counselor my bruises I never had to go back. I began to pretend that I had changed and that I was not seeing Don anymore. I stopped partying and concentrated on school and work again. Meanwhile, Don had apologized to my mom and became her friend. One day he asked her if he could use her car to go to Kansas City for a job interview. For some odd reason my mom let him.

Don was not going to Kansas City. He was driving with Kevin to Arizona, and then I was going to take a bus to meet them. From there we were supposed to go to California and get Laura. Don and Kevin arrived in Arizona and called me. I had saved up some money and bought a bus ticket. My sister took me to the bus station. I was now running away due to fear. When I arrived in Oklahoma to switch buses I heard on the intercom, Elsie, please come to the ticket station. I kept hearing this over and over. They were paging my sister’s name. I asked myself, Why are they paging my sister? Finally I went to the ticket station, and they told me that Elsie was on the phone for Marvela Dawnay.

I got on the phone, and my sister said, Marvela, Kevin called the house and Grant answered the phone and pretended to be me. Kevin gave Grant all the information regarding your plans. He has told Mom and Sam everything. They know what you are doing, so you have to get on a bus and come back home.

I was crying so hard. I said, I’m afraid. I don’t want to come home.

She said, You will be in more trouble if you don’t come home. I told her okay and got a ticket to go back.

When I returned home my parents did not say anything to me. Kevin called, and I told him what had happened. We hung up. Two days later Kevin called and told me that during the night Don took off in the car and left him stranded.

He said, I don’t have any money to get back home.

I said, Elsie and I will wire you some money. I told Elsie, and we wired Kevin some money. He took a bus back to Missouri. A couple of days later my mom got a call from the police department in Las Vegas. They stated that her car was abandoned in a tow lot and it would cost $600.00 to get it out. My mom hired an investigator so she would not have to pay the fee. She never got her car back. To this day I have not been in contact with Don, Kevin, Amber, or Laura.

My stepdad and I still did not get along. I kept the knife under my bed, and every day I feared for my life. I had never been physically beaten before, and I was afraid he would do it to me again. My sister and I talked to one of our friends, Bob, about my situation. He was older than me, very tall and skinny with long curly blond hair. I did not have to worry about having a relationship with him, because people always said that Bob was gay. I did not know for sure, but we always remained on a friendship level. As the three of us talked we decided that I should run away again to get away from my stepdad. Bob had been working for a state school, so he had money and a car. He was tired of his job and living in a small town, so he was excited to move to a different state. Bob and I sat down and began planning my second runaway. He had already decided to quit his job and sell his car. We were in my bedroom with a map of the United States. I told him that if I went to a warm climate my parents would find me because they knew I liked hot weather. So we decided to go to Philadelphia, PA. My mom would never think I would go to the East Coast.

I was working as a waitress and going to school. For extra money I worked in the corn fields and bean fields. It was time for Bob and me to implement our plan. We told everyone that we were having a going-away party for Bob because he was moving to London to be with his brother, who was stationed there with the military. We had the party and then my sister and I drove Bob to a motel in a small town about twenty minutes from where we lived. He stayed there for one week waiting for me so that no one would think we were together. When it was time for me to meet Bob I packed my clothes and my sister drove me to the motel. We picked up Bob and went to the bus station and headed out for Philadelphia.

It took forever by bus from Missouri to Philadelphia. Bob and I had saved quite a bit of money, and of course he brought a big bag of marijuana. He liked using drugs and smoking pot. We chose an expensive hotel to stay at since we thought we had a lot of money. Every day for one week we walked the streets looking for a place to live. After a week in Philly I called my mom and told her I was in San Francisco. She contacted a juvenile officer, and they put an APB out to try to find me.

Bob and I ended up renting a furnished apartment from an Italian man in South Philly. Bob enrolled me in high school at Mifflin High. He told them he was my uncle. I got a job at a frozen yogurt deli in downtown Philly that was inside a big law firm building. I was enrolled on the work program, so I went to school from 9–12 Monday through Friday and then took the trolley to work from 12:30 to 5:00. Bob got a job at McDonalds. It was so funny, because all the employees were African American and he was the only Caucasian. Bob loved his job.

It had been three weeks, so I called my sister to see how everything was going. She told me that my mom had the authorities looking for me on the West Coast. She said, If you don’t tell Mom where you are she will have a nervous breakdown. I agreed to let my sister tell her. My mom and stepdad told the juvenile officers where I was, and they were going to fly to Philadelphia and make me come home. The juvenile officers told my parents that if they made me come home against my will I would run away again. The best thing for them to do is to let me come home on my own. So they let me stay in Philadelphia. At times I would call my mom just to keep in touch. She would try to talk me into coming home but I would not do it. I was still afraid of my stepdad.

While I was at work one day a man named Francisco came in to buy yogurt. He was a nice-looking Puerto Rican. He asked me to go to dinner. I was fifteen and he was twenty-seven. Age did not matter to me, so we went to dinner and began to date. He was so nice, but there was one problem—he was using cocaine. As we began spending time together I began to snort the cocaine with him. After about a month a heavy-set black woman came into my work. She started yelling at me, If you ever see my husband again I will kill you. My coworkers and I were in shock. I had no idea he was married. After she left, Francisco came down to my work. I told him what happened. He let me know that he was married but they were separated. I told him that I was scared to death of her, so we agreed not to see each other anymore.

After this I met a guy named Turi. He was from Iran and a student at the university. After work sometimes I would go hang out with Turi and his friends at the university. One night he came to my work and we went to see a movie. Afterward we got on the subway to go to my apartment. The subway made a lot of stops, and it was late in the evening. There were a lot of rough-looking people who stared at us. Turi had on a gold chain around his neck. We were halfway home when the subway stopped, the doors flung open, and two black guys took off running. Turi yelled, They have my gold necklace. He took off running after them.

I looked around and ran after him. While I was running a black man knocked me down onto the concrete and stole my purse. I was out for a minute, and when I stood up I saw that there was a man and a lady who saw what had happened. They came over to me and asked me if I was okay. Then some other people yelled, Hey, they left your purse and stuff over here. The reason they didn’t keep it was because I didn’t have any money.

Turi came running back to me and said, I caught one of the black guys, but the man pointed a gun at me and said, ‘I will kill you if you try to take the necklace back.’" Turi had let the man go. I was crying and very scared. We got back on the subway and made it to my apartment. After that night I never saw Turi again.

During my two adventures with men, Bob was working and using drugs. We began running out of money. Bob met a married couple who acted like hippies and both had really long hair past their butt. He began using acid with them. One night Bob said, Here, Marvela, take some of this acid; you’ll really like it. I seriously