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For the second time in two days, the Bellingham Police Dept. has been here because my paranoid neighbour/housemate, Donnie, keeps calling them on me.
Donnie's a heavy drinker, and he has some obvious mental issues - paranoia foremost among them. Donnie freaks out every time strangers come to the door (we have a shared front door).
Yesterday evening, another of my neighbours, Wayne, had listed his apartment for sublease on Craigslist. A young couple came to the door to inquire about the apartment. Donnie refused to open the door for them, looking through the peephole, and shouting at them through the door they would have to come back later (very rude). I walked out of my apartment into the common room, and told him to let me handle this, and I opened the door to talk to them, and explain to them that Wayne wasn't home, and they'd have to come back later. They left, and then I turned to Donnie (who had been hiding out of sight in the kitchen) and lost my temper.
I shouted at him, "Damn it Donnie, that was COMPLETELY uncalled for, shouting through the door at those people. I am getting sick and tired of your paranoia."
Mind you, I didn't threaten him, or get in his face. But I had lost my temper, and was shouting at him. The anger subsided pretty quickly after the initial shouting, but he started getting belligerent back, threatening to call the police on me.
"Go ahead," I shot back at him, sarcastically. "Please, be my guest."
"I'll do it! I'll call the police!" he replied.
"Please Donnie," I mocked him, even more sarcastic, "Please call the police." By this time, I was no longer shouting.
"I will!" he shot back.
"Do it!" I egged him on, sarcasm dripping from my every sylable. "Please, call the police Donnie!"
"I'm going to call the police on you for threatening me!" he replied.
I was fed up by this point, because it was completely untrue. I got down on my knees, put my hands together in a begging motion, and said, "Oh please Donnie, please, I beg you! I'm begging you! Call the police! Call the police!"
Which he proceeded to do. I stood in the hall (his door was open) and watched him do it, and lie to the 911 dispatcher that I was threatening him. After he hung up, we coninued to argue back and forth, him hurling "Faggot!" at me, me throwing "Christian!" back at him with just as much venom. Then he shut the door, and I waited in my room for the police to arrive.
Soon, the police arrived (it happened to be the same officer that had come to take me to the Emergency Room a few weeks ago), and he talked to us separately. The officer said that Donnie (who was obviously drinking) wasn't claiming that I was threatening him now, and asked that I just avoid Donnie for the time being.
Which I did. For almost exactly 24 hours, I didn't see Donnie. I avoided him completely.
Fast forward to this evening. I had listed a few items for giveaway on Whatcom Potlatch, and I was expecting someone to come by at 5:45 this evening to pick up a jewelry box and a cologne gift set (gifts from my ex-boyfriend, Rick). Donnie was in the kitchen commons cooking dinner at that time, so I stayed in my apartment and avoided him, as the police officer advised.
Then came the knock on the door. I walked out of my apartment to answer the door. Donnie was standing there, and surprisingly, Donnie had answered it, and was talking to a short woman who was there to pick up the items I was giving away. As soon as I walked out of my apartment -- I didn't say a word, didn't even acknowledge him, and right in front of this poor woman, he freaks out, cowers behind her, and starts shouting at me, "Stay away from me, or I'll call the police on you again!"
"FUCK YOU DONNIE, YOU FUCKING PARANOID FREAK!" I shouted at him, then regaining my composure, walked up to the woman and said, "Sorry you had to hear that, you arrived in the middle of an argument. Were you here to pick up something?"
"Y-yes," she stammered, clearly frightened, "The j-jewelry box and the cologne."
"Just one moment please," I said sweetly, and went to my room to get the items.
Donnie scampered into his apartment and proceeded to call the police, while I brought the items out to the woman, who left as quickly as she could. Who could blame her, with all this mental instability going on around her?
I walked back to my apartment, saying loudly enough so that I knew he could hear, "They're coming to get you Donnie! They're coming to get you! They're coming to get you! Hahahahahaha! They're coming to get you Donnie!" Then I shut my door and waited for the police to arrive.
The police arrived shortly thereafter, the same officer one who had been here twice before, this time with a partner. They talked to Donnie, and me, and again suggested I stay away from Donnie (no problem!) and try to control my temper around him, because it was obvious that Donnie's paranoia was being triggered by my shouting at him. No problem.
They also asked that I advise Propery Management of the situation, which I will do.
It's strange. Donnie seems to be getting worse. Until 48 hours ago, I never had any serious issues with him, we've gotten along fine. Then all of a sudden, WHAM, I am having the police called on me repeatedly. It's a bizarre situaton.
Donnie's a heavy drinker, and he has some obvious mental issues - paranoia foremost among them. Donnie freaks out every time strangers come to the door (we have a shared front door).
Yesterday evening, another of my neighbours, Wayne, had listed his apartment for sublease on Craigslist. A young couple came to the door to inquire about the apartment. Donnie refused to open the door for them, looking through the peephole, and shouting at them through the door they would have to come back later (very rude). I walked out of my apartment into the common room, and told him to let me handle this, and I opened the door to talk to them, and explain to them that Wayne wasn't home, and they'd have to come back later. They left, and then I turned to Donnie (who had been hiding out of sight in the kitchen) and lost my temper.
I shouted at him, "Damn it Donnie, that was COMPLETELY uncalled for, shouting through the door at those people. I am getting sick and tired of your paranoia."
Mind you, I didn't threaten him, or get in his face. But I had lost my temper, and was shouting at him. The anger subsided pretty quickly after the initial shouting, but he started getting belligerent back, threatening to call the police on me.
"Go ahead," I shot back at him, sarcastically. "Please, be my guest."
"I'll do it! I'll call the police!" he replied.
"Please Donnie," I mocked him, even more sarcastic, "Please call the police." By this time, I was no longer shouting.
"I will!" he shot back.
"Do it!" I egged him on, sarcasm dripping from my every sylable. "Please, call the police Donnie!"
"I'm going to call the police on you for threatening me!" he replied.
I was fed up by this point, because it was completely untrue. I got down on my knees, put my hands together in a begging motion, and said, "Oh please Donnie, please, I beg you! I'm begging you! Call the police! Call the police!"
Which he proceeded to do. I stood in the hall (his door was open) and watched him do it, and lie to the 911 dispatcher that I was threatening him. After he hung up, we coninued to argue back and forth, him hurling "Faggot!" at me, me throwing "Christian!" back at him with just as much venom. Then he shut the door, and I waited in my room for the police to arrive.
Soon, the police arrived (it happened to be the same officer that had come to take me to the Emergency Room a few weeks ago), and he talked to us separately. The officer said that Donnie (who was obviously drinking) wasn't claiming that I was threatening him now, and asked that I just avoid Donnie for the time being.
Which I did. For almost exactly 24 hours, I didn't see Donnie. I avoided him completely.
Fast forward to this evening. I had listed a few items for giveaway on Whatcom Potlatch, and I was expecting someone to come by at 5:45 this evening to pick up a jewelry box and a cologne gift set (gifts from my ex-boyfriend, Rick). Donnie was in the kitchen commons cooking dinner at that time, so I stayed in my apartment and avoided him, as the police officer advised.
Then came the knock on the door. I walked out of my apartment to answer the door. Donnie was standing there, and surprisingly, Donnie had answered it, and was talking to a short woman who was there to pick up the items I was giving away. As soon as I walked out of my apartment -- I didn't say a word, didn't even acknowledge him, and right in front of this poor woman, he freaks out, cowers behind her, and starts shouting at me, "Stay away from me, or I'll call the police on you again!"
"FUCK YOU DONNIE, YOU FUCKING PARANOID FREAK!" I shouted at him, then regaining my composure, walked up to the woman and said, "Sorry you had to hear that, you arrived in the middle of an argument. Were you here to pick up something?"
"Y-yes," she stammered, clearly frightened, "The j-jewelry box and the cologne."
"Just one moment please," I said sweetly, and went to my room to get the items.
Donnie scampered into his apartment and proceeded to call the police, while I brought the items out to the woman, who left as quickly as she could. Who could blame her, with all this mental instability going on around her?
I walked back to my apartment, saying loudly enough so that I knew he could hear, "They're coming to get you Donnie! They're coming to get you! They're coming to get you! Hahahahahaha! They're coming to get you Donnie!" Then I shut my door and waited for the police to arrive.
The police arrived shortly thereafter, the same officer one who had been here twice before, this time with a partner. They talked to Donnie, and me, and again suggested I stay away from Donnie (no problem!) and try to control my temper around him, because it was obvious that Donnie's paranoia was being triggered by my shouting at him. No problem.
They also asked that I advise Propery Management of the situation, which I will do.
It's strange. Donnie seems to be getting worse. Until 48 hours ago, I never had any serious issues with him, we've gotten along fine. Then all of a sudden, WHAM, I am having the police called on me repeatedly. It's a bizarre situaton.
