I’m going to be dead in 8 months.

The thought ricocheted through my head like a bullet, except it didn’t leave.I was out for drinks with my friend Jacqueline. She’s a psychology grad student and happened to have her books with her. I shouldn’t have looked up the definition of a sociopath, but I did anyway. I was always convinced my ex, Christopher, fit the bill, but I wanted to be proved wrong.But the signs were all right there: Superficial charm and intelligent. Check.Unreliable. Most definitely.Lack of remorse or shame. I remember telling him he had three emotions: tired, blank, and angry.Incapacity for love. True.Failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors. He had quite the record.Lying and manipulative behavior. Absolutely.Calm after dangerous or scary situations. I was hospitalized and almost died and he was so calm; it was scarier seeing his lack of emotion.Living by the principle pleasure. Life was a rush for him. He craved adrenaline of any kind.Eight months. I’m still convinced that’s how long I have to live. It’s when my restraining order expires. It means he has eight months to plan his revenge on me. Because even though he was the one who abused me, in his mind, he will always be the victim. He’ll block out the fact that he  hit me, that he made me feel small and weak, that he kept me from seeing my friends and family, that he asserted power and dominance over me. He’ll remember that I broke up with him, that I moved out secretly while he was at work and took our pup with me, that I took him to court in pursuit of a restraining order, and nothing else.A few months into dating Christopher, he told me a story out of the blue. We were in his living room when he asked, “Want to know how I got that TV?” He didn’t wait for me to respond. “When my ex moved out without telling me, she left everything behind but my XBox and a beanbag. Luckily, I had a picture of her credit card, so I bought myself this TV online as revenge.”That was the first time I had truly been afraid of Christopher. Was this just a story or was it a warning of some kind? My heart dropped in my chest and I felt rigid and awkward finishing the movie sitting next to him.Christopher’s vindictive personality began to shine after that. He had no problem telling me about other ways he had gotten revenge on people. He beat up a kid who ratted him out for selling him drugs. He stole the license plates off of the car of a girl who was rude to me at work without my knowledge. He’s stolen money and other trivial things from countless people. He’s gotten kicked out of clubs after harassing his ex who worked there.But every time he finished telling me a new story of his conquest of revenge, he ended it by putting a devilish smirk on his face. That curl on the left side of his mouth makes me shiver and feel completely nauseous just at the thought of it. I couldn’t handle it anymore, but how could I ever leave him? I was afraid for my life and my well being.Of course when I told the judge about his vindictive personality, it didn’t count as evidence. It didn’t directly happen to me, is what the judge told me at my hearing for a restraining order. It didn’t matter that Christopher used those stories as a way to manipulate me, to make me feel submissive and afraid.

My restraining order was only granted for nine months.

I don’t feel safe. I park my car away from my house, so he’ll never know where I live. I’m constantly checking around me in public. I’m careful about what I post on social media in case one of his friends can see where I am or who I’m with. I stopped hiking alone in case I happen to see him on a trail.The restraining order gives Christopher eight months to research, to figure out my new address or where I hang out now. It gives me eight months of false confidence that since he hasn’t done anything yet, he most likely won’t do anything later.But in eight months, if I’m no longer here, I hope it gives the justice system something to wonder about. When I brought evidence to court that he’s been abusive and manipulative, they will wonder if they shouldn’t have thrown it out. That when I came to court with text messages showing how he threatened me with his gun, the judge would have understood how unsafe I felt.

Hopefully, enough will change in our justice system that other women who are raped, assaulted, or abused decide to come forward with their story, because they believe the justice system will help them. Because right now, as the system stands, it’s too much anxiety and too much stress just to get results that don’t make you feel any safer.

I’m literally waiting for Christopher to make a mistake, so I can get my restraining order extended. How can our justice system call that fair? How can that make other women want to come forward? It doesn’t.Instead, our justice system fuels the idea that women are to blame. “What were you wearing?” “How much did you drink?” “Why didn’t you report the assault right after it happened?” ‘Why didn’t you take pictures of the bruises?” Instead, the judge should have been asking Christopher “Why did you do it?”