I know I promised everyone to be candid. So I will be. David smartly reminded me that I could type this in word and then just copy and paste. *Warning* this is going to be a very long post.
The Man of God; The Man of Peace; The Beast; Jack Goodnuff and/or Matthew W. Huff (5 in one). While I was married to Matthew, things got weird. I didn’t understand all of until Matthew went to his favorite Uncle’s funeral in August of 2018. While there, he would call me on the phone and be like “I love you. I miss you so much.” He would then get off the phone and apparently talk about killing me. He said so many scary statements in front of his brother: Christopher Huff and his wife Alisa Huff. Alisa Huff is still the lead clinician for Tulare County – i.e. She is in charge of that county’s mental health programs and services. Both of them were terrified for me and called me numerous times to warn me about his returning. It rocked me to my core enough that I took “bug out” bags and the crate of important documents (like the deed to the house and all my legal documentation) to my next door neighbors Steve and Joyce Isherwood.
Throughout the years I lived in Eureka, I found a second father figure in Ish. I wasn’t allowed to call my own father or any of my family members without my ex-husband being present in the room and me playing the call on speaker phone. It was easier for my physical and emotional health to just break of contact. Ish is a Navy career man then worked as the head Sheriff in the local county jail. He and Joyce as often expressed that they love me like a daughter. They helped save my life many times.
James Huff, Matthew’s biological son and my stepson, had moved out when he was 19. So he was not home in August of 2018.
When Matthew came home from his Uncles’ funeral, he was not angry at me. He was angry at his parents. He also brought home this weird knife. Many of you know I am very sensitive to things. Merry was too. She could pick up an object and know if it was used for good or evil. My Father Michael could also do this handshakes to people – or even just touching a person – hence why my Dad rarely touched things. This knife felt very evil to me. Evil in nature. Evil in what it did. Matthew would not tell me what it was used for until a week later. He said it was a bone from an animal used to by a cannibalistic tribe to sacrifice a human being and then carve the human bones in various weapons to be used in war. In other words, EVIL! He was obsessed with it. Simply obsessed. I tried to throw it out a few times, but he knew when I took it out of the house. (Really furking weird)
During the next two months: Aug through Nov of 2018, I noticed that Matthew could not longer control his different personalities. They were literally popping up and out light a light switch flip. Matthew also turned his anger towards me.
——Let me discuss the “5”———
Matthew W. Huff was Christian. He was ambidextrous. Very intelligent. Highly compassionate. Loved both his parents. Loved his family. Struggled with alcohol. Was bi-polar. Had hope. … But generally treated me like crap because he was very narcissistic in nature. Matthew was unaware of any other personalities.
The Man of God claimed to be a Christian. But think of an Southern Baptist Bible-thumping hell and damnation preacher from the 1960s – that was the Man of God. He knew I was his wife. He knew about his son. He couldn’t recall his parents. But he would get very “Old Testament” on me. Often times, would drag me around the house by my hair screaming at me that “Women should know their place.” And that it was my job to “submit to him.” If The Man of God felt like I was not submitting to him – I was punished. I was slapped. Spit on. Forced to sit in a corner as he threw things at the wall near me while copying Old Testament scriptures or writing whatever he wanted me to write as a punishment. The Man of God was right handed and, honestly, an idiot intellectually. I would try to remind him that we live in the New Testament not the Old, but that just got him more angry. This personality would stay for only 3 to 7 days. Matthew would just wake up one morning and be like “I am your husband. I love you. I would never treat my wife that way.” Hence why I secretly drug tested him two times checking for meth, cocaine, etc. He was always clean from an illegal narcotic. The Man of God was not aware of any other personalities.
The Man of Peace was anything but peaceful. He was right handed. Smarter. But his idea of peace was that he would beat me until he felt peaceful. I feared this personality that most. The man of peace typically only hung around until Matthew fell asleep. The Man of Peace seemed to be aware of Matthew. But not visa versa. This is the personality that pissed on me. Choked me. Sat on my chest with both his knees until I couldn’t breathe. This is the one that I had to beg for forgiveness for anything it wanted. Furk. I would admit to anything just to be able to breathe. When I say that Matthew never broke me, he didn’t. This evil thing (the man of peace) broke me many times over and over again. It enjoyed my terror It enjoyed my screams. When that dagger came into the house … this personality started appearing A LOT more. This personality was narcissistic in nature.
The Beast. He was aware of all the different personalities. It was left handed. It rarely spoke. It could throw a cop over a fence. It felt no pain. It couldn’t feel the “earth beneath its feet.” It was triggered when someone punched him from behind. It came out for only a few hours at a time. It has no sympathy. No remorse. Can we say “psychotic level rage machine?”
Then came Jack. Jack told me that he and the Beast murdered Matthew. (Something the double Ph.D. at the facility Matthew was sent to in Santa Rosa said was perfectly plausible. One personality becomes to dominant.) Jack was a right handed bi-sexual. Like he was perfectly okay having sex with men. Or really having sex with other women. Jack had 9 affairs on me during our marriage. Matthew had 4. Jack is 10000% a narcissist.
——————————–
Nov of 2018 (Jack had not taken over yet). Matthew has an episode. He gets wildly crazy. Breaks a bunch of stuff in the house. Wakes up and cannot remember who I am. In fact he drags me out of the house in my underwear saying, “Bitch we are NOT married.” I come back in. Jack (I now know it was Jack) was rocking back and forth in a rocking chair. I asked Matthew his name. He couldn’t tell me his name. I asked him what year it was, it couldn’t tell me what year it was. I ask him the name of the President or the names of Supreme Court (all questions Matthew knew). He couldn’t answer any of them. He was not drunk. I called 911 six times before they came out. The police were like “he is intoxicated.” I said but even drunk people know their names or an approximate YEAR! They left. I started screaming at Mental Health for a visit. They said no one is un-diagnosed at 49-years-old. Alisa Huff ends up coming up to visit with her brother (Matthew’s brother). Alisa spends ten minutes with Jack and calls up the local county mental health and says he needs to get in there … NOW! Matthew gets an appointment to visit mental health. He goes in the week before Thanksgiving. They do NOT give him medication.
Dec of 2018. I meet Jack. Jack hates me. He doesn’t love me. That freaking bone knife is the center of so much evil. It starts hiding from me in my dreams. I could track it in my sleep. I sense a “Strong Man” in and around my property. I call Matthew’s parents. Somehow … they both have seen this “Strong Man” influence Matthew in the past. I start begging for help. Jack is attacking me almost every other day. The police keep telling me just wait for the mental health med appointment. Even they recognize that person is not Matthew. In December, Jack and I get into a fight over the bone knife. I am throwing it out. He ends up beating the shit outta my chest of and stomach. And throwing a bookcase down on top of me. But in the middle of that … the bone knife ended up under the bookcase. And the solid wooden bookcase snaps it in two. I take the broken bone knife and limp out to the trash can. I put it in the trash can and wave to the garage people as they drive off about 20 seconds later. Jack goes ballistic. He cannot believe that he broke the knife the same time he tried to break me. That week, Jack gets his meds and tries to kill me.
Jack is screaming at me one night. I had headphones on with music to ignore him. He rips the headphones off and tells me to listen to him. He then starts acting like a monkey in front of me all the times saying “You are a worthless whore. You are just a cunt! No one could ever love you because you are such an idiot. You’re a stupid white whore.” He is very drunk. At that point, I couldn’t take it anymore so I started mimicking his behavior and say “How would you like it if you spouse was acting this way towards you?” … pause … and then I said the words, “You are the one acting like a selfish idiotic child!” And Jack’s eyes changed. I saw something in them. I knew he was coming at me to hurt him. I got up and ran for the door, but he caught me and threw me backwards. He then tried to put me in a jui-jistu hold that would break my arm at the shoulder, but I rolled out of it and almost got away. He got a hold of me again. I couldn’t get away. He was sitting on top of me. I was starring into his eyes. He was starring into mine. And I remember
As things were getting dark in my vision, I clearly remember asking the Lord just to let me die. That heaven had to be so much better than this hell. I just want to be dead.
And then, I saw him, for a brief second … Matthew came back. He looked down horrified, jumped off me and I ran to Ish’s house.
This is when Matthew was arrested. I fled to Bakersfield. Matthew went to the insane aslym in Santa Rosa where they stripped his medications. They inject him with medication. He is sober. Matthew calls me in Bakersfield and says he cannot remember anything from the first week of November until now. I think: We have a change. He’ll love me. There is hope! He just needed mental health meds! I come back from Visalia. Matthew is drinking. A lot. But says it is okay with his meds. Everything starts up again around October (my birthday) of that year again. I am trying to get Matthew on SSI. (Cause umm yeah, he is insane!) But his hatred starts focusing on me and Jack returns. It started when Matthew wanted to change his name. By the end of Oct 2020, Matthew had completely disappeared.
That December Jack has an affair on me that he admits to with a woman who used to visit my house as a friend. What is to terrible is she used to talk to me about how many married men she slept with and I had asked Matthew NOT to go to her place alone. But, hilariously enough, Jack wants to have sex with me. Or get blowjobs. I tell him to “fuck off.” He looks stunned. I told him that “you need to get a full STD test on every orifice you have and then show me that everything is clear.” Jack gets very mad. He refuses to get an STD test. He moves into another bedroom. He has no job. I have two. He uses multiple color permanent marker to draw all over my bedroom that “My mouth is disgusting. That I am a bad wife. That out of my mouth spews only evil. That I cannot control my mouth.” Ect. He then brands onto the wall that I am a whore who needs to be killed. Jack is deemed a candidate for the mental health deferment program.
He tells me I cannot have a door. He starts banging on the walls at all times of the night. He jumps dead flowers on me the early morning (2AM) of my birthday. Ish helps me get a door, Jack stabs knifes through it. I put a piece of wood up to block my door. Jack shows me how easy it is to be removed. Each time I call the cops on Jack. He is taken to mental health first. There he talks about how abusive I am or that he forgot his meds the past few days … and… booop … he is home in 2 hours.
Around now is when every cop, neighbor, Ish and Sheriff starts telling me: Matthew is GOING to kill you. I make excuses. I keep hoping for the best.
I start reconnecting with my Father. I remember calling him on the old cell number I had, and he picked up on the second ring. I am crying. His first words: It has been six years since your last contact. Are you safe? (Matthew or one of his sub personalities made me call my Father and disown him.) I try to explain that my Dad is still my hero. But my Dad stops me. He said “It is okay. Because he knew I was being coerced the last time I called.
I start calling family. They start saying things like “Will Matthew be able to take this phone. Run. Get out.” But I cannot go. We are not divorced. Are finances are still tied. The debt level is crazy.
I am moved into the shed by Jack because I am too unsafe to be trusted. But for the first time, he cannot get to me. The cops tell him that if my window in the shed is broken, he will go to jail. Jack cannot force the door open because it is real wood from the 1960s and like 4 inches thick. It is also set back. I poop and pee in a bucket. I build a catio extension so the cats can join me outside. I have all the cats sleeping with me. Jack gets more mad. He then starts telling me I have to have his permission to shower.
—– The limit is reached —–
I am still working freight crew. I am on my time of the month. On the third day, I simply cannot take it anymore. I walk into the house for a shower. Remember: I am on the deed and title for this home! Jack tells me I have to leave. I say “No. I am taking a shower.” His response: I did not give you permission. My response: I am on the lease. I do not need your permission to shower. I get into the shower and lock the door. Jack turns off the hot water. I continue to shower in freezing water and only 50 degrees out. Jack shuts off the water. I walk outside and turn the water back on and return to showering. Jack screams, “You dumb BITCH! I said no.” He then puts his fist through the window and starts to grab at me. “I am going to kill you, you stupid whore.” I punch his hand and start trying to punch his face. He back off. I run outside and use my phone to call 911. It takes almost 30 minutes for Jack to be carted off by police.
As I walk out, I notice that Jack has dripped blood everywhere. There is blood on all the down the side of my house. He had a ladder out and was duck taping a sign that says (pardon the crude words. His words … not mine.)
“My wife is a whore. If you have a big nigger dick, come fuck her because she deserves to be raped.”
There is blood and broken glass all over the house. I tear the sign down. And crying with pain and disgust, I start cleaning the blood off the windows and outside of the house. I notice a large group of cops and neighborhood watch members are in a group talking an looking at me. But I have a mess to clean up. Jack will be pissed if I do not have the mess cleaned up before he returns home. I go inside and start cleaning up the glass. I take the broken glass pieces still in the door together and start scrubbing the door of the floor when Ish, Sarah, Kyle, Spoon and a few cops walk into the house.
Sarah spoke first, “Annabelle, we need to get you out of here now. He’s going to kill you.” I shrug it off and say, “No. He won’t.” Ish reaffirms her belief. The cops beg me to leave. Off the record one tells me, “I cannot bear to think that everytime I come here, I am going to find you dead.”
—— The breakthrough moment——
Then Spoon walks over to me and stand me up. Spoon is his nickname. He lives caddy corner of me and was a professional clown for 35 years. He tells me to look him in the eyes. I do. Spoon said, “Every time Matthew hurts you, I call 911.” I mumble a thanks and I didn’t know he knew. Spoon replied, “We all know he beats you.” I suddenly get very embarrassed. Spoon continued, “But I am not calling to report the incident because I know Dave and Ish call the cops during an incident.” I look back up at him. “I am calling 911 to ask if the Coroner is being sent out.”
I instantly burst into tears. “And they won’t tell me. So I peek out the curtains and watch and look for a coroner or to see you. Each time you appear, I am not a religious man, but I thank God. Then my wife and I just go cry together on the couch.” I fall to the floor sobbing. “You are a beautiful woman. You are so kind. You helped revolution our neighborhood. You smile and laugh. But I know the evil that awaits you in this house.”
I say I cannot leave and go back to cleaning up the blood. Sarah picks me up and said, “We are not asking you. We are telling you that we are moving you out. Matthew can clean up his own mess.” They then ask me where all my stuff is. I mention it is all in crates in the shed. Jack forced me to move it all out of his house months ago.
It takes less than five minutes for the group to move me out of the house and next door into Ish’s home. I have to leave all the cats, including my cat, Tigger.
—– On the run —–
The first couple of nights with Ish and Joyce, they just kept me drunk and started feeding me. This is when I was calling family members begging or place to stay. My Aunt Patty said I could stay with her two weeks, but I knew I wouldn’t even function for a month. My brother had just given up his spare room. I really wanted Tigger so my Dad’s was a no go. (Severe allergy to cats). This is when I decided I must get divorced and refinance the house to get rid of the common debt. I couldn’t go anywhere with 40k in debt.
About two months at the Ish’s, I would estimate this was umm … January of 2021, Joyce came to me. She said her husband was carrying three loaded guns on him at all times. That even if he was justified in shooting Matthew, he would still go into the jail where he put away a lot of people. I realized how much stress she was under. So I agreed to leave.
Problem was: I had no where to go. I ended up homeless a few nights. Then somebody would take me in for a few days. Jack would find me. Make a huge terrible scene. People would ask to me to leave. Mind you, it was COVID! The shelter were not taking anyone new. I had no job. No health insurance just my unemployment. I am starving! I am jumping from couch to couch. Then came Elise. A Mormon who had fled a violent ex and ended up homeless. The gave me a place to live for a few months. I got Tigger. I found a job through an employment agency working a night security for Arcata House Partnership. Elise introduced me to Dr. Romani online. Watching her show was the first time I realized what a narcissist was and how many times I had experienced one.
On July 2021, I accepted the Housing Stabilization Specialist job at Arcata House Partnership. I had a free apartment. I had the money to finally file the divorce. Of course Jack made me do everything. But I was finally safe. (I don’t even have the time to go over how unsafe outside my door was. I was in a drug alleyway. 5 of my 12 tenants were active illegal drug users. One of my tenant’s brother was in charge of the jail (inmate side) and was a Hunsucker. Just look up “Alissa Hunsucker Lost coast outpost fentanyl” and you will see one small picture of what I went through at AHP Ke-mey-ek’.
I filed the divorce in Nov of 2021. Jack agreed to it. It gave him all the property and everything on it. For some odd reason, when he realized he was getting everything, he got really nice towards me. Jack kept trying to win me back. But thanks to friends, and understanding narcissistic “hoovering” I wisely said no thank you.
Please excuse the typos and bad grammar. In an effort to get this all down, I typed fast and did not look back.