Late on April 27, women’s wrestler Christina Von Eerie dropped serious #SpeakingOut accusations against Chris Dickinson, alleging physical and mental abuse, and much more.

Dickinson, who recently announced that he has signed a deal with New Japan Pro Wrestling, responded.

In a lengthy Facebook post, then shared elsewhere, Von Eerie (real name Christina Maria Kardooni), explains that she had been encouraged by the #MeToo movement, outing abuse, but needed “the right amount of self-work, a healthy lifestyle, and some PMA” to be able to reveal the “trauma and abuse.”

“My relationship with Chris was filled with verbal, mental, and physical abuse,” she lays out, detailing the years she spent with Dickinson (real name Christopher Torre), in particular the years they lived together on Staten Island, NY.

The post describes some disturbing incidents, from physical altercations, yelling, and cancelled bookings over jealousy/fear, and a break-up done unexpectedly, when she was across the country in Los Angeles, unable to return and retrieve her possessions.

Early in the morning on April 28, Dickinson responded on Twitter, with a denial, but not naming his accuser: “I saw what was said about me by a former partner. I need to make it very clear. I have NEVER physically abused her or any other partner. These accusations are FALSE, they are hurtful, and they go against everything I believe in.”

Here is the full Facebook post from Von Eerie, unedited:

Christina Von Eerie

I’m going to start with posting this on facebook.
Chris Dickinson @borndirtydiedirty

#CallingOut Chris
This is something I’ve been holding from the public for years now, and especially since #metoo started.

I’d hoped that with the right amount of self-work, a healthy lifestyle, and some PMA, I’d be able to eventually overcome this trauma. The effects of this particular portion of my life continues to haunt me, and eat away my self worth to this day. You would think that over time one could “get over” trauma and abuse if the abuser has been completely removed from your life, and even then it can leave the victim with lingering Post Traumatic Stress that negatively effects their day to day life…some for rest of their lives.

My abusers name is Christopher Torre, better known as the American Professional Wrestler, Chris Dickinson from Staten Island, NY.

My relationship with Chris was filled with verbal, mental, and physical abuse. Leaving me with severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and crippling depression. By the end of our time together I hated myself completely. After learning more about narcissistic abuse I realized that one of the things I was going through was called “Imposter Syndrome”

noun: imposter syndrome

1. the persistent inability to believe that one’s success is deserved or has been legitimately achieved as a result of one’s own efforts or skills. “people suffering from impostor syndrome may be at increased risk of anxiety”

Definition from Oxford languages and Google.

As many may know, some of Chris Dickinson’s most recognized matches have been against women. So, you would imagine that he would have an immense respect for female talent in the professional wrestling community. This is not the case at all…

I dealt with Chris bashing women’s wrestling as a whole. Saying things like-

“Women’s wrestling is trash.”

“You’re all a bunch of whores.”

“Women’s wrestling shouldn’t exist.”

Personalizing things more by saying-

“You fucking suck.”

“I don’t understand how these promotions even want to book you.”

“I can’t believe you’re getting paid that much, it makes me sick. You don’t deserve that.”

“You’re a shit stain on the wrestling business.”

“You’re a carny gypsy.”

“You have nothing to be proud of.”

“You need to just quit and live a normal life.”

“I hate Christina Von Eerie, and I wish she didn’t exist.”

Chris would say that he didn’t know how it would feel to be with a girl in the wrestling business, that- “…it’s like dating a porn star. You think it’s really hot and you want it up until you have it. Then you realize you just can’t handle it.”

He blatantly told me that wrestling was his “special talent” and that he doesn’t “want to share the spotlight.”

Chris would continuously degrade and insult me and my work. He absolutely hated watching my matches and would rip me apart and make fun of me. This got so bad that I couldn’t even watch my own matches back by myself. I began to cringe at the sight of myself. Slowing beginning to believe all the awful, mean things he was saying to actually be true…

I’d think-

…maybe I’m not good at what I do. Maybe I’m a giant fraud with inflated sense of self worth, and I in fact DON’T deserve the recognition I’ve gotten over the years, or any opportunities from the past, or ones to come in the future. My existence in the professional wrestling world is a meaningless joke. I’m not special. I’m replaceable, and forgettable…I hate myself.

I felt like something that anyone would be ashamed to stand next to. Chris didn’t want to put our relationship status online because it was “embarrassing”. He didn’t want to be “another name on (my) your Wikipedia…”interesting how he could feel that way, yet still invite to live with him at his parents house in Staten Island, NY. Having coffee with his parents at the kitchen table everyday, and dinners with his family. I even helped helped his mother pick out the color scheme to paint for the kitchen.
She always treated me with love and respect. She truly was like a mother to me, and often times the only source of comfort, while enduring Chris’s constant degradation.
So, is that what you do with a “disgusting whore”? Bring her to your parents house to move in, and let her have personal relationships with your family?…I think not.

I still wonder how Christopher could grow up with such a loving, kind, and empathetic mother, just an all around beautiful human-and turn out to be so hatful, violent, selfish, and mean.

Things progressively got worse as time went by. I began to self-sabotage, and make decisions based off of how it would make Chris feel. He would tell me who I could work for and threaten to break up with me if I worked for places he didn’t like.

One specific incident was the weekend of Wrestlemaina 30, in 2014. I was regularly working for Dragon Gate USA and Evolve, ran by Gabe Sapolsky and Sal Hamaoui. Both of them have always been very supportive and made me feel like they truly believed in me. They’ve showcased me and gave me opportunities that took my career and status to higher levels. I’ve always had so much respect and appreciation for them as bosses, and friends. That being said, disappointing them or making them think I’d ever take the opportunities they’ve given to me for granted was something I’d be greatly ashamed of. Chris hated the fact that they were using me because working for them would only further my career…

I was invited to work for DGUSA that Mania weekend. I knew that weekend would be huge. There were so many of the top independent promotions running shows. Being there would have been incredible exposure, and chances to network with some of the most recognized and important people in the business.
Looking back I now, know that I was being weak minded and shouldn’t have ever let anyone dictate my life in this way, but Chris flipped out when I told him in was going to be booked. He told me that he “fucking hates that piece of shit Gabe Sapolsky”, and that if I took this booking that I’d come home to my bags packed and a ticket back to the West Coast.

One thing that he said in this little exchange stuck with me. Its like I can still hear him saying it crystal clear…

“It’s because of people like you, that people like me don’t get what they deserve.”

I feel so foolish. I turned down the booking, and gave some sorry BS excuse which eventually turned into me not working DGUSA or Evolve. This was the beginning of my self-sabotage. Slowly pulling myself from shows because I didn’t think I was good enough, or Chris had a problem with. He’d tell me that people actually don’t really like me…I believed him.

I find it quite funny that not long after this, he began kissing ass and suddenly started working for Gabe. The same person he trashed, and the same promotions that he told me I was allowed to work for.

All of this really messed with my head. I began getting extremely depressed and anxious. So I withdrew and isolated myself.

The verbal fights just kept escalating to the point that he was screaming at me, nose to nose. Veins popping out of a bright red face. He always tried to intimidate me.

Puffing up and getting in my face, cornering me.

Things started getting physical. He would push me, hold me down, block me from getting to the door, or even pulling me off the door and throwing me on the bed or the floor. He would throw and break things. He didn’t care what it was. A heartbreaking moment that’s stuck in my head was when he picked up a piece of art that a fan had made for me in Mexico. It was my very 1st gift from fan. A clay model “action figure-like” little sculpture of me. All my tattoos, in my gear, with the Mohawk, and throwing up the devil horns. Handmade. This person put a lot of love into making it, and went through the trouble of getting it to me. (Just remembering that it was given to someone that had to bring it to me. It was long anticipated). It was one of those fights that he had pushed me and thrown me on the bed. He picked up that piece of art and threw it against the wall…breaking it to pieces. Just completely shattered.

These fights continued…yelling, pushing, holding me down, and being tossed around. It was impossible to get him off of me if he was holding me down. He was so much bigger and stronger than me. I felt so helpless sometimes, and scared that things would get more violent…and they did.

November of 2014. I noticed that Chris had been texting his ex girlfriend. Her name popped up on his phone while he was holding it. I told him to show it to me and he refused. Of course, this is where the yelling starts. I attempted multiple times to grab the phone out of his hands. I finally managed to get it. That’s when Chris hit me. He slapped me so hard across the face that my ear started ringing, my mouth had been busted open and was bleeding so much that I was spitting blood. I had a black eye, my lips swollen and split, and the corner of my mouth was bruised. He was in fact talking to his ex, and there was definitely something he didn’t want me to see. He got his phone back and I never got see or know what it was that he was hiding. Must have been bad enough to where he felt the need to physically assault a 130 lbs 24yr old woman…there were even time where intimacy was very physically painful for me. Just enduring it, when he knew he was hurting me.

It would be a lie if I say I didn’t see it coming. I take responsibility for remaining in an unhealthy situation like that. I ignored the red flags. I should have left a long time ago at this point. Looking from the outside in, it was clear that I was in a very abusive and narcissistic relationship. He would do degrading and disrespectful things, like take pictures of me while I was sleeping & 1/2 naked, or bust the bathroom door opening when when I was on the toilet and take pictures of me…for some reason he found that to be hilarious. I felt absolutely terrible. I felt ashamed and embarrassed….he wouldnt even delete them. Later he would use these pictures to threaten me with. He said he would send them to the dirt sheets as revenge…

That’s when anyone I’m their right mind would GTFO! I’d tell my friend to leave if I saw them in this situation…I don’t understand why I stayed. There was so much psychological manipulation. He made me feel worthless. That no one else would want to be with me. That I was LUCKY that I was with him, but even he was ashamed to be with me.

Over the next month I noticed things that made me suspect he was cheating on me…(aside from the incident mentioned above) I honestly don’t know if he physically cheated on me, but there was definitely emotional infidelity. I caught him in multiple txt and social media DM’s talking to a girl named Mikayla. He denied up and down that there was nothing going on between them. Of course that was a lie because soon after we officially broke up Mikayla became his girlfriend! She’s a piece of trash too, because she knew that we were together. She and Chris had been having inappropriate conversations for someone that was supposed to be in a committed relationship. She knew that he was my boyfriend and that we lived together. I can’t imagine how long this was going on behind my back.
It was almost Christmas and I had plans for both of us to fly to California and visit my family. We bought our flights and as the day of departure crept up, Chris would start fights with me out of nowhere and threaten that he was going to cancel his ticket, and I’d be going my myself. Sure enough the told me he didn’t want to go, and he canceled his flight.

I flew to California with 2 bags of luggage. Enough stuff to last me a couple weeks. I brought my Ribera Steak House jacket with me to show my friends and my little Chihuahua, “GIRrr!”. Her sister “DoOom” had passed away October 30th. That was really hard on me, and made everything so much harder to handle emotionally.
Obviously I didn’t bring her ashes (or everything else) with me, because I thought I’d be returning to New York after this Christmas visit.

Well, Chris called to tell me that he didn’t want me to come back. To cancel my return flight and stay in California. He told me to stay away from his house, that if I wanted my belongings back that I had to get someone else to go pick them up for me…how could I ask anyone to do that? I barely had any friends there. That was everything I owned. Clothes, wrestling memorabilia, things from my childhood, family heirlooms, art that I’ve made and that people have made for me, 3 guitars, wrestling gear, video game systems, priceless, and irreplaceable things that no amount of money could make up for losing…

I don’t know why I didn’t just get on the plane, and go get my stuff. Looking back I see that I should have just done that, but I was scared. I didn’t have enough money to rent a car, a u-haul, get a hotel, ship boxes…I didn’t have any friends that could help me or go with me. I was so intimidated by the situation….what if he doesn’t let me in to get my stuff? Blah, blah, blah…All irrational and illogical thoughts in hindsight. I should have gone to the PD and asked someone to accompany me to the house to retrieve my belongings because I didn’t feel safe. I should have asked a friend to fly with my from California to help me with all of this…I realize now that there was so much more I could have, and should have done…but I was scared.

I had a lifetimes worth of belongings that I felt just got stolen from me. I thought- these are the things I would one day show my children to prove I actually did some cool stuff in my life. These were things that I would have to help ME remember my life….It was absolutely crushing.

He did all of this in such a cruel and cowardly way. He could have just broken up with me before I left and gave me the opportunity to bring my things home with me. Cut ties cleanly….but he wasn’t even man enough to look me in the eyes and handle things is a more respectable way. He had to do as much damage as he possible you could.
My depression was getting more severe. I woke up and fell asleep crying. I’d just lay in bed and cry. If I got out of bed, I’d sit on the couch and cry….I felt so defeated, and robbed. I felt like the biggest fool. Completely hopeless. Id wake up at night and scream into my pillow.

I hated living and I hated myself. I believed all the things he told me I was. I felt worthless. The sense of loss and sadness was overwhelming. It felt like the guy across the street stole everything you own, and he’s standing on his front lawn flipping you off cuz there’s nothing you can do to get anything back. You just have to sit and marinade in the fact that you know where all of it is, and you’re just SOL.

By this time my self worth was non existent. I couldnt stand to look at myself in the mirror. I lost so much weight. I couldnt eat. I was literally making myself sick.
Months passed and I felt the courage to tell him I was going to come get my things…he told me- “Too bad. Too late! All your shit is in the Staten Island dump!”.
I was so mad at myself for waiting so long! I could have done something about all this if I’d just acted sooner. Now I’ll never get my things back and it was all my fault! Even more reason to hate myself.

I didn’t want to live anymore. I felt like I had lost everything. That no one liked me or would care if I died. I would think about killing myself everyday. All day and all night. I went to bed wishing I just wouldn’t wake up. I was nothing and the world wouldn’t care, or let alone notice if I were gone. I wanted to die and started thinking about how I was going to kill myself. I was suicidal and I recognized that…going back and forth in my mind of if I would do it and how. I would always pump the breaks when I started to think about how much pain my parents would be in to lose their only daughter. The thought of hurting them like that was unbearable…then I’d think of how I’d feel if any of my closest friends or family harmed themselves or took their own life…it filled me with excruciating sadness and guilt. As much as I wanted to die, I didn’t want to hurt those that actually do care about me, and love me.

I knew at this point I needed to get help. I was too depressed and couldn’t function in every day life. It was effecting everyone around me.

I went to the doctor and told him everything. About my suicidal thoughts, and why I wanted to die, but also why I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder, anxiety, and post traumatic stress disorder. I was then prescribed antidepressants, that I ended up taking for 5 years.

Last year (2021) my little chihuahua “GIRrr!” passed away at 16yrs old…after nearly 6.5yrs without any communication whatsoever, Chris decides to send me a condolence message about GIRrr!’s passing.

I felt disgusted honestly. I was thinking, how dare you contact me for absolutely ANY reason. I asked him if he still had any of my belongings. My guitars AT LEAST. He said there really wasn’t anything left, and he would go to his mothers house and check….that sick feeling that I’d worked so hard to get rid of came rushing back. It felt like it was happening all over again. I told him whatever he had, I wanted back. Period.

There was “a few” things left…I had a friend go meet him to pick up what he was going to return. Out of everything I owned, my friend came back with a Jackson bass guitar, a bag of Super Nintendo games, and a photo album….thats it.

People ask why I didn’t come out and say this all sooner. It’s because i was scared of the backlash. He’s got so many people fooled thinking that he’s a good person. All the girls he works with think he has respect for them, but he doesn’t. Because he doesn’t have respect for women in general. Another reason was because I didn’t want to relive this trauma. Having to talk about it is painful, and gives me so much anxiety. I thought- what’s the point. He’s dead to me. I dont have to see him. I’ll just work on myself and move on with my life, but the reality is that this still effects me. I have to see his face on flyers. He interacts with my friends and peers that don’t know the whole story of what he did to me. He just flat out got away with it. Suffering zero consequences, and maintaining a false image of decently, and retaining the respect of people around him that would actually have no respect for him if they knew the truth.

It’s not fair that I have to deal with the residual effects of what he’s done to me, and he can just forget about it and move on with his life. I felt like it was finally time to tell my story. I can at least feel better knowing that I finally said something and stood up for myself. I have nothing to hide, because everything that I’ve said is the 100% honest truth.

Thank you to everyone that has taken the time to read this.


TOP PHOTO: Christina Von Eerie, left. Facebook photo; Chris Dickinson, right. Instagram photo.