A NON-HUMOROUS POST…back to normal programing shortly

I’ve been thinking about writing this post for a while now. I dont know where to start.I know I’m not ‘talented’ at this writing stuff, so I guess I’ll just jump in with both feet.

I met J’s father, Peter, when I was not quite 18. He was 23. I had been on an uneven keel for a few years. He was a messed up piece of work. I was a naive idiot and thought  he was ‘cool’.

I should have known something was up when he asked if I’d like to meet his younger brother. We had been seeing each other for months and I had seen no evidence of a younger sibling.

Peter goes to get him. He comes back and produces from behind his back an urn. An urn with the ashes of his brother inside. He comands  me to say hello. His brother had been dead for around ten years. I was a little freaked out.

We lived with his Mother for a while in a two story unit. If I coughed in the middle of the night, he would acuse me of signaling to another man, hiding outside. If I had to go downstairs to use the toilet, I was meeting a man downstairs.

No-one had ever shown jealousy over me before. I was flattered. I thought, in my stupid pea brain he must love me so much.

By this point, he was all there was. I had given up my old friends, stopped seeing my family. The first step is always isolation.

We had a fight one day and I left and went back to my Dads. Peter rang a few hours later yelling down the phone’ Are you happy now bitch! There’s blood everywhere! are you happy”.

I thought he’d tried to kill himself. I panicked and called an ambulance, then drove over. He answered the door. He’d carved my name into his chest.  His Mother abused the hell out of me, told me I was a stupid girl for calling for an ambulance. How was I to know? I had no idea how crazy he was. And still I stayed.

I stayed even after I woke one night with his hands around my neck, trying to choke me.

I stayed even after he overdosed on god knows what and destroyed the house. It took four cops and two paramedics to get him in the ambulance. They had to put him in a straight jacket.

After that his brother got him a job working away. Two weeks on, one week off. We got our own place near the beach. I went back to work. Things were good for awhile.

Then I found out I was pregnant with J. I was barely twenty,I think. We moved into a bigger house and I started ‘nesting’. J was born and things were still ok, till the night he had his friends over.

There were three of them. J was only a few months old, and I was in the bedroom with him. I remember alot of yelling.I came out of the room and there was blood everywhere. It looked as though someone had run around with their throat slit. Peter and ‘friend’ had gotten into a knife fight and Peters finger had nearly been severed. Blood everywhere.Pools of blood on my table,all over the carpet, in and out of different rooms. So much blood.

He was going crazy. His friends left. Just like that. Left me with this crazy man,with this mess. With a new-born baby I had to drag to hospital in the middle of the night. No offers to take their ‘buddy’ to hospital for me.

So I took Peter to hospital and left him there. I went home to my mums for a few days. His mother cleaned up his mess for him. Like she always did.

He couldn’t work after that and everything went downhill fast. He started binge drinking, and he was very violent, but I stayed. Even after a black eye and split lip. His mother would say to me,” What did you say to make him angry? You know he’s no good on the drink”

This advice coming from a woman who would put her young children to bed fully clothed, because her husband would come home drunk and try to kill them all. They would have to run for their lives.

She told me once of her oldest son telling her he wished his father would leave, because he was scared of him.She slapped him across the face and told him to never speak of his father like that again. His father was a good man.

It never mattered what I said or didn’t say. If I agreed with his ranting I was a smart arse. If I kept my mouth shut I was an ignorant bitch.

By the time J was a toddler Peter was vanishing for days at a time. He’d leave me with no money and no petrol in the car. It got to the point that I dreaded him coming home, because he’d go crazy and smash things, punch things.

He came home in the middle of the night once, paralytic, and wanted to take my car. At first I argued no, but I always gave in out of fear of J being woken up.

The next time I saw that car it was trashed. It was covered in beach sand from bonnet to boot. He’d lost the keys and gotten a flat tire, so he smashed the lock out of the boot to get to the spare. He’d also broken the ignition so he could start it. The stereo was also gone.

I left him for awhile after that, but I went back. I had no idea what a ‘good’ relationship was. He kept me totally isolated. I had no friends. I hardly ever saw my family.

He went away to work again. Same as before, which was bliss for J and I.  J had started grade one. The poor child  had a severe stutter. I know it was stress related.I felt it in my gut. [After a few years with JMM it vanished completely]

While Peter was away I was offered a job at my Uncles bakery. Just a couple nights a week, for a few hours at first. I said yes.I was so excited.

When Peter rang and I told him the news he told me I was a lying bitch. I wasn’t working. I was out ‘slutting around’.

By this stage I had taken to locking myself in the bathroom and crying. I truly thought I was going crazy.I threw myself into that job. It became my lifeline.

I ended up fulltime and my world started to open up. I made friends with the girls I worked with. I also worked with my mum and other family,so I felt a little more supported.

I was able to get a mobile phone. He went nuts, because he had no control over my conversations. He’d go crazy when I’d get a text.

I was able to get a half decent car, in my name. I didn’t have to ask him for money anymore.

Then he tried to gas himself in the carport. I believe I would have let him, but I didn’t want J to see that. My neighbour helped me that night. He hated Peter with a passion.

When I told his mother what he had done she said” He wasn’t trying to kill himself, he was just trying to get high”.

We had been together for about nine years by this stage. For the first time I really started to wonder what the hell I was doing. I was creating a cycle all over again. He had already become his abusive father. Now I was becoming his pathetic enabling mother. I was already on antidepressants and underweight from stress. I was a total basketcase.

He started taking money out of my purse. J and I came home one day to find that he’d ransacked the house. Every piece of furniture had been moved back from the walls. He’d been through every cupboard and draw and he’d stabbed a knife into the door frame.

A couple of people told me they thought he was on drugs. When he was in the shower I went through his car.It was full of syringes. I confronted him, I was crying hysterically. He laughed at me and left the house.

I hyperventilated for two days. Every time I thought about it I literally couldn’t breathe.

J was nearly ten years old by now. Ten years of crap. Ten years of watching me pace the hallway. Ten years of listening to me  crying from behind the bathroom door.

How many nights had he lay awake in his bed and listened to the craziness of his ‘father’. I didn’t want him to look up to a man like Peter. I didn’t want that piece of crap to be his ‘role model’.

 As goofy as it sounds,I happened to be watching DR Phil one day,back when he was just a guest on Oprah. Before he turned into a money hungry ratings freak.

He had a woman on that had an abusive husband,and he told her she had to accept some responsibility also, because by staying, she allowed him to treat her that way. He told her that even though she felt weak, she was the one with the power. SHE could choose to LEAVE. He was the weak one.

He was right. All those years I had cried to myself poor me why is this happening to me its not fair. Something snapped inside of me.

The next day I borrowed money from an Auntie and started looking for my own place. I told Peter I was leaving him. He fell to pieces. His Mother told me she ‘couldn’t believe I was doing this to him’

Fuck you both, I said.

Moving into our new house with no Peter was awesome.

I had been there for a couple of months when he asked if he could come and get our joint bankbook, and J’s bankbook, because he was broke and he wanted to give the money to his Girlfriend, who was in jail.Apparently she needed it for phone calls. I said fine,whatever. There was hardly any money in them anyway.

So he comes over and he’s standing in my kitchen and he starts calling me ‘Girly’ and I tell him dont fucking call me that, use my name…and he says ‘Oh come on be nice’,and then he says..” you wouldn’t believe what I’ve been doing for money’

And I say…”have you been taking it up the arse’ ,And he again tells me to “be nice girly”

And all of a sudden I realise he’s standing in MY HOUSE. In MY KITCHEN.

Not his. MINE..and I say,’You know what Peter, I dont want to listen to your shit anymore. Fuck off’.

And he did. And it was the BEST FEELING EVER.

A few weeks after that he tried to hang himself. His brother rang to tell me and I thought he meant he was dead. I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice when he said he was in hospital. I think his family expected me to go see him. The whole family are fucktards.

Not long after that a tall sexy dude rocked up at my work looking for a job  🙂

And  I’m still with him.

And he’s an awesome role model for the kids.

Did I mention he’s tall….

And sexy  🙂

Never think you have to stay. Never think you dont have the strength to leave,because you do. As a parent, we owe our children a happy and safe life, just my opinion.


~ by shelly1971 on April 18, 2009.

18 Responses to “A NON-HUMOROUS POST…back to normal programing shortly”

  1. […] PARENT’S RIGHTS NOW! placed an interesting blog post on A NON-HUMOROUS POSTâ […]

  2. great, and horrible post at same time Michelle. So so happy you made it through my friend. X

  3. Thankyou. I’m glad I not only made it through, but LEARNT from it. It’s all to easy to repeat the past. 🙂

  4. Not enough words or actions can take away the things you have gone through, but I am glad you have been able to find someone that is able to treat you as a princess now.

  5. Thankyou Lisa B. Unfortunatly many more have been,and are, going through much worse.

  6. That I know, I have a friend going through this atm. At this point in time I can only support her, help her when she is ready.

    Again thank you for sharing your story

    • Thanks. I hope your friend finds the strength she needs to leave. She is lucky to have you to turn to. It makes a world of difference to know your not alone 🙂

  7. Wow ,dont know what to say ,I remember you so well from school a wacky happy go lucky girl and crazy lol ,I would never have thought it would have been you that would have ended up with such a hard unfair time in your life.You know what you have always had a strong side and Im not at all supprised you told him to fuck off in the end .Im so sorry you had to go through all that but wow look where you are now .I guess sometimes we have to go through the shit to get to a better place
    pen xoxoxo

    • Life is a learning curve, hey Pen? I’ts a shame I stayed so long.Through fear of being on my own,I wasted 12 years of my life. Should have left WAY sooner.

  8. good inspiring story. i know from experience getting your child out of that situation is awesome and now he has a good role model and you have someone who respects you. keep up the great work MOM.

  9. Good. Good for you. Too many take that shit on and stay.

    • I know. I feel most sorry for all the kids out there, going through this. We adults can make choices,they cant. No child deserves to grow up in that kind of crap.I see such a HUGE difference in my kids,because they have been brought up in different environments.It makes me so sad for J.

      • I know what you mean. That was exactly why I left my eldest’s father. I just couldn’t justify bringing her up in that even though by that stage I was convinced that I had what I deserved.
        I hoped and prayed that it was the schizoprenia that made him like that and that now he was married and had more kids and was off drugs and stable that things would be different. but they weren’t. And this time, instead of just getting to hear or see it, she was abused herself (physically, verbally and emotionallY)and it took her a long time to let on what was happening so we could organise to get her out of there.

        Some men don’t deserve to be fathers

  10. Jesus. Thank heavens for guys like the beloved and JMM. God, poor J. what a heartbreaking situation. i really hope for his sake he doesn’t remember any of it. 😦 offspring#1’s dad is frighteningly similar the difference being i punched back. i left with her when she was 3 weeks old.

    • J remembers. He was 9 years old when I finally left. Now I look back and I dont even know the girl that could have lived with an idiot like Peter!.God love our men, we sure are lucky. JMM puts up with so much craziness from me! I’m not the most “stable” person..lol 🙂

  11. You say you can’t write? Bullshit, that was an amazing piece of writing. That should be recommended reading for the many, many women who are still in that god awful situation.

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