And then the in between (the fuckedupness)

What I have written so far is the big stuff, and there are still  a few more of those stories to go.  But there is a whole lot of crap in between these times as well.  

A few people of asked me about the acronyms I use:

DS  -    dear son
DD -    dear daughter
FIL -    father in law
LL -     one of my awesome friends
PSO - Police Safety Order

The Rubbish

There was this one time ...  (at band camp - sorry couldn't help myself!) ...  I was in the kitchen cooking dinner and he comes in and dumps a whole heap of garbage on the floor.  I ask him what is he doing?  He tells me I put rubbish in the recycling and gives me a lecture about doing so. Then he walks out ... I glance at the pile and it's not our rubbish or recycling.  I gather it up into a bag and go to put it outside by the kitchen door and then he is back.  I turn to come inside again and he grabs me by my shoulders and pushes me to turn me around.  He is yelling at me to look at the bag and that it is rubbish not recycling. I am trying to explain to him that it doesn't belong to us, somebody else must have put it in our bin.  I twist away from him and dart under his arm to get back inside, I have to push past him to get in.  For me now this is normal, and as I no longer let him push me to a point of insanity I just get back to cooking dinner.

About 10 minutes later the Police knock at the door, he has called them and told them that I have assaulted him. I explain what happened and long story short he was issued with a Police Safety Order for 24 hours.  Which meant he had to leave and not come back until the next day.

The Laptop

I was sitting in the lounge room working on an assignment and he walked past and told me he was going out.  I acknowledge this with an "ok".  He comes back from the door and pushes the lid of my laptop down and demands that I pay attention to him.  Apparently I am not showing him enough interest or love.  That studying is more important to me than him.  I ask him to take his hands away.  Of course he wont.  So  I just sit there, I don't say a word, I wait it out.  He eventually gives up and walks out. 

 I get back to my assignment and then I hear footsteps on the back deck.  I turn around and who should I see but Hot Policeman and co.  I am really shocked to see them.  I let them in and again he has called the police telling them I was in a rage and he didn't know what to do and was worried for the safety of the children and himself.  They can see that I am calm and not sure why they are there.  Again he is issued a PSO and has to leave the property for 24 hours.

The door

I wake up to all the lights are on and I can hear him thumping around in the kitchen.  It is quite late about 11ish.  The kids are in bed asleep so I get up to close the hallway door so that he doesn't wake them up.  I quietly creep up the hallway and start to close the door.  Next things he has flung the door open and my hand is stuck on the handle push up against the wall as is my arm.  He has his all his weight on the door keeping it open with half of me jammed between the two as well.  He starts screaming in my ear ... can't quite recall the words but there was a lot of F words and bitch this and that.  He is so close to my ear that it hurts and my ears start ringing.  He lets go at some point.   I call FIL instead of the Police and he tells me not to call them.  

I get up the next morning and my upper arm and hand are bruised.  Later that evening I go to show him what he has done.  And he refuses to look at me ... he has denied that this ever happened quite a few times.  But LL has seen the bruises, I know I didn't imagine it.

The morning at work

I get to work early, and he calls.  It is about 7am.  He has the kids in the car with him and they are outside my office.  He tells me I have don't come down to the street he is going to come up.  I go down.  Again it is all about him, he goes to put his hands on my shoulders and I step back.  I tell him not to touch me.  He grabs my shoulders and shoves me up against the wall in full view of the kids in the car.  There is a delivery van there and the guys comes over and tells him to let me go, that he heard me tell him not to touch me.  He lets go and I run across the road to the Police Station.  He drives off with the children.  The one thing I am thankful for is that it was so early that nobody that work with saw what happened.  But the kids did.



Between October 2010 and April 2012 I think there were 15 or 16  police call outs.  Each resulting in a report to CFYS - Child, Youth and Family Services.  Numerous PSO's for him and a whole lot of fuckedupness for me and the kids.