As I explained to those friends, I was just having a small moment of self doubt about whether I am doing the right thing putting this all out there. As well as life happens too, busy and tired.
So this post will be about the moment we stopped living together. The fuckedupness will continue for many years to come, but at least now the children and myself don't have to live with it 24/7.
April 2012
When I think back it feels like these were an EPIC couple of weeks. It started with a letter sent to me from CYFS. They had been to the house and he had refused to talk to them. So the letter was asking that I contact them, which I did immediately. I made a time to go and see them with in a couple of days.
CYFS, is the child protection agency here in New Zealand. Given all the times the police were called they were now wanting to get involved.
I went and meet with the case manager on my lunch break. She wanted to meet with DD, so I agreed and we made a time. When I got home I told him about the appointment and that it was for DD to talk with them. The plan was that he would drop DD off with me to take to their office, then he would come back and pick us up.
And like most of the arrangements I make with him, it didn't go to plan. He decided to come along and refused CYFS to meet with DD alone. My thoughts were that DD had the right to explain how she felt and I was comfortable with her being interviewed with out me. He did not feel the same and pushed his way into the meeting room, which meant that it was pretty much a void event. DD wasn't going to talk with him in there.
They call me the next day and ask me to come back in and I do. They ask can they also invite my support lady from Woman's Refuge and I agree.
The meeting goes for an hour and it is more like an intervention, not that I have been the subject of an intervention before. They are pleading for me to leave the home with the children. I am a mess. And I have to go back to work when it is all finished. Hay fever is an excuse I used a lot as to why my eyes where all red and puffy.
I can remember it was school holidays at the time. And I can remember it was a Friday.
It must have been about 9 o'clock in the evening and the children were in bed asleep. At all times I had a phone in my pocket and a spare key as well. I never felt comfortable and like I always had to be ready to fight.
He comes past and starts complaining that I don't show him enough affection and never want to have sex with him. And that I should, that is a wife's duty to her husband. I ask him can we talk about this another time, it is the end of the week and I am tired. That I don't want this turn into something ugly. I tell him that I have heard him and understand that this is an issue he needs to discuss but I don't think now is the right time.
He seems to be agreeing to this, but in a split second this reason is gone. He is demanding that I prove my love for him by going to bed with him. I am telling him that isn't going to happen. I am hurt and don't trust him. So have no desire to be intimate with him. He doesn't understand. He doesn't know why I feel hurt and don't trust him. He is telling me that I make all these things up in my head, and he hasn't done anything ever to hurt me. That I need to get a grip on reality.
He takes a step closer, I take a step back. He yells at me not to move, he steps into me again and my auto pilot reaction is to step back. He lunges forward and has me by my shoulders, he pushes me against the wall. My arms are pinned there with all of his weight.
I ask him calmly to let me go, let me go now and this doesn't have to happen like this. But he doesn't he pushes me into the wall more. I close my eyes, and he is screaming in my face. Screaming at me to love him, to open my eyes and to stop making up these imaginary scenes of him abusing me. All I can do is be held there every time I struggle he pushes me harder into the wall. His fingers digging into my arms. My ears ringing with the sound of his voice. I can out wait him. Eyes closed trying to find another place to be in my head. After what seems like a few minutes he lets go and stand back. I tell him calmly that I am going to my bedroom, please don't follow me and this will be the end of this. As I walk through my bedroom door I throw my phone of the bed and sit down. He rushes in and grabs the phone and smashes it to pieces. The first thing I do is go to DS bedroom door and stand in front of it. There is now way that I am going to let anything like that happen again. He walks past me and up the hall way. I follow him, and ask him to leave. He is refusing, so I pick up the land line phone and call the police. As soon as he realises what I am doing he runs out the door and drives away.
They Police arrive - the hot one again. The female officers wants to check me for marks so we go to the bedroom and I take my tops off. I have bruises down my back and arms. She takes photo's. I give my statement and they ask do I want to lay charges and I say yes.
That was it, it was done. He was gone.
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