Thrice October

Would the streak of shitty Octobers ever end?

October 2008:

At the start of October, a friend's baby died. I was at her blessingway. I was with her in the days before birth. I was at her birth. It was beautiful, and then her baby died. The heartbreak of that was beyond words. I screamed as loud as I could in the car driving home but no matter how loudly I shouted, I didn’t feel any release. It wasn’t fair she wasn’t home, boobying a newborn girl. The way the hospital treated her afterwards was horrific. I supported her as best as I could, despite the domestic violence that was happening at home.

I missed my Dad's birthday because I was at hospital all day with my friend and dealing with police officers investigating the birth.

Back at home, in the two weeks that followed, Ernest was being a moody unsupportive git and chucking many tantrums befitting of a toddler. (My own toddler was more behaved than he was!) Ernest shut himself into the bedroom after we got home from a difficult shop with the kids (difficult cos he wasn’t being a mature adult let alone a parent!). I just slid down against the wall and cried with hungry kids climbing over me, food bags all around. I felt so powerless to enact change in my life. That was the beginning of the end.

Against that wall, I slowly began to realise a feeling rising within. Rage. Unjust, unfair, not cool, UNFUCKINGACCEPTABLE. All of a sudden it rushed in, filling me up. I decided to leave and go for a trip and get away from him for a while. I was going to take the kids with me as he couldn't be trusted to look after them. He stopped me from leaving. He blocked the doorways. Then he jerked the kids from me, and while holding 3 yo Tyger in his arms, Ernest spat in my face!

I stayed because both Kalea and Tyger were screaming and crying for me. Fucker. I called my Mum at some point to help, and she called the police. They removed him from the house and told me about the DVO. I put in a DVO and hoped his behaviour would improve now that a judge had told him off. It didn’t. Rather, it changed. More subtle controlling passive aggressive crap. Was it just all in my head I wondered?

Another friend who recently went through an abusive relationship helped me process what was happening to me, and I read a really good book on domestic violence. I understood with perfect clarity, if I wanted the cycle to stop, for the relationship to change for the better, I’d have to move out, and fast. I understood how I had tried so many things and why they didn't work - because he was unwilling to take responsibility for himself. I understood on an intuitive level the dangers of being sucked back into the trap. I moved out in the last week of October.

Come November, I was living two hours away! Our relationship had lasted seven years. Lucky seven, it got me the fuck out of there when I realised it had been seven years and I wasn’t about to make it eight.

 

October 2009:

Twice October, after a year of dealing with escalated abuse and violence from Ernest, reading lots of books, and getting counselling, I had build up a good understanding of abuse and domestic violence.

I recognised many aspects of my frustration and anger towards my Mum, and their roots in my childhood and growing up experiences. I identified emotional abuse and began to understand other factors involved such as the formation of separate identities of mother/daughter and how it was likely my deafness also factored in this conflict.

Once I saw this, I recognised unhealthy mother substitute in an older friend who I helped with running her organisation. I saw how Joyous Birth was not a healthy organisation at all. I decided I didn’t like J’s behaviour or how it was wrapped in deceit and the guise of “healthy” when it wasn’t at all. Decided too much of my time was spent doing work for the organisation and decided to draw back gradually. Then my stupid conscience came up and I decided to try bringing the organisational and ethics issues to attention of the work team and J. It ended up in a horrible mess with the people who recognised the shit for what it was, leaving. I left too.

I decided if I was going to cut ties with those in my life that weren't benefiting my life, I may as well do something about my mother. There was no denying the mother-daughter dynamic was not healthy for both of us, and was causing me a lot of emotional stress. I decided to cut all contact to give myself time to grow up out from under her shadow. This was the beginning of the transition from my mother's child, to my mother's adult child.

 

October 2010:

Thrice October, a few months ago I cut ties with Ernest further to make it extremely difficult for him to continue his abusive behaviours towards me - I refused to be his friend. The friendship was the hardest to break off but it was necessary. I was also pregnant and just getting over the morning sickness of the first trimester.

The car loan on the cursed Yaris was finalised in October and I was not told. However Ernest did text me to let me know the insurance on the car had expired a few months ago. I was driving uninsured! I quickly sorted it out, and then forgot about it until early 2011 where my mother prompted me to check into the car loan. There was no car loan! It was finalised in October, a couple of days after Ernest had texted me about the insurance. Coincidence much? I also got a text in 2011 from Ernest when I finally put in for child support through the child support agency. It said we had to discuss the car if I wanted to claim child support. I ignored it as it was up to the child support agency to sort all the finances out. Then he sent another text threatening legal action and saying that he "could not pay for both child support and the car loan". Funny that. I wonder how long he was planning on benefiting from a car loan that was no longer in effect!

October 2011:

Peace. Quiet. We had not seen Ernest since December 2010, and my streak of shitty Octobers was finally over! To celebrate, I sold the fucking nothing-but-trouble Yaris and joyously bought a Toyota Hilux dual cab ute. Fucking A!

 

 

Narratives of My History Herstory.

Narrative, n. A spoken or written account of connected events; a story.

Please read this first before continuing...!

Inane Drivel ~ Fuck Skool Yo. - the beginning of my unschooling journey at 16 yrs old.

Seven Years in Me - my experiences of domestic violence

Breaking Free - a short story based on fact, names changed

Confessions of an Ex-Lapdog - on cults and recovery.

Joyous Birth - A political cult? - exploring cultish aspects

Growing Into Me - the transition from child-me to adult-me.

Shae - single mothering by choice.

A Recalcitrant Pity-fest - realisations of the hardships of deafness.

Thrice October - A tumultuous progression.

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copyright © Lisa Morgan 2007-2012