The Girl On The Stairs

This video appeared today. It gave me a sense of hope. Who can forget the girl on the stairs, sporting a massive black eye?

Ted Talk

I am not particularly aware of actual infidelity on my ex’s part, although he certainly had a harem.

This is her recently, having had the courage to share her pain with the world.

Today I related so much to her bruised and battered face, I know what it is to have a black eye, inflicted by somebody who claimed to love me.

We don’t have stairs but almost everything else in that video, could have been me. I could not get help. I reached out to psychologists, police etc.

Psychologists in particular damaged me more. When I first reached out to police, my abuser merely pointed to my kidney medication and that was enough to convince them I was crazy. They had then removed me and taken me over to a friend’s house, making me leave my children vulnerable and exposed.

Counselors also repeatedly failed to recognise, I was dealing with what I now believe was a Cluster B.

I had to sneak back into the house as if nothing had happened to protect my children. From that point on I had known, it was down to me. He had even written me a note threatening to have the children “put in care” and telling me I would “end up old and alone.”. “Old and alone”. sounded great to me at the time but I knew he would have no hesitation in finding a way to have our children “put in care.”

I felt I had no reason to believe that authorities would protect either me or my children, so I developed strategies using my experiences as a teacher, to try to keep us all safe, until the children would be old enough to make their own decisions about where they wanted to live.That moment came thirteen years later, thanks largely to the incredible Rosie Batty, who helped educate us here in Australia, about the true nature of abusers.

They do not have anger issues and the rash of largely useless “anger management” courses, are usually wasted on domestic abusers, in my view.

An abuser’s rage is not out of control. My abuser could turn his anger off, like a light. I remember cowering in a chair with him towering over me , awaiting the blows. Something I said reached him and he had calmed immediately and had walked away smirking.

When I finally dialed 000 again. I spoke my truth. I asked them to send me somebody smart enough to see through his nonsense, or words to that effect.

One policeman showed up that day. I was scared. I thought,

“Here we go again.”

I could not have been more wrong. This policeman finally listened to me. I told the whole story, even the bits for which I believed I would be judged. My abuser could deny nothing.

That wonderful policeman, calmly told my ex to walk to the car and wait. He had then tended to all of us, even taking the time to explain to my concerned son that his father would be ok, as he had gone quietly.

It may have taken thirteen years but when justice had finally come, it was sweet..

Source:Ted X Talks,

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