I watch my husbands sleeping face, flushed and seemingly peaceful laying upon the cushion on the lounge. I instantly jump to alert as a deafening snore breaks the silence and I listen as the seconds tick by wondering if he will draw breath until he finally lets out the air and sucks another in.
Just hours earlier this man was mowing the lawn, playing with grandkids, collecting the eggs and checking raspberry canes. The sun was shining but then I hear the lid on the fridge in the shed and a "I have worked hard and I deserve a few beers". If you met him before the beer you would probably think he was an alright bloke. Well almost!!
Add alcohol to this person and an arrogant, poor me drama queen emerges,
We have raised 4 children and I can honestly say I am very proud of my kids. Considering the emotional trauma they have grown up with they have become wonderful adults, for I haved lived with a secret for many years. Close family knew but I guess no one ever said anything because to the outside world we looked like the "perfect family".
I can recall a knock at the door one day and opened it to a neighbour that lived up the hill a distance away. I can't recall what he wanted but when he finished he stood and asked was everything ok. I answered yes, not sure what he was referring to. He then said that he hoped I was ok as you would be surprised by what I can hear up there. I remember feeling embarrassed and reassuring him everything was ok and closing the door.
Today I am ashamed to say that I allowed my children grow up in such an abusive environment. I never once answered back, or raised my voice I just took the nasty jibes, the threats of assaults, the fear that this drunk ranting man, who will not listen to any reasoning, who would smash anything in his sight and who could perhaps one day kill me in his rage.
That is an actual fear that i feel. I wonder how many other woman are left feeling like this. It is like this person, the father of my children has two personalities.
For now I know that I am closer than ever to leaving. Everytime the abuse happens I think this is it. I have to leave. But where to? My children would take me in but they have their families now.
The next day it is like nothing has happened or if i mention it then it is that i provoked him in some way. For now I shall sleep on it and just quietly store a few more boxes.
til tomorrow
