Day 2,033 Of Domestic Violence – Home Is Not A Place It’s A Feeling!

Recently I said good bye to the last place I considered home. It was a home I lived in about a decade ago full of fond memories I will cherish forever. I am officially an orphan now and it’s sad to not have that safe place to return to when I need a break from the big bad world. It seems that with finally breaking out in my own has come to the point of no return.

It seems as if that had been happening a lot in 2018. Earlier this year I lost my own home, the first one on my own and one I wanted to share with my son. My Nana’s home was sold as she went into a nursing home as well.

Christine Avenue Varsity Lakes was my home for a few years in 2008. It was the last remaining place that I ever felt a part of a family. It was safe but now that place it set for sale and the occupants to move on to a simpler life away from the hustle and bustle of the Gold Coast’s bright lights.

I lived with a very load family. This family consisted of Mum and Dad (substitute parents), my boyfriend at the time, adopted brother and myself. Let’s not forget the family Pet, Spike!

Just like all naughty children we kept our parents on their toes. No wonder they needed a stiff drink somedays.

This family left an ever lasting impression on me and I will hold them all dearly in my heart forever. I remember terrorizing my adopted brother much like I would had he been my real brother. I love that him and I have stayed close over the years. Some famous words from the wise old adopted father who loves country music are ‘for f**k sake Scott…..’, ‘what’s the f**king point?’, ‘oh f**k off’ just to name a few. In fact I have already named one of my previous blogs in honor of him (‘what’s the fucking point’, on 7th May 2018) I regularly use terms made famous by him in my dad to day living. I remember that afternoons consisted of Bold and the Beautiful at 4.30pm and a glass of wine before my substitute mother yelled ‘guys dinner is ready’.

Apart from occasionally at my Nanny’s house this was the first place I ever consistently sat at a table to eat a meal. Growing up my dad fed us McDonalds or nachos in front of the tv. My mother was always at work so my sister and I sometimes ate at the table together but I remember it being really quite and lonely just the two of us until my stepdad walked in the door between 7 and 7.30 and after catching public transport home by which time we had usually eaten.

Eating dinner at a table as a family might be ‘just a thing’ for some, for me it was massive. It is something I tried to implement in my own life after having my son.

Now this family may have had there issues but I have never felt so much love in one room before in my life. It was almost immediately after moving in that I felt like one of them and it’s a feeling I will hold close to my heart forever. Eating as a family was consistent and everyone knew their rolls, the cooks (parents) and cleaning crew who got fired and rehired every night (three naughty children who snuck off after dinner only to be found smoking and put in their place).

Even though I broke up with this particular boyfriend almost 10 years ago now I have visited this home many times over the last 10 years. On these occasions I have sat at the same table, in the same seat, not alway with all the members as one may have been ‘away’ on a vacation. I even brought my son here when he was a baby to meet my adopted family and see my old house because it was a place that I always treasured.

Saying good bye to it has been a roller coaster of emotions so for the occupants I can only imagine how emotional it will be as they pack up and say good bye.

Officially having no safe place scares me and I hope the future works out in the end. more often than not I have received the raw end of the stick so anxiety sets in when I think about the future.

I have found another new job that if all goes well should result in a more than stable future for my son and I. It’s exciting being part of a business starting at ground zero. With a tight budget and individual fueled with an idea and a whole lot of passion is exciting. When I look at my new bosses face throughout the day I can tell that the old me is returning. I have always been capable, driven and someone talented beyond most.

It reminds me of a show I watched a few years ago, ‘Hold and Catch Fire’. So far it seems like two misfits led by a gentle yet sometimes mad genius who looks somewhat like a teenage kid when he walks around with a backpack on.

Domestic violence took away a lot of my confidence. It began in a subtle way through comments and ended in scary violent scenes. Just as I didn’t see it in the beginning I didn’t see it when they took my son. It has taken time to get back my confident self and I know in time my son will return. When that happens I will make sure that is the last time.

Never before have I heard the advice on how to deal with your daughter upon discovering she is in a domestically violent relationship is to throw her out in the street, attempt to move her violent partner in and use her as a scapegoat. Never have I heard that even though you were a first hand witness, you should lie about what you saw and refuse to tell the police what you saw. Never have I heard that you should write letters of support for the man you saw with your own eyes violently slamming your daughters head into a window sill while she attempted to shield her child underneath her. Never have I heard that you should take away her rights as a mother by exposing her demons and covering up her violent partners. Never have I heard that you should take away two years of her seeing her son grow up because she no longer wants to live with your controlling behaviors. Never have I heard of a mother even thinking such cruel and damaging things. You don’t deserve to call yourself a mother as you are more of a monster who seems to enjoy breaking a person. Your actions have in the last driven your daughter to want to end her own life to escape the pain you inflict upon her and her son first hand.

From the beginning all she asked for was the support of her family. Just the space to get the help she needs and only knows what she needs. In the end I promise you I will never give you the opportunity to know the new me. You deserve so much worse but all you will get is a good bye from me. To live out your days alone and the day you die it will not concern me. You made me hate myself and made this journey so much harder than it needed to be. There is no excuse but if you think you have won the war then just you wait and see.

To my son, one day this will all make sense to you and you will see the truth. Then you can make an informed decision about who you want in your life.

Home is not a place it’s a feeling!

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