Every time I tried to separate from my abuser, I was overwhelmed with guilt and shame. That heavy sinking feeling that dropped into the pit of my stomach every time leaving came around. The suffocating dread and nausea sweeps over you and I started to believe it was anxiety, warning me I was making a mistake, when in reality it was my soul, dropping to her knees, bowing her head in defeat, bracing herself for another round on the emotional roller coaster of verbal insults and emotional blackmail.
My ending was planned, I was building up my strength as my leaving deadline was almost four weeks away. However, the night I left wasn’t planned. After an hour of Oscar performing drama, with no audience paying any attention to his woeful plight, he turned to rage, starting with the furniture. I tried to de-escalate the situation, but nothing worked, because I wasn’t playing this divide and conquer game anymore. I didn’t pacify or placate him. My boundaries were getting stronger. I finally relented and said I will call the police.
For the first time, I was calling the police without a physical mark in my body. I felt stupid because I was unharmed physically, but the environment spoke volumes.
This enlivened him…He went from melodrama to euphoria in seconds? Leaping up, he called the police on me, saying he wanted me out! As I wasn’t on the tenancy!
Funny that, he took a full month and a half rent off me the previous day to allow me and our children to stay till the end off the month.
This was actually to ensure I wasn’t able to financially re-house myself.
He was enthralled with excitement and vigour. This was a huge feast for his ego.
Can you see the game coming into play yet!
I was amazingly calm, through dignified tears I explained the evenings event and some past history, to which the lovely policeman shrugged his shoulders and said it was the law.
He then went on by telling me how he understands how I feel and continued to share all about his recent break up with his wife? The table in front of him was split into two, less than a foot away from his face?
I tried to comprehend the officers rationale! The governments rationale? I’m forced to pay tax for a service that doesn’t protect me or my child?
If a serial offender register was in place the two police officers attending the scene would of been knowledgable about his criminal history. They would of been aware of how many times they had been called. They would of been aware that they were at my house two weeks ago? They would of known about the history of physical attacks, the machete attack, the strangulation attack, the bruised ribs attack, the bruised jaw attack. They would of accessed so much evidence and information.
The police followed orders, they were called to remove me, the victim, because I wasn’t named on a tenancy agreement. Legally, they can, and as my situation proves, they do, support the perpetrator and make a mother and child homeless, to shelter a perpetrator! Even with a teenage child, who was witness to the outburst.
Win win situation for a perpetrator.
It was her own father that made her homeless, he knew my daughter wasn’t going to stay alone with him, she was terrified!
The police gave her a choice. She wasn’t being evicted, she can stay if she wants to?
My daughter looked at me stunned, her eyes ablaze with raw fear, looked behind her at the carnage, shaking her head stiffly, through sheer bewilderment and panic.
The police were so unaware about the disordered dysfunctional character, that they failed to see the bigger picture in this.
Because…..They were being played too!
His manipulation was that good, even the police officers were scared to challenge the situation. They were terrified of the legal implications as his name was on the tenancy agreement, not mine. Legally, he had the ace card and the police were powerless to defend me or my daughter! The victims?
I know. Shameful. My family were not happy that I was treated so flippantly?
‘What…… That’s absurd….you need time to get things together…….a child as witness takes precedence doesn’t it?……I thought the police wanted to catch them…..they’re advertising for children to call them to stamp out abuse?’
No statement, no police case number to validate the night events. No acknowledgment to my daughter, or my experience of that night.
Invalidated. Ignored. Insignificant!
I needed evidence when applying for a restraining order. I couldn’t afford to pay for this. I had managed to find a landlord super fast and a house was available. I was rehoused and living in my own home after six days.
I was allowed a TV, two studio chairs, my clothes and a few pieces of crockery. My daughters were allowed everything from their bedrooms.
I’m not blaming the police in any way regarding my experience. Two weeks prior to this event, they were amazing. I couldn’t fault them at all, I don’t hold any blame towards the police. I actually understand that they too, are held hostage to the red tape surrounding their professional duties.
I think the police get as frustrated as the victims. The overruling power belongs to the crown prosecution service and the government. Not the police, these guys are on the frontline, taking the abuse. They’re getting played too.
However, it was my only opportunity to freedom and paradoxically, was the blessing from a curse.
You see by having me escorted out, was a kind of grand exit. It’s was very dramatic and original for the perpetrator, which he gained a lot of power from. He technically beat the law at their own game. His ego swelled immensely.
He played both his child, ex girlfriend and the police in one hand. It’s was phenomenal.
It’s part of the game. When your not on a tenancy agreement and you live with an abuser. You may aswell declare yourself homeless, get it over and done with because that’s how the abuse and control is powered.