Part 3 – Witnessing domestic violence at home

 

Part 3: (trigger warning)

Having gone through that first bout of violence was a shock to me. It’s something I hadn’t witnessed in my entire life.

Violence of such ferocity.

I mean, my Dad…he was emotionally abusive but never overtly physically violent. So this was new to me.

In truth I thought it was a once off. Being young and very inexperienced with people, I had brushed his act of craziness off on a night fueled with alcohol and mayhem. Who hasn’t done something crazy when they’re drunk, right?

I have never hit a woman in my life, though. But I didn’t think of it that way. I wasn’t thinking straight.

So the relationship between the two “lovebirds” prospered for the next few weeks. Jim treating Hannah like she was a princess, Hannah loving every moment of it. Sucking up his advances like the royalty she was. They had a happy few weeks, if I’m honest.

When I look back, Jim was the most insecure man I’ve probably ever had the misfortune to meet in my entire life. People would say his demon was the drink, but I wouldn’t; his demon was his lack of control and crushing insecurity. I’d watched him take himself from completely stone cold sober to absolutely drunk in 30 minutes.

Why?

Because he needed the confidence to argue and fight with his partner. He didn’t have that when he was sober. Rather than talking things over like a sensible 30 year old would do, he would fuel his anger with alcohol and end up throwing his fists around like the knuckle dragging thug that he was…

That hit women.

And I can see where his insecurity stemmed from. I couldn’t back then, but I can see it now. He had such a lack of moral standing, he would give way wholly to his compulsions. He would have sex with other women and do shady things that were entirely off the books. And people tend to judge life by their own standards. So if you’re a person who sleeps around and lacks control or any sort of moral judgment, you’re going to believe most others are like that too.

He didn’t want Hannah to be doing what he did. But he knew that absolutely everyone in the world was entirely like him in every way. Even me. The number of times he accused me of having sex with his partner was unbelievable, even though we had never even exchanged any sort of flirtation.  Jim felt the need to bear his weight upon us in crushingly insecure ways.

And the amount of times the police were at our house was unreal. I personally was almost never there to tell the tale, but I expect it was bad. There was once though; I came home in a drunken stupor and a Policeman asked me some questions. I was too drunk to answer them. Can’t remember much about that day.

It was sad really because after the whole 8 month debacle–that’s how long we lived together –I had to be reprogrammed.

I’m ashamed to admit this, but my perception of women had totally changed since Jim, and not in a good way.

I had seen some of the worst of what Society has to offer during that affair; a no-one caught in between a twisted relationship.

I walked away with distorted ideas of how women should be treated and that wasn’t fair to me, because my Mother had raised me so well on the issue. I had the utmost respect for women before this happened. I had seen Hannah act out on occasion to get attention, and although this definitely was not her fault, I started to see a side of women I had never seen before. I became jaded. And twisted myself.

They both left in the end. I was super, super pleased to see them go. They had swapped my humble flat in the town for a cabin in the woods. And sadly, this really wasn’t good news for Hannah. They were entirely secluded. Away from anyone.

“If a man rapes you in the woods do you actually make a noise?”

I have that chilling thought and imagine the shit that she undoubtedly went through. But I’ll never know. They pretty much severed contact from me from then on. I was glad; my life ebbed back to the quiet and humble life it was. But I still needed help.

8 months of that affair and I was seriously in need of some rehabilitation. Which I thankfully received, and it was helpful and effective.

And this is mostly why you’ll now see me as a protector.

I stand tall and try to help those in need. No-one should go through anything remotely like what I witnessed. I don’t want anyone experiencing that. However little.

They split eventually. It was a relationship doomed to failure. Hannah is very happily married now, with a loving husband and two super children, which is wonderful to see; and Jim?  Well, he’s married. And I don’t want to know much about him.

Sometimes I imagine brushing paths with him again; I take a knife and jam it into his fucking eye socket. And take pleasure as the blood slowly gushes out of his wound, and watch and laugh as the life is slowly drained out of his spasming body.

I don’t condone violence. But I feel it’s nice to vent my hate, at least in this safe way. These are my issues to work through.