The Beyond Terror Years
Without Prejudice
There were years of torture for me and the girls after Lauren died. The world as we knew it, just exploded. There were the unbelievable feelings we had to deal with and Roger Johnston, our Family doctor warned us of this. he gave us enough sedatives for 2 days and then said we were better off going through the emotions. That we would have emotions unlike anything we had been through ever.
So we sedated ourselves for 2 days and then went through all the rest, for ever, on and on. The girls and I just stuck together and tried to fight all the enemies. Our weaknesses, our infighting. It was beyond torture for the first few months as we tried to stick together and stay sane and stable. My ex husband left at long last and we could breathe again. We were over his hatred of the world, he alone perfect in an imperfect world.
It was like the most intense feeling of relief when he left with his dark hatreds. The girls and I liked each other and enjoyed each others company. he was a waste of space and I knew that as I never missed him, not once.
After sleeping cheek by jowl with him since I was 17. never missed him for one second. My family was fucked, according to him, and all of his family. Sluts and losers he thought of them, all woman sluts and all men losers. God, lucky he had himself as perfection otherwise he might have been in trouble.
Perfection was his bar Girl girlfriend in the Phillipines who he was supporting at $400 a month so she didn't have to prostitute herself. We off course got jack shit, not even maintenance for Alena, but we didn't want it or need it. Alena just went to work as soon as she turned 15. She had been 14 when Lauren died and the most affected in age.
She was a gutsy girl though and took a beating with a baseball bat by two so called friends and then more and more betrayals by her Father and she rode it all out. He had ignored her for years anyway and she took her first overdose before Lauren died. She was 12 and rang her Dad from hospital. he didn't go to see her of course, I did, he had to go see his new found mates at the Nu Hotel.
He did tell her to stick her head in a gas oven when she was 16, however. And he meant it. I have often thought of writing a book devoted to his parenting tips and would call it
"Parenting Tips according to Haitch "
I can't even begin to tell you of the years of terror under his rule. He would fly into rages and strike the table so the tea pot leapt up and spilled. The rants we were subjected to, trapped in the car with him, ranting for hours at his family, (all fucked ), his workers, also all fucked, my family also fucked, you get the picture. His sisters were bitches and sluts, one a stuck up bitch and another a misery. His brother a likeable guy was sooooooo fucked up and useless as all let out out.
His Mum and Dad didn't escape his wrath either. they had beaten and tortured him, ( he said ) and his mother had made him shoot his own dog, he was made to wear nail polish to school and a nappy as he wet his pants. According to him, his Mum and dad only loved his Sisters and younger brother, not him.
He was so deranged and damaged in some terrible way. Either that or he was just plain nasty and manipulative, given to dark silent hostile moods or sullen silences, he would ignore us and not talk to some of us for weeks and we would have to get around him and his moods.
He was caught stealing from school and was in big trouble from the word get go. Loud voiced and aggressive. He loved to torture others with his nasty remarks calling them fat, ugly, stupid. On and on and on.
He was such a handful by the time he was 16 he was sent to his Uncles in Port Augusta as an apprentice on the Railways. he stole tools from his employer and was arrested and sent to Magill Reform School. he was always honest about his past mistakes.
His Uncle who had been looking after him then in Port Augusta was disgusted with him and sent him back to Victoria and by the time he was 18, he was unemployed and heading for Queensland. His Father and him having a bitter fight and he walked off the farm that day not to return for a long while.
One of his best friends murdered his own parents, Robert Paslow. Bob had grown up with him and he said he was mad. Could shoot a potato out of your hand and did. he was the talk of Loch , Poowong and Korumburra for a few years, Robert Paslow. He was supposed to be up for hanging but Robert Ryan went first and he was the last man to be hung in Australia amd Paslow escaped that fate.
He hung around some farm boys that practised bestiality and incest and was not too fazed by it all. he saw his cousin and wife in an erotic embrace once and ended up having a love affair with her. he was loose on morals and strong on judging others and never thought it applied to him. He had a low sex drive and could go without sex for months at a time, even as a young Man and said he had never masturbated in his life. He was weird.
He would push me away physically if I went to hug him or kiss him and meant it. We had our fun times as well, we were young and in love with each other and I went for years believing no one with derogatory remarks about him. He was my husband and I had promised for better or worse. The girls and I learned quickly to live around him. He was gone a lot of the time and if there was ever an emergency he expected me to deal with it.
Don't ask, don't tell. We had a whole other life when he wasn't around. We danced and sang and made cakes and went to restaurants and movies, just me and the girls. And I loved them, my little girls and so did he, he just couldn't show it. Except to buy them things and me. He bought my make up and clothes, shoes, he was good at interior decorator and did the grocery shopping and loved to unpack it all and put it away.
He had the whole kitchen redone while I was in the UK with his Mother in 82. he said it was like living in a war zone for a month, the fridge out in the family room and pathways to the bathroom. He chose everything, the curtains, the new bedroom suite, the furniture, the carpet.
The bedroom was like something out of a forties movie, all art deco in Apricot. It was gorgeous but when I had to get the house ready for sale I realised none of it was "Me". Nothing, not one thing, except the girls, and a Royal Albert tea Set I bought when my Scottish Auntie were visiting.
It's all that remains of our time together and I keep it as Lauren used to make me cups of tea and used always the best china, The Royal Albert. It reminds me of my two lovely scottish Aunts as well, Gladys and Heather. They used to sing with my Dad when young. They had their own stage act and apparently were very good. So the tea set remains loved and glows its warm memories. Teas on the back lawn, with flies buzzing around our heads. The rich gurgle of tea being poured from pot to cup, the thin china clasped in hand with our pinkies up. Class.
To Be continued ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
There were years of torture for me and the girls after Lauren died. The world as we knew it, just exploded. There were the unbelievable feelings we had to deal with and Roger Johnston, our Family doctor warned us of this. he gave us enough sedatives for 2 days and then said we were better off going through the emotions. That we would have emotions unlike anything we had been through ever.
So we sedated ourselves for 2 days and then went through all the rest, for ever, on and on. The girls and I just stuck together and tried to fight all the enemies. Our weaknesses, our infighting. It was beyond torture for the first few months as we tried to stick together and stay sane and stable. My ex husband left at long last and we could breathe again. We were over his hatred of the world, he alone perfect in an imperfect world.
It was like the most intense feeling of relief when he left with his dark hatreds. The girls and I liked each other and enjoyed each others company. he was a waste of space and I knew that as I never missed him, not once.
After sleeping cheek by jowl with him since I was 17. never missed him for one second. My family was fucked, according to him, and all of his family. Sluts and losers he thought of them, all woman sluts and all men losers. God, lucky he had himself as perfection otherwise he might have been in trouble.
Perfection was his bar Girl girlfriend in the Phillipines who he was supporting at $400 a month so she didn't have to prostitute herself. We off course got jack shit, not even maintenance for Alena, but we didn't want it or need it. Alena just went to work as soon as she turned 15. She had been 14 when Lauren died and the most affected in age.
She was a gutsy girl though and took a beating with a baseball bat by two so called friends and then more and more betrayals by her Father and she rode it all out. He had ignored her for years anyway and she took her first overdose before Lauren died. She was 12 and rang her Dad from hospital. he didn't go to see her of course, I did, he had to go see his new found mates at the Nu Hotel.
He did tell her to stick her head in a gas oven when she was 16, however. And he meant it. I have often thought of writing a book devoted to his parenting tips and would call it
"Parenting Tips according to Haitch "
I can't even begin to tell you of the years of terror under his rule. He would fly into rages and strike the table so the tea pot leapt up and spilled. The rants we were subjected to, trapped in the car with him, ranting for hours at his family, (all fucked ), his workers, also all fucked, my family also fucked, you get the picture. His sisters were bitches and sluts, one a stuck up bitch and another a misery. His brother a likeable guy was sooooooo fucked up and useless as all let out out.
His Mum and Dad didn't escape his wrath either. they had beaten and tortured him, ( he said ) and his mother had made him shoot his own dog, he was made to wear nail polish to school and a nappy as he wet his pants. According to him, his Mum and dad only loved his Sisters and younger brother, not him.
He was so deranged and damaged in some terrible way. Either that or he was just plain nasty and manipulative, given to dark silent hostile moods or sullen silences, he would ignore us and not talk to some of us for weeks and we would have to get around him and his moods.
He was caught stealing from school and was in big trouble from the word get go. Loud voiced and aggressive. He loved to torture others with his nasty remarks calling them fat, ugly, stupid. On and on and on.
He was such a handful by the time he was 16 he was sent to his Uncles in Port Augusta as an apprentice on the Railways. he stole tools from his employer and was arrested and sent to Magill Reform School. he was always honest about his past mistakes.
His Uncle who had been looking after him then in Port Augusta was disgusted with him and sent him back to Victoria and by the time he was 18, he was unemployed and heading for Queensland. His Father and him having a bitter fight and he walked off the farm that day not to return for a long while.
One of his best friends murdered his own parents, Robert Paslow. Bob had grown up with him and he said he was mad. Could shoot a potato out of your hand and did. he was the talk of Loch , Poowong and Korumburra for a few years, Robert Paslow. He was supposed to be up for hanging but Robert Ryan went first and he was the last man to be hung in Australia amd Paslow escaped that fate.
He hung around some farm boys that practised bestiality and incest and was not too fazed by it all. he saw his cousin and wife in an erotic embrace once and ended up having a love affair with her. he was loose on morals and strong on judging others and never thought it applied to him. He had a low sex drive and could go without sex for months at a time, even as a young Man and said he had never masturbated in his life. He was weird.
He would push me away physically if I went to hug him or kiss him and meant it. We had our fun times as well, we were young and in love with each other and I went for years believing no one with derogatory remarks about him. He was my husband and I had promised for better or worse. The girls and I learned quickly to live around him. He was gone a lot of the time and if there was ever an emergency he expected me to deal with it.
Don't ask, don't tell. We had a whole other life when he wasn't around. We danced and sang and made cakes and went to restaurants and movies, just me and the girls. And I loved them, my little girls and so did he, he just couldn't show it. Except to buy them things and me. He bought my make up and clothes, shoes, he was good at interior decorator and did the grocery shopping and loved to unpack it all and put it away.
He had the whole kitchen redone while I was in the UK with his Mother in 82. he said it was like living in a war zone for a month, the fridge out in the family room and pathways to the bathroom. He chose everything, the curtains, the new bedroom suite, the furniture, the carpet.
The bedroom was like something out of a forties movie, all art deco in Apricot. It was gorgeous but when I had to get the house ready for sale I realised none of it was "Me". Nothing, not one thing, except the girls, and a Royal Albert tea Set I bought when my Scottish Auntie were visiting.
It's all that remains of our time together and I keep it as Lauren used to make me cups of tea and used always the best china, The Royal Albert. It reminds me of my two lovely scottish Aunts as well, Gladys and Heather. They used to sing with my Dad when young. They had their own stage act and apparently were very good. So the tea set remains loved and glows its warm memories. Teas on the back lawn, with flies buzzing around our heads. The rich gurgle of tea being poured from pot to cup, the thin china clasped in hand with our pinkies up. Class.
To Be continued ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
