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Life's not improving
Apr. 1st, 2017 03:30 pmA while since I last updated, but really nothing good to report, in fact things have gone from bad to horrendous.
Nearly three weeks ago, I was anxiously awaiting my husband return from work after having three relative weeks of peace. In all those weeks he didn’t contact me once so I knew his homecoming wouldn’t be exactly joyous, but the atmosphere in the house changed the moment he came through the door.
On his first day home, he hardly spoke to me, although I tried to encourage him to share his feelings, but he was tired from a long journey and I accepted that and left him alone.
The second day, he disappeared in the afternoon, not returning until just after midnight. It was obvious that he had spent at least part of that time in the pub for him to come home so late. Ignoring me, he proceeded to put on loud rock music, so I meekly decided to go to bed as I couldn’t hear the TV programme I had been watching any more.
That’s when things exploded. It was obvious he was spoiling for a fight, and this time his he went after my mobile phone. Even in his drunken state, he chased me all over the house trying to get the phone from me, jeering all the time as he did so. At one point, he had me pinned face down on the bed trying to force the phone from my grasp. I was begging him to be reasonable and eventually screaming at the top of my lungs to try to alert my neighbours of my plight.
Somehow he managed to get the phone from me and we ended up downstairs, all the time taunting me on how he was going to destroy this lastest bit of my property.
Terrified for my own safety, I managed to grab a cordless landline phone, shut myself in the garden, dial 999 and shout my address to the controller. I was trying to describe the incident when the line went dead.
Desperate to be able to continue the call, I went back in where my husband was waiting for me, mobile phone in one hand and a hammer in the other. He’s genuinely never had a problem with my phone (which I rarely use) he was just waiting to see my reaction at him hurting me through property damage once again and destroying my last useful link to the outside world.
I tried once again to grab the phone, desperate to be able to get out of the situation and away from him. My husband with a hammer in his hand trying to force me to watch the wilful destruction of my phone was the first sight that greeted the two police officers which walked into my kitchen. I’ve never been so relieved to see police officers before in my life.
The upshot of that night was my husband being taken away for a night in the cells and me staying up all night, being interviewed whilst completely shocked and wired. During the giving of my statement, I tried to message a few people and suddenly realised I no longer had a broadband connection. That’s the first time it had occurred to me that even in his drunken state, my husband had had the foresight to disconnect the landline phone from the inside when I was trying to phone the police.
The following day, I was interviewed by the community policing team who basically tried to give me helpful advice (such as always try and keep a charged mobile about my person –Hah!) but I’d learned my lesson, there was no way I could stay in the house. My husband had been arrested for the previous destruction of the laptop and the threat to my phone but as there was no recordable evidence of harm to myself and because he totally denied any sort of assault, they were the only charges brought.
I went (with my three beloved dogs) to stay with my mother. She has been good to me in sharing her home, but it is a tiny mobile home suitable for only one person. My mother is also very different from me. She has never owned a computer, so hasn’t got Facebook or LJ and doesn’t know how to send a text. Therefore she has no idea of the restriction I feel for having little access to my online life (all of which has had to be conducted from my phone.) I also enjoy the odd beer to relax on a night off from work, something as a teetotaller she completely detests.She nearly had apoplexy when I had a second can the other night. Heaven knows, if ever I could have used a beer to help me relax it’s now! The dogs almost saved my sanity the first night or two, but even though they were tremendously well behaved, the stress of having them all in such a small place together with my mother’s small yappy terrier (which is spoiled and untrained) soon wore everyone’s patience. A few days ago, I made a 500 mile round trip to place the dogs into long term foster care. When or whether I will ever be in the position to take them back, I don't know.
In the meantime, I have had NO idea how to carry on living my life. I have next to no money to my name, all of my possessions are in the house which my husband’s been bailed back to and after living 10 years in a place that I have made my sanctuary, I’m very very homesick. Though my husband and I were jointly buying the house, his sole intention was getting me out of it in order to go back to the bachelor lifestyle he claims he preferred. He therefore has no intention of leaving the property and even less intention of me getting any monies I might be owed. His case came to court and he was fined £1500 (which as far as I know is damages to come back to me in lieu of the ruined computer and distress to myself.) I now have a restraining order against him for the next six months. None of this has particularly bothered him however; his answer to it all was to simply sign up to a couple of dating sites.
So I’m still at my mothers, still shell shocked and still feeling all at sea. I’m currently waiting to hear about a flat to rent which I dearly hope will come through as it’s the only vague possibility that I’ve heard about that I can remotely afford. Fortunately I have passed referencing to become a tenant, though the work needed to collect all the data required was incredibly stressful as my husband was being so unfair about me gaining access to collect the relevant documents.
My next move will have to be to instruct a solicitor, something I’ve so far shied away from as I’m so poor, but I’m awaiting a meeting with a domestic abuse intervention team so I might be able to find out if I could possibly get legal aid or at least some help financially as I have no idea how to afford legal fees otherwise.
My dearest wish at the moment is to get my flat so that I can get my dear dogs back and have some space to call my own. Then in the future, I might once again get to own my own computer again (I’m typing this in the public library) so that I might be able to at last put some happier posts up. Thankyou (as always) for your time xx
Nearly three weeks ago, I was anxiously awaiting my husband return from work after having three relative weeks of peace. In all those weeks he didn’t contact me once so I knew his homecoming wouldn’t be exactly joyous, but the atmosphere in the house changed the moment he came through the door.
On his first day home, he hardly spoke to me, although I tried to encourage him to share his feelings, but he was tired from a long journey and I accepted that and left him alone.
The second day, he disappeared in the afternoon, not returning until just after midnight. It was obvious that he had spent at least part of that time in the pub for him to come home so late. Ignoring me, he proceeded to put on loud rock music, so I meekly decided to go to bed as I couldn’t hear the TV programme I had been watching any more.
That’s when things exploded. It was obvious he was spoiling for a fight, and this time his he went after my mobile phone. Even in his drunken state, he chased me all over the house trying to get the phone from me, jeering all the time as he did so. At one point, he had me pinned face down on the bed trying to force the phone from my grasp. I was begging him to be reasonable and eventually screaming at the top of my lungs to try to alert my neighbours of my plight.
Somehow he managed to get the phone from me and we ended up downstairs, all the time taunting me on how he was going to destroy this lastest bit of my property.
Terrified for my own safety, I managed to grab a cordless landline phone, shut myself in the garden, dial 999 and shout my address to the controller. I was trying to describe the incident when the line went dead.
Desperate to be able to continue the call, I went back in where my husband was waiting for me, mobile phone in one hand and a hammer in the other. He’s genuinely never had a problem with my phone (which I rarely use) he was just waiting to see my reaction at him hurting me through property damage once again and destroying my last useful link to the outside world.
I tried once again to grab the phone, desperate to be able to get out of the situation and away from him. My husband with a hammer in his hand trying to force me to watch the wilful destruction of my phone was the first sight that greeted the two police officers which walked into my kitchen. I’ve never been so relieved to see police officers before in my life.
The upshot of that night was my husband being taken away for a night in the cells and me staying up all night, being interviewed whilst completely shocked and wired. During the giving of my statement, I tried to message a few people and suddenly realised I no longer had a broadband connection. That’s the first time it had occurred to me that even in his drunken state, my husband had had the foresight to disconnect the landline phone from the inside when I was trying to phone the police.
The following day, I was interviewed by the community policing team who basically tried to give me helpful advice (such as always try and keep a charged mobile about my person –Hah!) but I’d learned my lesson, there was no way I could stay in the house. My husband had been arrested for the previous destruction of the laptop and the threat to my phone but as there was no recordable evidence of harm to myself and because he totally denied any sort of assault, they were the only charges brought.
I went (with my three beloved dogs) to stay with my mother. She has been good to me in sharing her home, but it is a tiny mobile home suitable for only one person. My mother is also very different from me. She has never owned a computer, so hasn’t got Facebook or LJ and doesn’t know how to send a text. Therefore she has no idea of the restriction I feel for having little access to my online life (all of which has had to be conducted from my phone.) I also enjoy the odd beer to relax on a night off from work, something as a teetotaller she completely detests.She nearly had apoplexy when I had a second can the other night. Heaven knows, if ever I could have used a beer to help me relax it’s now! The dogs almost saved my sanity the first night or two, but even though they were tremendously well behaved, the stress of having them all in such a small place together with my mother’s small yappy terrier (which is spoiled and untrained) soon wore everyone’s patience. A few days ago, I made a 500 mile round trip to place the dogs into long term foster care. When or whether I will ever be in the position to take them back, I don't know.
In the meantime, I have had NO idea how to carry on living my life. I have next to no money to my name, all of my possessions are in the house which my husband’s been bailed back to and after living 10 years in a place that I have made my sanctuary, I’m very very homesick. Though my husband and I were jointly buying the house, his sole intention was getting me out of it in order to go back to the bachelor lifestyle he claims he preferred. He therefore has no intention of leaving the property and even less intention of me getting any monies I might be owed. His case came to court and he was fined £1500 (which as far as I know is damages to come back to me in lieu of the ruined computer and distress to myself.) I now have a restraining order against him for the next six months. None of this has particularly bothered him however; his answer to it all was to simply sign up to a couple of dating sites.
So I’m still at my mothers, still shell shocked and still feeling all at sea. I’m currently waiting to hear about a flat to rent which I dearly hope will come through as it’s the only vague possibility that I’ve heard about that I can remotely afford. Fortunately I have passed referencing to become a tenant, though the work needed to collect all the data required was incredibly stressful as my husband was being so unfair about me gaining access to collect the relevant documents.
My next move will have to be to instruct a solicitor, something I’ve so far shied away from as I’m so poor, but I’m awaiting a meeting with a domestic abuse intervention team so I might be able to find out if I could possibly get legal aid or at least some help financially as I have no idea how to afford legal fees otherwise.
My dearest wish at the moment is to get my flat so that I can get my dear dogs back and have some space to call my own. Then in the future, I might once again get to own my own computer again (I’m typing this in the public library) so that I might be able to at last put some happier posts up. Thankyou (as always) for your time xx
