#123: Daddy’s Gonna Pay For Your Crashed Car
Not everything is happy days and fun stuff like someone going out on a home visit and having a dog engage in carnal knowledge of their leg. For everything that happens that makes you chuckle at the sheer insanity of people and situations, someone will always come along to bring you right down to earth, with a shattering, not shuddering, thud. Not everything that happens has a happy ending and something always happens to remind you that, despite any amount of years and knowledge thatg you've gainedThis was one such day. It started out as a perfectly normal interview. I was happy that a support worker was in attendance, and it was a support worker that I’d dealt with before and had established a rapport with. All was well really, the usual stuff, domestic violence, drugs, alcohol abuse – you name it, it was there. The person in question had almost reached the milestone birthday where life begins anew and already had twelve kids to their name, with ages ranging from the ages of twenty three through to just under a year. What can I say? Some people start early. At least six different fathers and kids all over the country. Good stuff.
Now the support worker and myself were busy working up plans and the like when the person in question said that they had a desire to discuss one important aspect of the domestic violence. Now in this job, and in life really, I’ve seen and heard almost everything, and I expect that the support worker has as well. Still, this was a new one by me and it bothered me. A lot. Here’s how it unfolded.
ME: So, you're a victim of domestic violence?
CUST: Yep. Last time he bashed me so badly that I miscarriaged at four months. Put his hands in my mouth and broke my jaw and knocked my eye out of it's socket.
ME: Jesus! Did you engage the Domestic Violence Crisis Service?
CUST: Nope.
ME: Why? They do provide shelter.
CUST: Yeah, but when I did they put me in a boarding house with druggies.
ME: But it says here that you're also addicted to valium, are on the methadone program and have problems with alcohol.
CUST: So?
ME: In effect you're also a drug addict.
CUST: Doesn't mean I want to hang around with the losers. Stupid bastards.
SUPPORT WORKER: Hang on, he broke your jaw? How?
CUST: He punched me to the ground. He then sat on my chest and punched me in the right eye constantly. After a bit, can’t say how long, he knocked my eye out and fractured my eye socket. Well, they said it was a fracture, I think he just fucked it up completely. Then he put both his hands in my mouth.
SW: You didn’t think to bite him?
CUST: I was barely conscious. He grabbed the top of my jaw and the bottom and just pulled my jaw apart. Sounded like someone breaking a chicken wishbone actually.
ME: Jesus!!
At this point I caught a glance from the support worker. She looked horrified and I knew this was the first she’d heard of the extent of the violence. I looked back probably with the same look of shock and horror on my face. But it wasn’t over.
CUST: Once he’d broken my jaw he kept pulling until he’d torn the skin and nearly ripped my bottom jaw off. I wanted to pass out but for some reason I couldn’t. But I could barely move, and that’s when he kicked me.
ME: He kicked you?
CUST: Yep, he kicked me in the guts and kept going. That’s why I miscarried.
SW: I’m sorry to hear that.
CUST: Yeah. Me too. I was four months pregnant and he kicked the foetus out of me right there and then. Lots of blood was on the floor. I was upset.
ME: Fu…Jesus! I don’t know what to say.
CUST: Yep, that was the worst of it.
ME: So where are you staying now?
CUST: Oh, I couch surf a lot. When he cracks the shits I generally leave.
ME: Hang on a second – he did all of that to you and you STILL live with him?
CUST: Yep. The Domestic Violence Service reckon that if I keep going back then they can’t help me.
ME: Why do you go back?
CUST: Well he is the dad of three of my kids.
ME: That’s…nah, I’m speechless.
By this point the support worker was sitting there stunned.
CUST: I don’t stay there often and he hasn’t hit me since. He is going to court though.
ME: Thank Christ for that.
CUST: Yeah, he beat up the guy upstairs and has to go for assault on him as well.
ME: What have the police said?
CUST: Oh, they say they’re going to lock him up. He’s pleaded not guilty though and says that the cops are on his side.
ME: Trust me with this – in these situations, the coppers are never on the side of anyone who’s done what he’s done.
CUST: Yeah, but he says they are. So I’ll wait til he’s locked up and then move. Then he can’t touch me.
Plans of action were then put in place and it’s just wait and see. The pair left the building and went back to the agency. A day later the phone rang – it was the support worker.
SW: Fucking hell man. I can’t get that out of my head.
ME: Me neither, but what can we do?
SW: Well she refuses to engage and get this – she’s going back to him today.
ME: Fuck!
SW: I guess we should watch the obits.
ME: Let’s hope he gets locked up before he does anything else. Ya know, people wonder why I have nightmares.
SW: Me too.
What happens next is anyone guess.
Now the support worker and myself were busy working up plans and the like when the person in question said that they had a desire to discuss one important aspect of the domestic violence. Now in this job, and in life really, I’ve seen and heard almost everything, and I expect that the support worker has as well. Still, this was a new one by me and it bothered me. A lot. Here’s how it unfolded.
ME: So, you're a victim of domestic violence?
CUST: Yep. Last time he bashed me so badly that I miscarriaged at four months. Put his hands in my mouth and broke my jaw and knocked my eye out of it's socket.
ME: Jesus! Did you engage the Domestic Violence Crisis Service?
CUST: Nope.
ME: Why? They do provide shelter.
CUST: Yeah, but when I did they put me in a boarding house with druggies.
ME: But it says here that you're also addicted to valium, are on the methadone program and have problems with alcohol.
CUST: So?
ME: In effect you're also a drug addict.
CUST: Doesn't mean I want to hang around with the losers. Stupid bastards.
SUPPORT WORKER: Hang on, he broke your jaw? How?
CUST: He punched me to the ground. He then sat on my chest and punched me in the right eye constantly. After a bit, can’t say how long, he knocked my eye out and fractured my eye socket. Well, they said it was a fracture, I think he just fucked it up completely. Then he put both his hands in my mouth.
SW: You didn’t think to bite him?
CUST: I was barely conscious. He grabbed the top of my jaw and the bottom and just pulled my jaw apart. Sounded like someone breaking a chicken wishbone actually.
ME: Jesus!!
At this point I caught a glance from the support worker. She looked horrified and I knew this was the first she’d heard of the extent of the violence. I looked back probably with the same look of shock and horror on my face. But it wasn’t over.
CUST: Once he’d broken my jaw he kept pulling until he’d torn the skin and nearly ripped my bottom jaw off. I wanted to pass out but for some reason I couldn’t. But I could barely move, and that’s when he kicked me.
ME: He kicked you?
CUST: Yep, he kicked me in the guts and kept going. That’s why I miscarried.
SW: I’m sorry to hear that.
CUST: Yeah. Me too. I was four months pregnant and he kicked the foetus out of me right there and then. Lots of blood was on the floor. I was upset.
ME: Fu…Jesus! I don’t know what to say.
CUST: Yep, that was the worst of it.
ME: So where are you staying now?
CUST: Oh, I couch surf a lot. When he cracks the shits I generally leave.
ME: Hang on a second – he did all of that to you and you STILL live with him?
CUST: Yep. The Domestic Violence Service reckon that if I keep going back then they can’t help me.
ME: Why do you go back?
CUST: Well he is the dad of three of my kids.
ME: That’s…nah, I’m speechless.
By this point the support worker was sitting there stunned.
CUST: I don’t stay there often and he hasn’t hit me since. He is going to court though.
ME: Thank Christ for that.
CUST: Yeah, he beat up the guy upstairs and has to go for assault on him as well.
ME: What have the police said?
CUST: Oh, they say they’re going to lock him up. He’s pleaded not guilty though and says that the cops are on his side.
ME: Trust me with this – in these situations, the coppers are never on the side of anyone who’s done what he’s done.
CUST: Yeah, but he says they are. So I’ll wait til he’s locked up and then move. Then he can’t touch me.
Plans of action were then put in place and it’s just wait and see. The pair left the building and went back to the agency. A day later the phone rang – it was the support worker.
SW: Fucking hell man. I can’t get that out of my head.
ME: Me neither, but what can we do?
SW: Well she refuses to engage and get this – she’s going back to him today.
ME: Fuck!
SW: I guess we should watch the obits.
ME: Let’s hope he gets locked up before he does anything else. Ya know, people wonder why I have nightmares.
SW: Me too.
What happens next is anyone guess.
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