(This post was written on the spur of the moment, completely unpolished).

the sound of silence

I’ve gone and done it again! Just when I thought I couldn’t make things any worse; just when I thought I was getting it right…NOOOOO, I’ve fucked up again!

I’ve told – shhh – I should’ve kept quiet – just like before – just like all the times before – I’ve gone and hurt someone I love; the person who probably means the most to me in all the world – my Mum. I told – I told – I should have kept it to myself. I’m a grown woman, not a young child – I ought to know better – I ought to have known better. It’s too late now. I’ve said it – there – it’s said – Oh! The shame!

I told my Mum about my recent assault – I’d left it two weeks before I told her for fear of upsetting her, but now it seems that I have done more damage than good by leaving it that long. It’s just like before – just like all those other times – I shouldn’t have told her. What is the matter with me? Am I totally stupid, or what? Yes, apparently, it seems that I am.

I felt I had to hide it. I felt I had to hide the shame – like all those times before when I got abused. Now, I’m a grown-up, I should know better. She can’t understand why I didn’t tell her before. I couldn’t – I just couldn’t. It’s been ingrained into my brain, ‘not to tell’. When I told her of my child abuse as an adult many years ago, she didn’t believe me and perhaps didn’t want to believe me. Maybe, it hurt too much to admit it to herself, particularly as it was my father.

She’s so hurt that I kept it from her whilst ‘pretending’ and appearing to be alright and okay on the outside. I wasn’t okay – truly – I was not okay. I was screaming in the silence. I’ve hurt my Mum and I was trying to protect her. How do I ever apologise enough for the pain I’ve caused her? I’m so sorry, Mum; I’m truly sorry. How can I undo the damage I have caused? How can sorry ever be enough?

I should have stayed silent – the sound of silence is infinitely better than the sound of betrayal of trust – my own Mother can no longer trust me to be truthful with her; to be honest. How can I ever put that one right? I could weep tears for the damage I’ve done it now and there’s nothing I can do to turn back the hands of time to do it all differently. I should have kept quiet. I prefer the sound of silence to the sound of pain. Forgive me, my Mother, forgive me, please. I’ve fucked up again.


(Image courtesy of Henry Fuseli)


head screaming

I’ve seen my therapist today, and all sorts of thoughts are flooding my mind like a dam has burst inside my head. I just need to write out these thoughts to get them on paper rather than have them living rent-free in my head and taking up space for something more constructive.

This post isn’t going to be remotely witty or intellectual – it’s just me, Ellie – letting feelings out – trying to remember to breathe – breathing is crucial for survival – so is my writing. Please forgive me my self-indulgence.

I know my anger towards not only my recent assailant but also all my many other abusers in my life is currently turning inwards. I know that I am berating myself, belittling all the abuse I’ve been through and telling myself, “for goodness sake; pull yourself together!!” I have internal chatter running around my head. However, I am trying to fight these unhelpful and negative thoughts and attempting to replace them with more realistic and sensible ones.

I am beginning to recognize that over the years, I have well and truly had my boundaries smashed to pieces. With the downfall of those barriers and the lack of love shown to me in my life, is it any wonder I’m a sucker for affection. Is this what gets me into trouble? Am I too friendly? Do I give the wrong impression? Am I gullible? What the fuck am I doing so wrong?

(Excuse me why I quietly go and hide myself in a corner – and scream and shout and rant and rave! What? Do you mean I’ve done that already?)

I barely recognize my own emotions, and when I do, I give them no respect. “Why???”, I yell at the top of my voice! God – please let me off at the next stop.

“Calm down, Ellie; just calm it right down. Now, stop and … breathe …”. OK. I’m breathing. I’m shattered. I’m emotionally exhausted. I’m drained. I need sleep – restorative sleep; not nightmares running amuck inside my head – peaceful sleep – rest – quiet – repose – AND DON’T BLOODY WELL FORGET TO BREATHE!!




pieces of me sad girl drawing

It’s taking me a long time to recover from the assault I experienced and wrote about last week which I suppose it to be expected. Although I realize how lucky I am to be still here, I haven’t got over the shock and the awful trauma of it all yet and sometimes I just dissolve into pieces and floods of tears.

I have spent the last week being interviewed by the police in the aftermath of what happened to me.  The Victim Support organization have been in touch too and have offered me one to one emotional support for as long as I need it which I appreciate and need so much right now. My GP and the hospital have been so understanding and are helping me recover, physically from the attack.

However, I’m living in fear each day of every knock on the door, every car that pulls up near my house, every unexpected noise or movement even though I know that this ‘man’ is in police custody and can’t reach me. That doesn’t stop me having nightmares. Nor does it stop the overwhelming flashbacks that are almost as real as the event itself.

I’ve told very few people other than the professionals who are dealing with and supporting me. At some point, I have to tell my family as they have guessed something isn’t right even though the nearest of them lives over 60 km away from me. They suspect something is wrong despite how hard I’ve tried to disguise a cracking voice and although they cannot see my tear-stained face. I didn’t want to tell them…

Echoes from decades ago of the instructions from my father, ‘not to say a word’, ring in my ears. “Don’t tell,” “mustn’t tell,” whisper through the trees even on a night like tonight when a storm is raging outside, the river has swollen, and the crab apple tree in the back garden has come down. The outside world so accurately depicts what’s going on inside my head. My heart thump, thump, thumps on the inside of my chest, threatening to break through the delicate tissue of my breast.

The utter shame I felt as a child has returned although I know, logically, now although not then, that the shame belongs one-hundred percent with the offender and the perpetrator.

Nevertheless, I am still in pieces and will take some time to mend.



crying woman drawing

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse … they did. On Monday afternoon, I was sexually assaulted. I am still in a state of shock and wasn’t even able to contact the police until this morning. I don’t know where yesterday went – I’ve sort of lost a day somewhere. It keeps trying to sink into my brain, but something in me is desperately fighting it off. I’m feeling a thousand and more emotions all at once and desperately want to get out from inside my head. The reason that I am writing this, not because I wish to draw attention to myself but because my mind is not capable of dealing with all this without my skull exploding into microscopic particles, and my brain cells self-combusting irretrievably if I do not express myself.

It was approximately 2.30 pm when my window-cleaner called. He had been doing this monthly for at least twenty years, and he had always been a friendly man. He was called Bob, and I’d talked with him many a time over the period where my children were growing up and some of the many years when my mental health was bad. I’d always make him a cup of tea, and we’d chat, and then he went on to his next customer

When I became more physically challenged, I was no longer able to make him a drink so he’d come in with my permission to make his own tea. No problem there. He was amicable enough, and we talked about our offspring and lately he’d been talking to me about his young grandson, He proudly showed me photos of himself with his family and this little toddler.

This Monday, it was different. I’d let him in to make his tea, which he did, making me a coffee at the same time. He sat opposite my wheelchair, and we started chatting. He was complimentary about how well I coped and how I was always cheerful, no matter what. (I would almost pride myself at hiding my true feelings from people other than my family and close friends, and even with them, I’m excellent at glossing over the surface of what seem to be insurmountable problems).

Out of the blue, he suddenly lurched forwards, grabbed me and hurled me to the ground. I didn’t stand a chance of defending myself partly because of my disability, and I think, probably also because I was so shocked that I didn’t even scream. It was like watching myself in a slow-motion horror movie. As he assaulted me, I was as terrified as I had been on those numerous occasions that I had been the subject of child sexual abuse. After what seemed like forever, he was disturbed by my phone ringing. This interruption startled him enough into leaving me alone and completely stunned, and he rapidly headed out of the front door.

After that and yesterday? I don’t know where that time went or what I did. It was when I woke up this morning that I realised the enormity and horror of what I’d experienced. I felt muddled, confused and could hardly believe what had happened. I telephoned the police non-emergency number as if, I think, to kid myself that it was no big deal or was of no importance. When somebody finally answered my call, I found myself blurting everything out including how I was so caught up in the horrors of my son and daughter’s lives currently. It was all too overwhelming as I tried to explain myself, going over everything in fast-forward time. The police asked me for the precise details of the event, but I couldn’t be specific. I told them, crying and sobbing, what I had remembered. They reassured me that I’d taken the correct course of action by phoning them. They said, ‘could I get a friend or neighbour to come and sit with me’. I said there was only my next-door neighbour who was near enough but that she had gone out earlier so they just asked if I was able to phone my family and that a police officer would call to let me know what would happen next.

Well, here I am on Thursday morning. The assault happened on Monday, and I rang the police first thing yesterday morning. I waited for their phone call all day. Nothing – absolutely nothing. And today, so far, still nothing – no follow-up telephone call, no visit. I’m reluctant to phone them again because it is of course so trivial and no cause for concern in their eyes.

Yes, I am angry and upset but it seems plain that I’m making mountains out of molehills; that it is of no importance; that perhaps it’s my fault for letting him in. I hadn’t screamed; I hadn’t shouted; I didn’t even try to push him away; I had it coming, and it’ll teach me a lesson for the future.

My world is presently a dark, black hole in the ground and I am at the very bottom of it without a ladder. I don’t know how I’m going to get out of this space.

No – I don’t feel ‘sorry’ for myself; I don’t want pity; I’m just feeling so furious, vulnerable and very, very alone. 


ripple effect

I don’t know how one twisted woman can be responsible for so much emotional damage to a family. This woman is at the centre of this pernicious ripple effect. Tides of toxic emotion are flowing outwards in ever-increasing circles reaching as far as myself, my eighty-year-old mother and many relatives who are caught up in the middle of this turmoil.

[Since my last post, (Justice Stinks), the situation concerning my son and my grandchildren has got progressively worse. There is to be another important court hearing this week because my daughter-in-law, *Kate and her family are being totally bloody-minded, making everything as difficult as possible for my son, *Tom. Also, they are poisoning a little girl’s mind by telling her lies about her daddy and will doubt start to coach my one-year-old grandchild before very long. Going back to court is costing *Tom another $2,500 in legal fees (taking the total up to $25,000), not that you can put a price on a child’s head.

In the meantime, my daughter, *Clare, has become involved as she is supporting my son. As a result of this, my daughter-in-law’s family are making life hell for *Clare and her two young children too. At the bottom of all this trouble is *PL, (Kate’s aunt) who is the linchpin of this nasty situation. She was the one who, (if you read my blog post ‘Abduction’), is the cause of all the trouble].

How does one sick mind impact on so many people and have the potential to harm the emotional well-being of four children and numerous adults? It’s beyond my comprehension why someone in their right mind would go out of their way to wreak such damage. But then I have to ask myself whether, in fact, she is in her ‘right mind’. Should I (in this case) have more compassion under these circumstances?




I’m aware that I haven’t written this blog for nearly three months, so it may seem strange to see me back albeit briefly. For those of you who have missed me/or remember me, my last post may have lead you to ask “what happened next…?” 

In my opinion, some judges can be downright insensitive idiots. My son, *Tom’s court case to decide on final custody of his little ones, *Lily, aged nearly three, and *Josh, now ten months took place two weeks ago. Bear in mind, Tom has always been the main caregiver for both of his young offspring; the one who gets them up in the morning, gets them bathed and gives them breakfast, then takes Lily to nursery once a week. He works from home in between caring for Josh, and Lily when she returns from the nursery. In the evening, he cooks dinner for everyone, gets the children ready and into bed at night.

The judge, in his infinite wisdom, decided to give custody to *Kate, their so-called mother along with her warring aunt, *PL and uncle *A! Access to the children was awarded to Tom for one weekend every two weeks, and one day in the week in between. That is just so, so wrong!! Tom is obviously devastated as are my family who have supported him all this time. Since then we have been reeling from the shock of what the judge in his infinite wisdom, decided would be best for the children. Where the hell is the justice in that?!

It was Tom’s turn to care for his two little ones last Saturday. I phoned to say hello to Tom and to Lily (Josh obviously being too small to have a conversation with although he did manage a few gurgles when I spoke to him). Lily wanted to talk to me. She is very bright for her age and managed to tell me about a few things they had done that day. She then added, “I don’t want to go back to mummy’s house. I want to stay at daddy’s house”, in her totally unprompted, three-year-old voice. Tom had to persuade her that she was going to have a lovely time at her mum’s (living with their aunt and uncle) and that she could play with her toys and the dog there. However, this was of no consolation and she just cried even more. It was heartbreaking to hear her and know that Tom was powerless to do anything. Tom said that he needed to go now and I could hear his voice cracking up although he held it together for the sake of the children. I just wanted to burst into tears but had to remain strong for my son. We said goodbye with Lily crying in the background. It was awful and so wrong.

What is it with the justice system in this country? Why are they given total power to permanently damage and screw up a child’s life? In what century is the judge living that he comes out with something as outdated as “fathers should be the bread-winner and mothers should stay at home and raise their children?”. As it happens, in this case, no consideration was taken into account that Kate hires a Nanny three days a week to care for Lily and Josh and that Lily is at Nursery one day a week. Add on to that the time the children are left with the aunt and uncle. So, where exactly in that equation is the mother caring for her children?? With no right to appeal as this was the second and final hearing, where is the justice in that. That’s not far off child abuse in my book! JUSTICE STINKS!


This is a very honest, open blog which is going to be difficult to write but I need to get it out of my system without involving anyone else in my ‘non-cyber’ world so please bear with me although I know there is a lot to read. Thank you. All names have been changed to protect identities. 

little girl crying (for blog)

(Image sourced from blogspot on Bing)

I was sickened to hear that my son, *Tom* arrived at the nursery to collect my granddaughter, *Lily* (2) and was horrified to see her being put into another couple’s car! He ran to the car, grabbed Lily from the back seat, held her close and was comforting her when suddenly he was attacked by the woman who had attempted the abduction. She kicked him, tore at his skin with her nails, punched him in the face, spat at him and swore loudly, all while Lily was in his arms. She screamed in fear while her daddy tried to defend himself and protect her by putting his arm out to stop the blows. People gathered round them, at first thinking that my son was the abductor so trying to take the child from him. With all the commotion, the nursery teacher came out and saw what was happening and confirmed that Tom was indeed the father and then the police were called. The woman accused him of assault, saying he had struck out at her. However, there were charges of assault and attempted abduction etc made and at least there was evidence and witnesses there.”

The woman who attempted to abduct Lily was, believe it or not, my daughter-in-law’s ‘evil’ aunt, *PL* and I don’t say that lightly or for any other reason other than that she has always and constantly interfered with my son and his wife’s marriage and relationship and is continually insulting Tom and putting him down when in actual fact, he is by far the better parent and both the children are much closer to my son than their mother, Kate, who constantly ignores her daughter and son. PL has also been rude to me on the two occasions I’ve had the ‘pleasure’ of meeting her! She is at Tom and his wife’s house everyday, interfering and trying to take over the care of Lily and my baby grandson, *Josh*. My daughter-in-law, *Kate* is so very dependant on her aunt’s ‘help’ and takes very little responsibility for her children’s care and welfare.

Tom and Kate’s relationship has been gradually breaking down for some time now but PL has made the situation worse. PL is known for her violence as she constantly verbally and physically abuses her husband, *A* who is unfortunately the victim and doesn’t say much to anyone. This happens in front of Lily and Josh too and I, for one, don’t want my little grandchildren to witness this abuse and grow up thinking this is normal and acceptable behaviour. Kate also verbally abuses my son too, regularly referring to him as an idiot or an imbecile and worse and this is also in front on the children but he is able to defend himself without being offensive back.  It is all so very wrong and very damaging to my grandchildren and I feel helpless to not to be able to offer practical help and support, being so very far away.

It’s all so horrible, so nasty and has now involved the police, Social Services, charges and accusations of assault, abuse, abduction etc which are having to be dealt with in court with solicitors etc. Kate has gone to live with her aunt PL and uncle A, where she frequently stayed anyway on the condition that they don’t leave the country; (They have had their passports confiscated). Tom has been given compassionate leave for a month while he fights for custody of our precious Lily and Josh. There was a preliminary court hearing where the judge temporarily awarded care of the children to Kate during the week at her violent aunt and uncle’s home, with Tom having them for the weekends in the family home (where at least they’ll be safe). There will be further hearings at the end of September or the middle of October this year.

I am so shocked and upset by all this and desperately worried about Tom, Lily and Josh as you can imagine. The legal systems in this country stinks!!

God, this was so hard to write! Thank you for your patience and interest if you have read this far, Ellie xxx