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The Broken Window

It’s been a long time since the last post. I seemed to have had extra hassle from my ex the past few months. What is so apparent is how much it extinguishes creativity. It's like he takes up so much head space and I have nothing left to give, including blog posts!

This is yet another factor to consider - the shrapnel, the ripples. Even though I left in the summer of 21, I am dealing with someone who doesn’t reply to solicitor's letters, so I can’t get divorced promptly. He lives in our jointly owned house, and rattles around while I share a room with my littlest. Sharing a room does not disturb my inner peace. I have that peace, but the inconveniences caused by him can be hard to shelve. He doesn’t want to submit his financial disclosure so now things will have to go to court. He doesn’t want to reply as to whether I will be able to access my own house to move my Aga which I got from my Mum's inheritance.


Did I mention I broke a window some months back at the family house? It was moving day, 9 months after we left and we finally had the keys to our house and I had a moving van booked. He wouldn’t let me have access to our house and he had the locks changed. So many messages requesting access were ignored . I had a list of my things we needed like beds, mattresses and oversized things. Half were left out, but not the children’s mattresses and other things that were mine. It feels like he has to retain some control at all times. I knew legally I could gain access to my house by any means. I didn’t want to break in, but I wanted my things, I wanted the children to have their things. I spoke to my in-laws and my father in law came and unlocked the door, then locked it behind him and brought down the mattresses. It felt an injustice to be locked out of my house. I asked for my white large mirror. He replied that he was told just the mattresses. I wanted some fairness, I wanted the control over me to stop. I had a screw driver with me. I started to hit the corner of the back window. Interestingly it didn’t even make a dent. So I picked up a big heavy iron bar, and started to really hit the window with force. The noise was so loud it echoed over the street. Someone came over and said, ‘Oh, I thought someone was breaking in’ ..well- that was accurate. It began to feel very cleansing, and the pane of glass gave way. I hadn’t really considered double glazing meant two panes of glass. The next gave way quicker. The glass had fragmented EVERYWHERE. I cleared the pane above, threw some carpet over the base sill and climbed in. This time I took everything that was mine. It felt so nice to have my cutlery back, my pans, everything that I had worked for in my previous life. I even took my acer tree that I had nursed from a sapling that had grown so well.


Following that, I messaged him that the house was unsecured. Following that the police, who had no time to accompany me to our house to enforce my rights, spent over an hour visiting my husband after he had phoned and reported me. I could see when the police spoke to me, my husband had done a wonderful job. I can see why - he is charismatic, professional and the police (man) was completely taken in. I was given a patronising lecture on how ‘we all had to be reasonable’ by the police. The ignorance made me very annoyed, the two hours plus of police time wasted on something that was legal - to access my own property.


This is partly why we had to stay in a refuge for so long. I asked him if he could rent a flat so we could move back as at that time the demand was so high for rentals, and a one bed flat would have been far easier to obtain. I was panicky that we would never get rehoused. My life was being spent on this ridiculous 3hr school run, I couldn’t easily find work juggling. He said no. When he asked how the children were I said they were tired. I didn’t want them to have to move schools and the commute was now 2/3 hours a day as they are at 3 different schools. He told me I should have thought of that before I had this grand plan. I could have obtained a court order, but then, he would have had house keys and I couldn’t really afford the mortgage payments. I could have changed the locks, but again he could have gained access. Besides, the house had bad memories. There were places everywhere in the house that things had happened, lots of memories.


I don’t like to be self indulgent and pour all this out. I think it’s important to understand the full picture of leaving an abuser, and everything that comes with it. However I have the clarity of mind now I have left to be able to work through the legal process to get what is mine. I have the most lovely friends and family in my life who offer so much support. For such a long time, I thought he was so so bubbly, so confident that I didn’t really like social events as I would stand out as the dull one. I remember when his best friend came round to help with some building he didn't want me to bring any drinks out, 'you stay inside' he'd joke. It felt hurtful that he didn't want me to come outside and chat. All these subtle things that make you feel like you are social awkward. Comments when we were together after I had talked that it had made everyone really unrelaxed when I had said such a thing. I was convinced people would wonder why he would want to be with someone like me. It was a complete revelation that often people didn’t view him as such. They weren’t the comments that came forth.


I can’t wait to tell you more about the early days of refuge..... I’ll get back to it in the next post. It was such a life changing time.


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