I try my hardest to move on. There are lots of days I've succeeded with God's grace as I take in the beauty of life - in my children's smiles, their boundless energy and wide eyed innocence. It feels like golden sunshine on the face, soft whispers of wind in the ear and light rain washing away the sadness.
On some days, certain events that are entirely out of your control, take place to tag you to the past again. No matter how hard you try to walk out of the valley of the shadow, you are disquieted by something dogging your steps. I wish I were like David - "I will fear no evil; for thou are with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."
....................................................................................
Around noon, 29 September 2007. Russell and the kids returned from lunch at IKEA. The father asked the older boy to take a bath before his chess class. The boy steadfastly refused. (Yeah, this boy doesn't take to baths readily). The father got so worked up and scolded the child into crying.
As with a lot of quarrels between us, the ignition point was our different parenting styles. The way the father kept insisting on his way for a minor issue, the way he kept on his tirade until the child broke down - that is why I often had to step in. It is bullying, unadulterated psychological bullying.
When I tried to mediate, the father turned to me with vehemence and told me to stop "fuck-cilitating". See, his clever twisting of words in his area of expertise - expletives. Then he hurled verbal abuses intermingled with lies at me.
"Your mother is a f****** liar", "Your mother is a psychotic b****", "Your mother is mad for believing in God", "Your mother is a w**** who had sex with other men", "Your mother sucks c**** and drinks s****", "Your mother is mad for believing in evil spirits", "Your mother assaulted 5 maids" etc etc etc.
I didn't know it was a woman's place to suffer verbal abuse in silence, so I duly returned him all the compliments. For those wondering, no, I did not say he had a small penis. I said "Your father said he had a small penis." Russell had confided in me many times that he wished his apparatus was bigger. Not a surprise given his addiction to hard core pornography on the internet.
Needless to say, both of us were very very worked up. But instead of taking control of his anger, he stormed into the kitchen and returned with two knives - one in each hand. He stood before me, putting up his hands, ready to stab me. In full view of the children - children whom he claimed to love and protect from any harm. No doubt, psychological harm not included.
What would you do if you were in my shoes then? How would you feel?
Your emotional brain would be gripped with fear. Alarm sirens ringing, This man is mad, truly mad! Extremely dangerous! Out of a sense of morality, it would also feel very angry. He is relying on threats of violence to get the upper hand again!
Your rational mind would recognise that he had just transposed his bullying from the son to you. Stop that you big, big bully! Look at yourself, that's no honour for a man to attack the weak! And your rational mind would race to find a solution - something to remove the immediate threat of the moment and to let him know that you refused to be bullied.
Haven't you watched any drama serials in which the victims use reverse psychology?
That was what leapt to my mind. So I looked at him in the eye and told him to do it if he had balls. That might not be the best way, but I keenly felt that if I had shown as much as an iota of fear, he would really strike me.
It worked. He didn't. He stared menacingly at me for a few seconds and walked back to the kitchen. There, he paused and turned back to rush at me again. I repeated. This is the working strategy with bullies - you just have to squelch your fear and stand firm. You confront the threat to your life squarely in the face. You look at evil in the eye and know xie bu sheng zheng.
You will see later that in absence of this method, the bully strikes "back". Yea, literally in the back the next day.
When Russell retreated to the kitchen the second time, both boys were terrified and crying badly. The older boy wanted me to send him to chess class (to get away from the horrifying scene) and Russell insisted on coming along. I did not want him to, neither did the boy. Russell, in an effort to "soften" his image with the traumatized kids, gave me a bear hug and said to the boys he was sorry for what he did.
As Russell was driving us to the chess class, I was shaking badly inside. I couldn't think much beyond this. I knew if I were to make a police report then, Russell would deny it. He would twist words and distort facts. It would then be his words versus my words. Either way, I would end up going back to the same home after making the report. I didn't think I would survive the night then.
So I told Russell that I would not make the police report if he would promise to visit a psychiatrist the following week. My plan was for him to admit to the psychiatrist first, before making the report. And I thought that was a clever entrapment. But little did I know that my "cleverness" was no match for his cruelty that was to cut swiftly the next day.
In the evening, Russell appeared contrite and even did the dishes for the family. Something like he had done twenty times throughout the marriage. (Now, why am I getting goosepimples with the word "marriage"?) The older boy and I wanted to go to IKEA, and he insisted on coming.
While there, he told me that he was very concerned about the kind of image his children had of him as a father. I thought that was very disturbing as he did not seem to realize that he had committed family violence. His focus was on how he would appear as a father to the children!!! Hey, hey "Even a child is known by his deeds, whether his work be pure, and whether it be right." Proverbs 20:11
You will see later, how Russell twisted this around to sing a different tune: that he was concerned about the effects of my words on his "suicidal" child. Please, with all due respect, this does not make sense. Would a person who was so concerned about the effects of words on a suicidal child, actually said those provocative things to the mother of the child and then tried to kill TWICE in front of his very eyes?
Like so many red flags during marriage, I thought he was really, really dangerous. This man either had no moral compass, or was plain mad. I played along and decided not to point out the real issue there. Had I confronted the real problem, ie his violent character, and moved out of the house that night (as I had sought refuge at my parents' so many times in the past), things would be very different now.
But the truly amazing feat was the wool he pulled in the end. He was able to white wash the event to support his mitigation pleas, instead of getting punished for this abominably violent act, pre-stabbing.
P.S. C.S. Thanks for the chat over the phone. You're so right, I need to stay focused on the positive things in my life. Your pragmatism helped to "box" off the unwarranted emotional turmoils. Love.
www.apill4life.blogspot.com
On some days, certain events that are entirely out of your control, take place to tag you to the past again. No matter how hard you try to walk out of the valley of the shadow, you are disquieted by something dogging your steps. I wish I were like David - "I will fear no evil; for thou are with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."
....................................................................................
Around noon, 29 September 2007. Russell and the kids returned from lunch at IKEA. The father asked the older boy to take a bath before his chess class. The boy steadfastly refused. (Yeah, this boy doesn't take to baths readily). The father got so worked up and scolded the child into crying.
As with a lot of quarrels between us, the ignition point was our different parenting styles. The way the father kept insisting on his way for a minor issue, the way he kept on his tirade until the child broke down - that is why I often had to step in. It is bullying, unadulterated psychological bullying.
When I tried to mediate, the father turned to me with vehemence and told me to stop "fuck-cilitating". See, his clever twisting of words in his area of expertise - expletives. Then he hurled verbal abuses intermingled with lies at me.
"Your mother is a f****** liar", "Your mother is a psychotic b****", "Your mother is mad for believing in God", "Your mother is a w**** who had sex with other men", "Your mother sucks c**** and drinks s****", "Your mother is mad for believing in evil spirits", "Your mother assaulted 5 maids" etc etc etc.
I didn't know it was a woman's place to suffer verbal abuse in silence, so I duly returned him all the compliments. For those wondering, no, I did not say he had a small penis. I said "Your father said he had a small penis." Russell had confided in me many times that he wished his apparatus was bigger. Not a surprise given his addiction to hard core pornography on the internet.
Needless to say, both of us were very very worked up. But instead of taking control of his anger, he stormed into the kitchen and returned with two knives - one in each hand. He stood before me, putting up his hands, ready to stab me. In full view of the children - children whom he claimed to love and protect from any harm. No doubt, psychological harm not included.
What would you do if you were in my shoes then? How would you feel?
Your emotional brain would be gripped with fear. Alarm sirens ringing, This man is mad, truly mad! Extremely dangerous! Out of a sense of morality, it would also feel very angry. He is relying on threats of violence to get the upper hand again!
Your rational mind would recognise that he had just transposed his bullying from the son to you. Stop that you big, big bully! Look at yourself, that's no honour for a man to attack the weak! And your rational mind would race to find a solution - something to remove the immediate threat of the moment and to let him know that you refused to be bullied.
Haven't you watched any drama serials in which the victims use reverse psychology?
That was what leapt to my mind. So I looked at him in the eye and told him to do it if he had balls. That might not be the best way, but I keenly felt that if I had shown as much as an iota of fear, he would really strike me.
It worked. He didn't. He stared menacingly at me for a few seconds and walked back to the kitchen. There, he paused and turned back to rush at me again. I repeated. This is the working strategy with bullies - you just have to squelch your fear and stand firm. You confront the threat to your life squarely in the face. You look at evil in the eye and know xie bu sheng zheng.
You will see later that in absence of this method, the bully strikes "back". Yea, literally in the back the next day.
When Russell retreated to the kitchen the second time, both boys were terrified and crying badly. The older boy wanted me to send him to chess class (to get away from the horrifying scene) and Russell insisted on coming along. I did not want him to, neither did the boy. Russell, in an effort to "soften" his image with the traumatized kids, gave me a bear hug and said to the boys he was sorry for what he did.
As Russell was driving us to the chess class, I was shaking badly inside. I couldn't think much beyond this. I knew if I were to make a police report then, Russell would deny it. He would twist words and distort facts. It would then be his words versus my words. Either way, I would end up going back to the same home after making the report. I didn't think I would survive the night then.
So I told Russell that I would not make the police report if he would promise to visit a psychiatrist the following week. My plan was for him to admit to the psychiatrist first, before making the report. And I thought that was a clever entrapment. But little did I know that my "cleverness" was no match for his cruelty that was to cut swiftly the next day.
In the evening, Russell appeared contrite and even did the dishes for the family. Something like he had done twenty times throughout the marriage. (Now, why am I getting goosepimples with the word "marriage"?) The older boy and I wanted to go to IKEA, and he insisted on coming.
While there, he told me that he was very concerned about the kind of image his children had of him as a father. I thought that was very disturbing as he did not seem to realize that he had committed family violence. His focus was on how he would appear as a father to the children!!! Hey, hey "Even a child is known by his deeds, whether his work be pure, and whether it be right." Proverbs 20:11
You will see later, how Russell twisted this around to sing a different tune: that he was concerned about the effects of my words on his "suicidal" child. Please, with all due respect, this does not make sense. Would a person who was so concerned about the effects of words on a suicidal child, actually said those provocative things to the mother of the child and then tried to kill TWICE in front of his very eyes?
Like so many red flags during marriage, I thought he was really, really dangerous. This man either had no moral compass, or was plain mad. I played along and decided not to point out the real issue there. Had I confronted the real problem, ie his violent character, and moved out of the house that night (as I had sought refuge at my parents' so many times in the past), things would be very different now.
But the truly amazing feat was the wool he pulled in the end. He was able to white wash the event to support his mitigation pleas, instead of getting punished for this abominably violent act, pre-stabbing.
P.S. C.S. Thanks for the chat over the phone. You're so right, I need to stay focused on the positive things in my life. Your pragmatism helped to "box" off the unwarranted emotional turmoils. Love.
www.apill4life.blogspot.com
