Today we ventured out for a few hours of respite from decorating ‘teen daughter’s’ bedroom. It was to be a leisurely wander around a car-boot sale; no smells of paint fumes, no dust around the whole house, just a bit of time to recoup our energies and relax.
How wrong can you be! One minute we were walking along a row of stalls, minding our own business, next minute my stomach is in knots. I feel like I am going to throw up on the spot. I am shaking and tearful.
What happened you ask?
A fight broke out. Not what you expect to see on a Saturday morning boot sale. I think what caught me off my guard more than anything though, was the sound of a woman screaming and going to, getting stuck in with the attacker and then in between the two men who were fighting.
I used to be very accustomed to the feelings this provoked in me – the fear and panic, the utter revulsion, however in the last twenty-seven years or so I have not had to deal with the like. I had put to the back of my mind the effects of seeing my parents trying to physically harm one another. I had lain to rest the sounds of them shouting and screaming.
This morning, it all came roaring back, like a freight train running into my chest. I forgot to breathe for a moment or two. Then I heard the sounds of a child crying and even now, some hours later, I’m not sure if that was a child at the boot sale or the child in my memory. I managed to regain my outward composure and carried on moving, albeit slowly. All I wanted was to make sure that my kids were ok.
I never, ever want them to feel what I felt today. I will move heaven and earth to protect them from the terror that is domestic violence. Most of all, I want to thank my husband who quietly and without question, understood my need to gather our kids close to me for a while.
Tomorrow we’ll try a walk in the woods – should be more peaceful at least!
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