- Beyond Blue Forums
- Caring for myself and others
- Staying well
- My story: I still have dreams
- Subscribe to RSS Feed
- Mark Topic as New
- Mark Topic as Read
- Pin this Topic for Current User
- Follow
- Printer Friendly Page
My story: I still have dreams
- Mark as New
- Follow Post
- Mute
- Subscribe to RSS Feed
- Permalink
- Report Post
Hi everyone,
I am writing this post following a request from a fellow member to know more about me. I do not wish to hi-jack another post so have started this one.
I am fifty years old and the father of five. Divorced twice and in a few other relationships over the years. My friends sometimes joke that I am looking for my next ex.
I am an honest man and try very hard to be a good person, a good partner (when in a relationship) and a good dad. My life is not extraordinary and I am starting to realise how far too many people have far too much trauma in their lives. Is this our evolved society?
I grew up in a housing commission house with my mum and younger sister. Dad left mum when my sister was born and I was a barely a year old. He was never in my life. His bother (we are good wogs!) did his bit to fill the void and to this day he is the closest thing to a dad I have ever know and I love him dearly. My dad died a few years ago but I did not grieve for him. I did not know him. His brother told me of his death and was crying when he told me. I was upset that my uncle was upset but not that my dad had died! Mum was never very mentally stable but did her best. We were poor and mum never did drugs or booze or gambled. I love my mum but as a parent I struggle with her parenting style and we are not close these days.
I was the "man" of the house since I was about fourteen and I guess I just continued that caring role until I ended up taking on the ultimate responsibility - caring for the community. I joined the Police.
My career path started at Darlinghurst, then Redfern, later I was a radio dispatcher and 000 telephonist. I worked at Fairfield when we had the highest murder rate in Australia (late 1980's) and Green Valley, Campbelltown, Campsie, Ashfield and Granville. I was mostly operational and in uniform and working alone. (More common than you might think.) I have been physically threatened with death many times. I have arrested dozens of people at gunpoint, sometimes at the point where I was applying trigger pressure before the offender surrendered. I have talked three people out of suicide.Twice people have died in my arms. I have been assaulted more times than I can even remember. I have seen babies and children suffer in ways many cannot imagine. I have taken statements from victims of sexual assault that have suffered in ways most could not imagine.
After over thirty serious work injuries and a good dose of PTSD, I was pensioned off from my career and a job I was lucky enough to have loved for the time I was in it.
In my personal life my third daughter died of SIDS at the age of eight weeks. It led to the breakdown of my second marriage. As a direct result I do not even see my subsequent daughter as my ex wife cannot stand to have her away from her and has forbidden her from seeing me. It is a form of child abuse and it certainly messes with my head, but at the end of the day my daughter is being denied a loving father because her mother cannot cope with her own issues.
I have always liked the company of ladies but it took me until I was forty two to find "the one". She was and is the love of my life but has her own anxiety issues and after three years of a sort-of-normal relationship I spent a further four clinging to what was a dying relationship in which I think she loved me but could not control her anxiety over other issues. She dumped me last year. I do not think I even knew what true love of woman was until she came along and now I feel I have nothing to give another woman because she still has my heart, even though we are no longer together. My addiction? I guess so.
Anyway, that is my life in a nutshell. I fight every day to battle my depression and I won't give up. I have four other children that love me and need me. I have a new grand daughter who is so beautiful that I still cannot suppress a smile every time I open my mobile phone - she is my screen saver! I may drink a bottle of spirits tonight, or not. I may go to the gym tomorrow, or not. I may have a minute or two of euphoria interspersed with the general depression, or I may not.
I still have dreams. I like to write and have been published. One day I will write that best seller. One day I will live on a hundred acres out of Sydney and feed chickens and muck around in my man shed. There is always someone worse off and I will do my best. Part of my inspiration is this site, and many of you will never know how much strength I draw from your posts, but I thank you one and all. I wish you success, such that it is, in your own lives.
Thanks for reading.
John.
- Mark as New
- Follow Post
- Mute
- Subscribe to RSS Feed
- Permalink
- Report Post
Hi John
Thanks so much for sharing your story with us. You have seen so much in your life as a police officer. It worries me now as my 21 yr old has just applied to join the force.
I really feel for you in not being able to see your daughter because of her mum's issues. They are her issues not yours or your daughters and it's a shame that your daughter is caught in the middle. I really feel for you.
So how do we keep fighting? How do we move forward? These are such hard questions to answer or even start to work out how to go forward.
John, I read so many posts from others and think gee my problem is nothing compared to others, why am i complaining. But childhood sexual abuse is one of the most horrible things to go through. I am trying so hard to get through all this; it's just that at times I feel like throwing it all in and giving up but there are three people that stop me all the time - my children.
I'm sorry John I have taken over again on your post.
Pls take care, thinking of you and hope you find some comfort in knowing that we all care about others on here because we understand.
Jo
- Mark as New
- Follow Post
- Mute
- Subscribe to RSS Feed
- Permalink
- Report Post
Hi Jo,
I need to be quick because I'm taking my boys out and we're leaving the house soon.
Just on the "how do you move on" issue. I heard Ken Marslew (enough is enough, homicide victims support group) talk once on his grief for his murdered son. He told the group how he spent months and years plotting revenge in exquisite detail. It consumed him. Then he said he realised that the only person that was lying awake at night thinking about this was him. Certainly not the offender. He felt he was being held to ransom by the offender so decided to stop thinking about him and his revenge on him.
I don't know if this helps but it made sense to me. I'll write tonight.
Take care.
John.
- Mark as New
- Follow Post
- Mute
- Subscribe to RSS Feed
- Permalink
- Report Post
- Mark as New
- Follow Post
- Mute
- Subscribe to RSS Feed
- Permalink
- Report Post
Dear John (did you know that this was a very good galloper in the '70's, trained by Tommy Smith? I love my horses and racing - no I don't own any, but just love the sport)
Thank you so much for sharing your story with us - and to be honest, I could not imagine what you have had to endure throughout your 30 year work life and then on top of that to lose one of your children through SIDS.
My response could be a bit all over the place, as I'm quite excited to be writing back to you.
You said a couple of things that made me stop and think - holy ... this man has similar attitudes to my own. Your wishing in time to own some land and to have chooks and a few other animals to look after - that is my ultimate dream as well. Ok, perhaps not my ultimate - but it rates right up there.
More parts - you don't mind a drink - giddy up; you don't mind going to the gym - giddy up; and at times, you feel some highlight in your day, you said euphoria - ok, I'm still working on that.
You have a book published. Way to go - may I ask what it had to do with?? Over the past couple of years, I have been working on a manuscript that is a story about my life (so far!) - and at the start of this year, I had a publisher keen to take it on but when they let me know how much it was going to cost, it was really a blow, as there was just no way we could afford it - it was going to cost between $15K-$20K !!! But in a way, it was great to know that someone was keen to take it on, and so thought that there'd be something in my story that might be 'book worthy'. I still haven't given up on this - but depression does make you struggle with doing things.
You know it's just something that I think the general public just wouldn't think about - the shelf life of a policeman AND how a policeman hopes to live after their career. I think an ambulance person would be in a very similar position.
May I ask, how long ago did you finish in the police force? And how that you're finished, how is your mental health going, say compared to when you were still working??
It is great to hear that you've got a great relationship with your children and that you can get to see them - that would be no doubt where you mentioned when you have times of euphoria during your day.
John, I'm so pleased that you've found this site and you, like so many others who have become regular contributors, has just fit into this community so easily.
I think it might be time that I finish this post to you - but I envisage that we'll have many more as the days, weeks, months unfold.
Cheers,
Neil
- Mark as New
- Follow Post
- Mute
- Subscribe to RSS Feed
- Permalink
- Report Post
Hi Jo,
I hope you are okay today. I just wanted to expand on my feelings regarding your post of the other day.
As far as your son applying to join the police force, I can only say that for all the bad stuff, it was a very rewarding job. I loved it just am much when I left as I did when I started. I do think police may have a shelf life, as Neil alluded to, but many don't realise their own shelf life until the damage is done.
Back in the day (I love saying that) there was no real welfare support or counselling. Admitting to struggling with some of the more confronting stuff was the road to career suicide. The solution that was acceptable - drinking. It was not only tolerated, it was encouraged. I quickly learned to go to these "Choir Practice" (see Joseph Wambaugh's "The Choirboys") sessions to drink and seek the reassurance of older colleagues.
In the last ten years or so that culture has basically left the police. Welfare support, such that it is, is available. Seeking help is encouraged. Supervisor's are bound to watch out for the welfare of their police and report incidents to management that they feel may be more traumatic than most. It is not a perfect system but it is better that it was. (Keep in mind that if OH& S laws and the prevalence of law suits did not force the government's hand, nothing would probably have ever changed!)
There is a belief that some people manage trauma better than others and some police never seem to suffer PTSD while others can be badly affected early in their career. I think the advice to try to eat well, exercise regularly and seek help when needed would go a long way for any young officer joining today. Indeed, for any of us!
Thank you for your kind words about my situation with my daughter. I have a strong relationship with my son, her younger brother, as he has always been determined to see me. He spends six days a fortnight with me. That is not to say it isn't without cost for him. He is a "people pleaser" personality and I know he worries that his mum does not approve of him wanting to see me.
I suppose he's never had to carry the burden of being the "subby bubby" and therefore endure the wishes of parents to have the love of two children from the one that is alive. I think my ex wife and I smothered the one that came along after we lost our first (Jessica was our first) out of desperation to mitigate the pain from losing her. After my wife and I split, she was still the golden child and doomed to not have a normal up-bringing. She was allowed to a be a princess and we were unable to deny her anything. No kid should have that much power in any house.
Once she was just with my ex most of the time, in hindsight it seems inevitable that if she was forced to choose between us - which she was - she would choose her mother. This may be usual in many cases, anyway, but it is still wrong.
So, how do we go on? If I knew the answer I would share it and probably be a gazillionaire! How do I go on? That is another question. I have no strong religious beliefs. I think that what we have here and now is it. I do not think there is a heaven or that I will see my daughter there. So what I have left is the other children, and other family, and friends, and now - you. I go the best I can because I do not want to end the life that I have on this Earth. That will happen one day, anyway. I also think that I need to be strong for my kids and now, my grand daughter. Not all the time, just when they need me to be. My children love me, so does my family and so do some of my friends. To me it is the stuff that makes life worth living and helps me see that the bad stuff isn't the only stuff.
Your issues Jo, are just as important and painful to you as anyone elses. You do not need to minimise them or compare them to others. Childhood abuse (in any form) is absolutely horrid. I have seen a lot of it but mercifully am not a victim of it. It is a betrayal of a trust that children are entitled to think is sacred. As a policeman I was able to stifle outward displays of hatred for such people, but as a man I wished the most terrible things on them in gaol. If police and criminals have any common ground, it is their mutual animosity of such behaviour and the prisoners seem to have their own form of justice for these offenders. Still, that is of little comfort to the victims.
You haven't hi-jacked the post. Your request to know more about my story was the catalyst for it. And now it is a post for anyone's story if they want. It is un-hi-jackable! Yep, that's a word now.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Kind regards, John.
- Mark as New
- Follow Post
- Mute
- Subscribe to RSS Feed
- Permalink
- Report Post
Hi John
Thanks for replying back. I am not feeling too great, this damn new psychiatrist is giving me the irritates!! He didn't return my calls all of last week, and when I had a call from the CAT team to make sure I was okay the guy I spoke to was going to phone my psych to tell him what had happened.
So after leaving 4 messages last week my pysch decides to return my call just now. I asked him if he got my messages from last week and he said no!! I then asked him if the CAT team had called him and he said yes, they had told him what had happened and that I thought of going back to hospital.
I told him that I was emotional all last week after my session with him because we spoke about my sexual abuse and what had happened. That set me off into a downward spiral. He said he never brought it up before but wanted to know a bit about the history (why didn't he just ask my regular therapist who I've been seeing for the past 4 yrs).
I said to him that maybe I could bring my husband to a session and if he would help me explain to my husband how i am. Do you know what he said? He said he was not going to tell my husband anything that it is up to me to do that. He said I need to tell my husband. But I told him that I would like his help in trying to explain things and he said no. What kind of a pysch is this guy? Isn't he meant to be helping me.
He then said that he would answer any questions my husband had but basically that was it.And then he says to me - so how can I help you today? By this stage I was pretty angry with him and said - don't worry I will do this on my own, he says well you let me know if you need to come in and see me before next months appointment
I am feeling so alone, abandoned and very angry by his reaction. All I was asking him was to help me explain to my husband and he says no.
I am emotional now, very angry and don't want to talk to anyone anymore. My life seems to consumed with this abuse and parents problems, my depression, anxiety and BPD. i don't know now if I can do this anymore.
I feel so let down by this psych. I am actually seeing my GP tomorrow and I am going to tell him that I don't want to see this guy again.
I don't know what to do anymore, I just feel like hiding away forever, disappearing and never coming back.
I don't know who to trust anymore.
I am sorry for this long rant, not doing very well at the moment
Jo
- Mark as New
- Follow Post
- Mute
- Subscribe to RSS Feed
- Permalink
- Report Post
Thank you for your response to my post and you are very welcome to it. I find writing things down cathartic and the anonymity of the site is nice and safe for all of us.
Your story is quite harrowing and, sadly, common. I have never understood how families can ignore the abuse of their own child. There are plenty of cases of women turning a blind eye to the abuse of their daughter (or sometimes son) by their husband. I understand that many women are themselves abused and may not be able to adequately defend their child and may even believe the police cannot help, but they are not the majority. And don't start me on the church! I do not believe in God but I hope that if “He” exists that he has a special place set aside for such clergy in hell.
Then to be attacked again and hubby being seriously crook, it is amazing, and a tribute to you, that you have come this far. I hope you have had the support of family or friends somewhere. You have here.
Your analogy of depression to diabetes is a good one. Of course, even diabetics sometimes have difficulty controlling their BSL and I suppose that is why people suffering depression have some days where the strategies work and others where they don't. Like you, I am quite the loner and some days don't even get out of pyjama's. When I am out I am always anxious to get home. I force myself to visit friends or go to school plays etc (who doesn't force themselves to do that one, right?) or even just grocery shop. Some days I can't have coffee or cereal because I am out of milk and am not prepared to go to the shops and have to face the crowds.
I am still fighting and, like you, know I can change. Every little success spurs me on. Where do you think you'd like to start? On this site we are all having social interaction, cyber or not, and that is also a start. What would you like to do that seems the least scary to you? It has been very helpful to me to read your post and take something from it. They all help, although I must confess that I am scared I will become caught up in our friend Neil's interest in gallopers!
Please keep posting and take care of yourself. I am keen to hear your views on what might be safe, helpful challenges for you.
Kind regards, John.
- Mark as New
- Follow Post
- Mute
- Subscribe to RSS Feed
- Permalink
- Report Post
I am sadly ignorant of any gallopers, or trotters, or pan lickers. I have never had an interest in racing but know many that do, including an ex girlfriend that had quite a knack for picking winners.
As I mentioned to Mares, you are welcome to my story. Jo was the catalyst for it but I hope it has sprouted a thread that will encourage others to do the same. The property dream will be a reality hopefully by this time next year. I am travelling overseas in a couple of months and when I return the search for the block begins in earnest. Perhaps one day you can join me for a bbq while we solve the world's problems and listen to silly ducks quacking away.
I do love a drink. I hate the gym but I go. The euphoria? Strangely enough it sometimes comes when I haven't been drinking and I have been to the gym. Who'd have thought.......... That said, it is still short lived but any happiness is better than none.
I cannot claim to have a book published. I have been published. I wrote a story for the Australian Police Journal after I lost my daughter, just talking about my reaction and that of my (then) wife and the way the police, ambo's and nurses were so good to us. Somehow a bloke called George McLean read it and asked if he could use it in a book he was writing called "Loss and Grief". (It is online but I think it is against the site rules for me to show a link to it.) I consented and he gave me a copy of the book and wrote a short note saying that while all the stories were important, mine was the one that inspired him to compile them.
I also used to write a lot of factual articles for the Police News (the magazine of the police union in NSW) on industrial issues. I have also written a few fiction stories, not published, and did a bio on some of the characters from an aged care facility over at Little Bay, Sydney. I still like to write.
I hope you find the energy to carry on with your book. As Jairo Alba said, “Everyone has a story behind them, Something or Someone that made them the way they are now. Think about that before you judge someone.” Sage words.
Shelf life. Yes. There are so many professions that I think have a short-ish shelf life. Law enforcement, health care, soldiers at war, maybe counselling. Or maybe we as a society just cannot pick the right people in some cases. Every occupation has it's stalwarts that seem fine doing the hard yards for life. But is there enough of them to fill the need? Also, many of these people provide a better service to the community with experience. Who doesn't want the old Sergeant to sort out their problem rather than the fresh faced probationer? Who wouldn't have the senior mid-wife in the maternity ward over the well intention, but fresh faced, junior nurse?
The problem is that gaining experience means a lot of exposure to the pointy end of things. So is depression amongst such workers a price society pays for having them? Hmmm. Something to discuss at a barbecue!
I did thirty years and am proud of it. For all I've seen and done, I can say that if my kids had ever been watching me at work, they would never have been ashamed at anything I had done. I loved serving the community and even if I had my time over, would probably do it again. Did I imagine how I would cope after it? No. It was the big adventure when I was eighteen. Like my superannuation, I never gave what would happen at the other end a second thought. I am in a much better place now (mentally, emotionally and physically) since I am no longer exposed to that lifestyle. I did my bit, and now my loved ones do not have to compete with the mistress that was policing. I appreciate you asking all these things. As I mentioned to Mares, I find it cathartic.
So how about you, matey, can I have a precis of the Neil story?
Kind regards, John.
- Mark as New
- Follow Post
- Mute
- Subscribe to RSS Feed
- Permalink
- Report Post
Hey John
A precis - ok, here goes.
Born on a farm in the Riverina - youngest of 4 boys.
When I wasn't quite 2yo, I was outside "playing' with the family sheep dog, when I was bitten on the lip. The family found the lip lying next to a table tennis bat, so the dog bit the section of my lip out and just dropped it. The right hand side and upper portion, gawn. I was so lucky that he didn't take my nose. So just a gaping hole left - of course, being under 2yo, I don't remember anything of this - hence why I still LOVE dogs. Perhaps if I was older, I'd fear them. But nope, I love 'em.
Anyway, 10 operations later, each time travelling to Sydney for the operation with my Mum, and having to spend so much time in hospital, and then 6 months later, again we'd mostly train it to Sydney for a check up. So growing up, I really HATED Sydney with a passion, cause all it meant to me was operations and more train travel for check ups - and in those days, they didn't have the wonders where they give you stuff to not make you sick. So each operation, I'd vomit almost as soon as I came to - not the kind of thing you want when trying to preserve the freshly operated area.
Anyway, I was given the choice in 1981 (I was in Year 10) to have one more operation, and as I was at an age where I could decide if I wanted another, I was over it and said "no". Perhaps I should have gone with one more - but 10 operations was a lot and I was sick of it by then.
This is one of my big three issues that no amount of counselling, medications, nor perhaps even beer will ever change for me. My face is different to Joe Bloggs on the street - yes, I've had girlfriends in the past; even been married, but am now in a 20year relationship with my partner - so she obviously sees nothing to worry about and in my manuscript, I have gone into further detail about this, but she says she doesn't even see it. But I see it, every day ... while it's not hideous enough for me to put on a "Phantom" mask, when I see myself in the mirror, I would love to change channels.
John, I'm probably running close to the limit on this one - as you're probably fast gathering, I cannot type a message that is short. I have a penchant for stretching a story out via this method - whereas in real life, well let's put it this way; I'd much rather email someone than talk to them.
So yes, I've got three big issues - I'll give you another one a bit later.
I could have gone and just said:
Dog bit my lip when I was 2yo;
My brother drowned and I was with him and couldn't save him when I was 25yo - he was 29yo - and just writing that still haunts me (that was in 1991) &
My Dad passed away in 2007 and my grieving for him still goes on - I can't seem to get over the fact that he is gone - we had that special a bond.
Cheers my friend,
Neil