manah manah
• Tuesday 22 August 2006 - Warning, Depression and Insecurity Ahead
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Feeling kind of 'blah'.
I just got home from court... you know... that case I've made mention of before. I've been sitting around all day... waiting... waiting... waiting.
"Make sure your there by a quarter to 9," they'd told me. I turned up and found out that they'd installed a metal detector since the last time I was there. "Ooh, this is new," I said to the security guy. "Been a while since you've been here?" he asked... with that tone that said, "Oh, so you're a repeat offender, are you?" I put my bag up on the bench and walked through the gate. Then he asked me to open my bag. I had two pairs of scissors in there that he confiscated until I left. "Don't use them for paper," I tried to joke. "They're my hair-cutting scissors." He gave me a half-smile and I walked away, feeling kind of like a criminal.
When I got upstairs I was taken into an office and had the basic procedure explained to me. "I'll ask you questions that pertain to your statement," the prosecutor said. "Then the defence will get to cross-examine you. I doubt he'll ask you too much. Etc etc, blah blah." He also told me that my ex wasn't making his statement until tomorrow. Apparently he couldn't make room in his busy schedule today. The whole meeting lasted about 15 minutes.
"We'll be starting at 10. You can have a wander around, but make sure you're back here by then." I went down the road to buy a drink, downed a couple of quick smokes and returned.
"He's already gone down there, wait outside the courtroom and they'll call you. It shouldn't be too long," the receptionist told me. I found the right courtroom, sat down and waited. A couple of times I got up and paced a bit. At 10.30ish the door opened and several people came out, including the rock spider and his lawyers. I took a long look at him as he walked past. He didn't look at me. The prosecutor followed them out.
"We're having a short break," he told me. "You can wander around a bit (I think he likes that turn of phrase), but be back here by... oh... around quarter past 11". I didn't want to go too far, but I had to move the car (2 hr parking limits). I picked up my scissors and took them back to the car and left them there. I had to drive up and down the street a couple of times until I found another park. I decided to take my camera with me this time. I snapped off some photos of buildings, birds and flowers (all the time chain-smoking in an attempt to stock up on my nicotine levels) on the way back to the courthouse.
Back through the door, back through the metal detector... and it beeped. I'd forgotten to take my sunnies off. Feeling silly, and even more like a criminal, I had another go. All good this time. Gathered my stuff and started up the stairs. Stopped on the first floor for a quick rest stop, then decided to take the elevator up to the second floor.
Ding... the doors opened. The rock spider was inside with his lawyer. He started out of the door, not realising that it'd stopped on the first floor. When he looked up and saw me he visibly jumped. I was glad that I'd thrown him off. "Nah, it's ok," I said. "I'll wait for the next one. I don't like the smell in there." I watched him squirm as he waited for the doors to close.
Took the next lift up the one floor and sat in the waiting area again. Paced a bit... sat a bit... took some photos of the carpet, the chairs, out the window... none of them turned out too well, I don't think. Haven't looked at them properly yet. Paced a bit more... sat again... and paced again.
Around 1 the doors opened again. This time just the rock spider. He made a quick dash past me, avoiding looking at me. Then a few minutes later, the prosecutor came out. "We're breaking for lunch," he said. (You guessed it...) "You can have a wander around a bit if you like, but make sure you're back here by 2.30.
Well, what am I going to do now, I wondered. I didn't want to hang around for an hour and a half. I decided to go and have coffee with a good friend that I hadn't been to see in a while. I don't visit much any more. I prefer to stay at home when I can... safer and more comfortable. The only time I do go out I'm usually with Gryph... again safe and comfortable. So off I went. It was by far the nicest part of the day. We sat for nearly an hour and chatted, each of us catching up on stuff that had happened since the last time we'd seen each other. I showed her our blogs too... there's not too many 'real' people who know about them... you know what I mean, don't you? Anyway, all too soon I had to head back to the courthouse again.
Found a park, left the camera in the car again (and the scissors) and went back in. Back through the metal detector... etc, etc. I was sitting and waiting, and in walked the police guy who originally took our statements. "You still waiting?" he asked. "I thought you would have been out of here by now." After that I started to get butterflies. It was almost like he was telling me that something had gone wrong. Before that statement I was just annoyed that they'd got me in so early just to have me sitting around and waiting. After... well, I just couldn't get it out of my head that something wasn't right. I dunno... maybe the stress...
Eventually they called me in. I promised to tell the truth and all of that, and sat down. The prosecutor asked me all of his questions... nothing I didn't expect. I answered them and I think I did ok. Then the defence lawyer cross-examined me. Everything was going alright until he asked me about the 'romantic connections' between the rock spider and I. I was livid. What romantic connections? "Isn't it true that on that day he rang you to ask you to go out for a few drinks with him?" he asked. "No, I don't remember that," I replied. "Oh, so you mean to tell me that you don't remember the defendant asking you to go out with him for drinks?" It was about then that I started shaking. I'm a shaker... when I get pissed off, or really stressed out I shake... like shivering. I wished I could stop it, but I was annoyed at this questioning... and the shaking was annoying me even more. "No, I mean that he didn't ask me out," I answered. "I knew that he was interested, and I definitely wasn't interested in him... so I think I would remember if he'd asked me out." "Oh," he said theatrically. He shuffled his paperwork... whispered to his colleague... shuffled a bit more. Eventually he looked up at the judge and said "No more questions, your honour."
What the hell was that? I imagine that was his defence... "Oh, I asked her to go out with me but the kid didn't like the idea so she made up all these lies." Is that it? I felt like screaming. What about the other two kids? What about the other two court cases that are pending? Did they both lie too? But I had already been warned that I couldn't mention anything about them. Why not? It goes towards his character, I would think. How can the jury make an informed decision if they don't know that he's been accused of the same thing by three seperate little girls? Three seperate little girls who didn't even know each other. How fair is that? What happens if he and his lawyers manage to convince the jury that he was the unfortunate victim of an evil, lying little kid? What if he manages to convince three seperate juries? None of them can know about any of the other cases. It's the law. How fair is that?
I left the courtroom... left the courthouse as quickly as I could. I had to sit in the car for a minute or two. I was still shaking. I felt unworthy. I felt like I let her down. I felt like crying. I felt like running away. But I started the car and drove home.
I can't help thinking that I didn't do enough. I can't help wondering if what I've said has helped or hindered this case. I keep wondering what'll happen to him. And how is my baby going to handle it if they believe that she's lying? I can't wait until the case is finished, but I dread it just the same. I just can't stop thinking about it. My stomach's still in knots.
Like I said... I feel 'blah'.
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• Tuesday 22 August 2006 - Don't know what to say
Posted by Lourob
I know your are a fiesty woman and I know you can pull through all this ..I expected to read something about your landlord..you do go through life in an unexpected way..I really do hope this all turns out well..not sure how that will show itself but keep on the lookout.
Kind Regards
Lourob
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• Saturday 15 July 2006 - God, I'm getting depressive lately
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Well, that's it... we're giving up. We're losing the battle to stay in our home. We've taken our case to the RTA and in doing so we managed to get a bit of a reprieve, but the end is rapidly nearing. We were too trusting to have covered our asses sufficiently... and so it works out that we don't really have a leg to stand on. We can take it further to the Small Claims Court, but the thing is that it's not going to help us in the long run. We won't be able to stay here because all he has to do is sell the place and we have to go.
That, by the way is what he wanted to do all along, so that's not going to worry him one iota. Not that he told us that in the beginning, in fact he flat out lied to us and let us believe that while he wanted to divide the property up and sell some of it, he definitely wanted to keep the house. That's something we've found out since... from potential buyers... from the neighbours... then he finally admitted it himself when we confronted him and asked him why so many people would tell us so. He used us to get what he wanted done to improve his property and raise the value... without having the inconvenience of having to pay for it himself. But, so I've heard from more than one source, that's just the way he is... doesn't like to reach into his pocket... he's the ideas man, and as such someone else should always be expected to come up with the dosh. So, let me tell you how he did it.....
He wanted to sell, right... but he looked at his house... and at all the things that were wrong with it. He looked at the broken toilet drains, the broken fan switches and light switches... He looked at the water pump that didn't work and didn't pump clean water into the house. He looked at the piles of rubbish around the property, the mess that he called his gardens... He looked at the great big yard that was drastically overgrown and needed mowing, the fences that were falling down all over the place... and he added up the cost of employing someone to fix it all. Then he decided that he didn't feel like paying for all of that. So he advertised the house for rent.
Then he pretended that he was some kind of country gentleman who preferred to meet his tenant face-to-face and decide if they were good people, rather than do everything through legal avenues. He found someone who really liked his place and would be willing to do a bit extra around the place for the chance to move in. Then he fucked them around for a month or so, just to make sure that they were too stupid to put their foot down and demand what was fair. Finally, after they'd been fucked around and lost most of their savings in temporary living expenses, he agreed to sign the lease, took their 4 weeks in bond and another 8 weeks rent, and gave them a solid date that they could move in.
Then he let them move into the house without mentioning anything about the mess that would be left for them to clean up. When those people finally turned up with a truck-load of furniture to find a house that hadn't been cleaned, a yard that hadn't been maintained, multiple piles of rubbish to clean up, exposed wiring and broken doors that should have been fixed but hadn't, that they had to cart clean water from the tank into the house because of broken pipes, the water that they had to bathe in was disgusting, and a toilet that leaked effluent into the house... well, by then it would have been too late for those people to complain. By then the people who really wanted the house had given the last of their savings to him, had no place else to go, and had no choice but to maintain his house in order to provide themselves somewhere decent to live.
And if they wanted to complain? Well then, just let them complain, and he would just keep putting them off until such time that they'd used up all the rent that they'd paid up front. He'd promise them that he was organising someone to fix stuff, then do nothing until such time that they got sick of complaining and do it themselves. After all, what could they really do about it? Even if they complained to the RTA, he didn't have to actually DO anything. And what could the RTA do? They couldn't make him spend money on his house... all they could do was make it legal for the tenants to leave before the lease was up. And what lease, anyway? He 'forgot' to tell the tenants that he's decided to leave the lease open-ended, and then 'forgot' to point it out when it came
to signing. And who cares if the RTA becomes involved, because all he really wanted to do was sell his place anyway... he didn't really want tenants in the house. All he wanted was to fix his house up... get his yards cleaned... get the piles of rubbish disposed of... have a caretaker to watch out for his cattle and tell him when his fences were falling down... and have some idiot pay him for the privilege.
And if they're stupid enough to stop the rental payments in an attempt to claim back some of the time and money that they'd spent on the place? That'd be good, actually... because it makes them look like a bunch of no-hopers who have tried to rip him off. Takes the heat off of him. Then he can have them kicked out on a week's notice, instead of the legal four weeks he would have had to give them if he'd done it legally. So, it might even work in his favour for him to verbally suggest to the tenants that they shouldn't worry about that rent... that as long as there's some going into the bank every now and then to make it look good he'd turn a blind eye. But don't give them anything in writing to say that... oh no... that would be stupid. Just fall back on that country honesty and integrity.
But then if they really start to get pissed off, or try to get what they're rightfully entitled to... fuck them over, and make sure you do it big time. After all, we're talking about a tidy sum here. A shitload of his money that he can now keep in his own pocket instead of giving it to the workers he would have had to employ to fix his house. Plus he'd get the bonus of someone else's savings as well. Think about it... what a bargain! Who cares about the country honesty that he was advocating? Who cares about integrity? Who cares about what's right or wrong? And who cares about the poor schlubs who spent all their money, gave him hours upon hours of free maintenance and have nowhere else to go? The almighty dollar wins the day again.
There's nothing else we can do but start the packing process all over again. It's become too stressful to fight any more. G's outside going through his tools and stuff... and that's something I think I'll just leave him to... unless he asks me for my help. There are things and memories out there that he's going to lose because of this fat old arsehole... not to mention the stuff inside the house. We're going to have to have a garage sale to pay for the move. And in doing that we're going to lose even more because of him... stuff that can't be re-bought... memories that can't be replaced. And I have no idea as to where we're going to go as yet... houses in the country are hard to find... and even if we wanted to move back to the city, houses there are too expensive.
I'm getting that familiar feeling that I try to fight... the feeling to just pick up my skirts and start running away from all the hard stuff. I think at least some of you would understand that feeling. We've even thought about selling everything up, buying a bus and just driving... follow the fruit-picking season or go take beautiful photos that we can sell to glossy magazines, or something. But to be realistic, we can't really do that. We have family to consider... kids that we share custody of with our exes... who wouldn't like the idea. We can't take them away from their other parents, and we couldn't possibly just leave them behind......
I guess I'm just putting it off for as long as I can, but I have to get into it soon too. I just thought I'd let you all know that my posts might be a bit erratic from now on. We're going to be as busy as blue-arsed flies for a while. Then... if we can't find somewhere else to go... we might not even have the internet connection. If that happens... again... we'll try to find an internet cafe every now and then to say hi, I guess. We've made too many friends here not to.
Well, I suppose I should get going.... Got to start sometime.
Take care of you.
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• Saturday 15 July 2006 - Untitled Comment
Posted by Rinny
I'm really sorry, Tinacee. I don't know quite what else to say. I hope you are able to keep in touch. I also hope that karma shits all over this bastard you're talking about. (Sorry, but who needs eloquence in times such as these?) I'm thinking of you and your family.
Big Hug,
Rinny.
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• Friday 14 July 2006 - Crystal
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She had the sweetest nature... she was cheeky, loyal, funny, gentle and shy. She certainly didn't deserve to die like she did.
She was a big sook too. I remember when she was a puppy I heard her cry one day... she was yelping like something was trying to eat her. I raced outside expecting the worst, only to find that Jack was sitting on her foot. Poor baby. 
I made a small slideshow in memory of our Crystal. If you want to watch it you'll have to download it and unzip it
... but it'll make you cry.
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• Wednesday 12 July 2006 - A big whinge... don't read it if you don't want my negative energy to drag you down... I don't care.
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Whinge no. 1...
I woke up with the alarm this morning at 4, turned it off and went back to sleep. No major dramas, I don't have to work early so that shouldn't be a big deal, right? But no. My better half has to get up early to go to work, and I like to get up and have a coffee with him before he goes... make his face the first I see for the day... his voice the first I hear... kiss him good-bye and tell him "I love you, have a good day". You know what I mean, don't you? We shouldn't stay up so late at night, I guess... but sometimes we get carried away with just spending time together... talking about our day, whinging about the bad things, laughing about the good, checking out the news and our other favourite things on the internet together... just basically taking the moment to enjoy each other's company, etc. So anyway, I always disappoint myself when I do the sleeping in thing.
Whinge No. 2...
I picked up my phone and realised that while I was sleeping I'd missed a text message from my partner. I opened the message up and found 3 words... "Syd Barrett died". My heart sunk. Now I didn't know him personally, of course... but we're both huge Pink Floyd fans. So that's a really sad thing... for both of us. Now, a bit of background... Syd was the original singer for 'The Floyd'... and the original driving force behind the band. They probably would never have attained the fame they did if it weren't for his influence. He's the one who shaped the music into that weird stoner-type odd soundscape sort of music... he's the one who had the vision, you know? However, most people don't know who he is because he only survived one album. After that he 'went crazy' and was dropped from the band. Maybe it was bought on by drug use, maybe it was the fame, or the tension... who knows really? But he had a schitzophrenic nature, and in the end it just went bang. He dropped out of society for a long time, the band went on to great heights and people forgot him. We had a bit of a soft spot for him though, especially my partner (my kids bought him a DVD titled 'Pink Floyd and the Syd Barrett Story' just last Christmas). We've both felt that life is about to overwhelm us at some stage, so I guess we could relate to him and his circumstance. Now, when I read that message I felt a tear or two threatening, but I know that my partner will be feeling like shit, and I can't hug him 'cause he's at work... and I slept in this morning, so I didn't even hug him then. Life sucks sometimes.
Whinge No. 3...
As a result of getting up early I'm usually able to make sure that my daughter gets up early enough to get ready for school. See, she catches the bus at 7:15 as she has an hour-long trip to get there. Normally she sets her alarm to get up on time, and I usually just let her sleep for a bit longer then go in to get her out of bed. But no, not this morning... 'cause I slept in. Instead, she woke me up at 6:53, her eyes still bleary, her hair still all over her head. We raced around a bit, and she did really well to get ready... and I really thought that we'd have a chance to catch the bus. And we almost did. We'd just come around the corner... were on the last straight when we saw it stop at the corner down the road. The other kids filed on, and I thought the driver would have seen us coming and waited for another few seconds... but no, their timetable must be too tight to do that (that was sarcasm). I was going to chase the bus down the road to the next stop, but I looked down to see that the fuel guage was under empty. I was in my eldest daughter's car, which can be a bit temperamental when it comes to low fuel. Neither of us relished the thought of walking if it ran out (and I'd been in such a hurry that I'd forgotten to put shoes on), so we decided not to. Now, I know that she was disappointed, but she didn't whinge about it, the lovely. Oh, and now I can hear a few of you say "Sure, what kid gets disappointed that they have to have a day off from school?" But she does. She has some great friends and she misses them when she doesn't see them.... it's a social thing, I guess. It probably seems silly or insignificant to most people, but it's important to her... she has a life other than just the one with us. It's hard for me to accept that sometimes, but considering how long it took her to start trusting people again, it's also wonderful. I always feel bad when this happens... especially when I know it's my fault.
Whinge No. 4...
My youngest daughter asked me to open her cupboard so that she could get to her clothes... It has sliding doors, you know, the ones with the big mirrored doors that run on tracks. Now, the doors don't work properly... they always jump off the tracks and get stuck. They scare me... well, I get worried about them falling and hurting one of the kids. So I've made a rule that they don't touch them... if they need to get into the cupboard they call me and I open it for them. I'd leave the bastards off completely if I had somewhere to put them out of the way... but we don't. Apart from leaning them up against a wall somewhere, and then that would just lead to a whole new range of problems anyway. So there I was, trying to open this bloody cupboard door up, and it jumped off the tracks again... and landed on my toe. I don't think anything's broken, but shit it hurt. My daughter asked me if I was Ok, and I yelled at her... she knows I was in pain, and took the abuse on the chin... but it wasn't her fault, so now I feel even more like shit.
So then I was sitting here reading a few blogs, as I tend to do in the morning while having my morning coffee (or coffees, as it's turned out to be). And some of the pointless, silly things that people are trying to shove down everyone else's throats were just shitting me even more. I wasn't going to say anything... was just going to find something benign and happy joy joy to say so that I wouldn't offend anyone... but fuck it. I've already had a great day, so far... so what the hell!
Whinge No. 5...
I'm reading about the latest bunch of rants... and usually I have nothing against rants. We all do it, even me. We all have our own thoughts and opinions that we think are more important than everyone else's... things that we're compelled to push onto everyone else so that we can feel superior. Usually I can read other people's ideas and pass on it if I don't agree with what someone has to say. Usually I can justify it as being their right to think and say what they want... but this morning the narkiness is just getting to me. Who cares? What difference does it make if someone wants to believe in God and Jesus? And so what if someone else doesn't? What difference is it going to make to me? None. I'll still go on living the way I want to anyway. So will everyone else. And racism... what difference should that make to me... fuck it, I'm not black so I don't get discriminated against. So what the hell does that matter? And who cares anyway? Is the world going to stop turning just because of it? And what about the crappy service you get from certain department stores... what's the big deal about that? We all know that businesses are in it for the money. Most of them don't give a flying fart for their customers as long as the money keeps coming in. We all know that. And our power supply... who really cares where it comes from as long as we have it, right? It's all too hard to make a change... and who cares anyway? We can turn a light switch on... it's working right now, isn't it? And the state of the environment... well, there's not much we can do about that, so why not just keep on the way we're going now. It'll give us something else to whinge about in another 10 or 20 years when everything's all fucked up for good. Why worry about it now? With any luck we might not even be here by then anyway. And if I'm going to be dead when it happens, what difference should it make to me now? Oh, and what about the government... let's not forget them. Not that our thoughts on that matter are going to make any difference in the end. Oh, we might be able to get rid of one evil, but the next is just waiting around the corner, isn't it? But why bother stressing about it? Who cares? It's all too hard, so let's just sit back and let someone else do the hard yards and be hated for it. I don't care. What difference does it make anyway? As long as we can sit at home and whinge about the state of everything, who cares what they do?
But from what I can see, there is one thing that all these arguments have in common. Everyone is trying to put their arguments forward for the rest of the world to see... and that's fair enough for them to be able to expect, I guess... but at the same time, everyone is getting all pissed off when someone else dares to disagree with them. But then (and this is the bit that I'm struggling with today) everyone is advocating tolerance in their own way... and complaining that no-one else has any. So, it seems to me that some people think that tolerance is only something that other people should afford them... something that is there only to serve their own purposes. "You should have tolerance for what I say, but fuck you if you don't agree with me". So much for tolerance, huh? So much for everyone else's right to think what they want think about what's important to them... to believe in what they want to believe in. So much for 'live and let live'... so much for 'each to their own'... so much for 'turn the other cheek'... so much for 'it's a free country'... so much for 'let's agree to disagree on this one'. Yes, I believe in tolerance... and yes, I think that some people are just using the word to get what they want... and yes, I wish that everyone else would stop and think about my opinions... but no, I don't think my opinion is the only one... and no, I don't want to argue about it... and no, I don't even really care about trying to see other's opinions, because I know what's important to me and that's all I do care about... and no, I don't think that now that I've had my say everyone else will agree with me. I actually expect some people to get upset about what I've had to say... or try to justify their points of view, or something. But I've had my say, and maybe I am being hypocritical... Besides, I'm in a rotten mood anyway... so who cares?
And so why is all this shit upsetting me so much? Because this morning all the important things in my life have jumped out and said "Who gives a shit about all that crap?" I missed out on doing bland, everyday things that make me feel good within myself... someone I don't know, but have had some respect for has died... I can't comfort someone who could probably do with some... I've disappointed some of the most important people in my life... the damned bus driver couldn't be bothered waiting for 30 seconds... my toe is still hurting like all bloody hell... I've made someone I love feel bad for something that wasn't their fault... and my mood has gone to shit. And I know that those things mean nothing to most of the other people in the world, but they mean the world to me. They've helped me to wake up to (at least some of) the things that are really important in my life.
So now that I've had my big whinges, I'm going to go and try to make some of that up to the people around me. I'm going to forget about everyone who just wants to argue, then put someone else down because they don't agree with them. I'm going to stop thinking about how I wish everyone could get along with each other. I'm going to stop dwelling on things that are too hard... or just silly. Right now I'm going to go and actually do something about making my part of life a little bit more bearable... both for me and the people I love. I might not be able to change the whole world in one go, but I'm going to have a go at changing the little bits that I can. I'm going to care about the people and things that are important to me... and I'm not going to care if they're important to anyone else. That's a good start, isn't it?
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• Wednesday 12 July 2006 - (((huggs))) Tina
Posted by cc1804
Oh how often can the everyday, mundane things going wrong ruin everything :(
And Syd....I saw that news earlier :(:( may he RIP
Take care of you and your corner of the world...sod the rest of it for a while.
xx
PS And some ice on the toe might help too....ouchhh.
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• Thursday 29 June 2006 - Thank you guys
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Thank you everyone for your support yesterday. This little girl is my daughter... I guess some of you may have picked that up, but I thought I'd like to say so anyway. We both thank you for your concern and support... from the bottom of our hearts.
Well... I made a start. I couldn't do it yesterday, my post made it all too much. But this morning I started. I guess I've got half of it finished now.
I've been thinking about it... again... about why it's so hard. As I said yesterday, the hard part is all behind us. The statements, the court appearances... they're all done. The statements were videotaped... when she had an appearance in court it was done via closed circuit TV, and also taped. So that's all over and done with, there's no need for her to go through that again. At the time we just did it, and I didn't really think about it all that much. Well... of course I did, but I had that anger and the need to help her that pushed me through it all. I stressed... of course I did, but not like I am now. Not irrationally... like I am now.
Although, it's not really irrational. Now I have to put everything into words. All the nightmares, all the tears, all the shame. All the pain and suffering, all the implications, all the repercussions. Not mine... but hers. I have to delve inside her head, pull out all the horrible, scary bits, look at them, sort through them and organise them on paper. I have a victim impact statement to make too, but somehow I don't think that will be so hard. It's one thing to deal with your own thoughts... thoughts that you've already had the time to sort through and half-organise... but she's just a little girl. No mother wants to face all that. No mother should have to.
There's so much here to deal with. In the past it's been one little bit
at a time. It's like climbing one mountain after the other, but with
time to recover in between each one. This statement brings it all back
in one foul swoop. This is the whole mountain range in one go... no
stops, no rests, no recovering... and it's so hard. On top of that I
have to try to figure out how to list it all, convey how horrible it's been and condense it to two or
three pages.
This statement is not for public viewing. It won't have any bearing on the judgement. The evidence has already been gathered and his guilt will be decided on that. This is a guide to help the judge decide just how bad this offence is... to help him decide how severe the punishment will be... assuming he'll be found guilty. It also goes towards any compensation (and I haven't even checked into the possibility of that) that may be awarded to her. The compensation is not even an issue here though. The only compensation either of us want is to see him off the streets, hopefully for a long time. My fear is that he'll get a token punishment... a slap on the wrist... that my words won't be enough to put him away for long enough. It's an irrational fear, but as I said yesterday... I don't have a lot of faith in the system. A system that will put someone away for 10 years or more for defrauding a rich man, then give a paedophile a 12 month sentence for wrecking the life of an innocent child... well, it just doesn't seem right. I fear that my daughter has already suffered for longer than the sentence that he will end up with. That, in itself, doesn't seem fair.
Now I think I might go and crawl into my bed for a while. I'll be back this afternoon to finish what I've started... but for now I need to escape, even if it is just under my doona. Needless to say... I'm so glad to see that I've made so many new friends here. I'm glad to
see that there are still so many wonderful, caring and supportive
people left in the world. Your encouragement has indeed helped. Thank you again for your wonderful words. Thank you all.
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• Thursday 29 June 2006 - Untitled Comment
Posted by cc1804
(((warm huggs))) Tina...for both of you.
Am mustering up all the positive thoughts I can and sending them your way.
You've got the strength to do this...you inspire me.
You're an amazing and tough lady.
This mum thanks you for being who you are.
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• Wednesday 28 June 2006 - Hard: bad, callous, difficult, effortful, unfair, unpleasant.
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Hard /had/ (adj) difficult to do or accomplish; fatiguing; troublesome: a hard task. difficult to deal with, manage, control, overcome, or understand: a hard problem. involved or performed with great exhertion, energy, or persistence: hard work. unpleasant; unfair; bad: hard luck. austere; uncomfortable; causing pain, poverty, etc: hard times. incapable of being denied or explained away: hard facts. based on solid evidence; factual: hard information. harshly or severely; badly; gallingly: it goes hard.
Oh, why do some things that sound simple and straight-forward turn out to be so hard when you get down to the nitty-gritty? The job of putting words on paper is not usually one that I easily shy away from. I consider myself to be a relatively intelligent being, I'm fairly level-headed and reasonably elloquent, so why is this so hard to start? Why am I feeling so anxious? Why does my heart start racing whenever I think about it? Why are my hands shaking? Why do I sit in front of a blank screen and just stare at it? Why do I constantly feel like I'm just two breaths away from crying? Why can't I sleep properly? Why am I getting no feelings of calm from the cigarettes that I'm chain-smoking? Why are my thoughts so hard to control? Why do I think about this constantly, yet when I decide to apply myself, why do all the thoughts disappear? What happens if I don't get this right? Why is it that I'm doubting my ability to vocalise the facts? Why am I doubting myself at all, for that matter? Why is it that I have so many irrational fears? Why can't I be stronger? Why can't I just tell myself that this is something that needs to be done, and do it regardless of how I feel? Why do the demons that haunt me jump out at the most inconvenient times? Why are they still there? Why isn't the world and all the beings on it good and pure? Why aren't things just right and perfect already? Why has this happened? Why do I have to go through this? Why am I being so self-centred? Why did she have to go through this? What else will she have to endure? Why is it all so hard?
Forgive me... my head is all over the shop again. I have an unwelcome job ahead of me. I have to write out a victim impact statement for someone very close and dear to me. Someone who is good and sweet, and should never have had to endure what she did. A child, no less. A little girl who is just one of the untold number of faceless little girls who are victims of sex crimes. A child who is a number on a page somewhere in some office of law. A child with a beautiful face that will never again hold the pure innocence that she is entitled to. A child with a face that most will never see, or even think about. A child who has no legal voice of her own, nor the acquired knowledge needed to convey the monstrosity of this event. A child who has been through so much, and remains so strong... and yet has times of fragility that is purely heart-breaking. A little girl who has been denied the pure joy of just being a little girl with no worries except the frivolous and petty worries of inocent little girls.
The case date has been set. Finally. It took three years. Can you believe that? THREE YEARS! Yet, if she'd been an adult it would have been much less. The victim's voice would have been louder and easier to understand. The evidence would have been clearer. The impact would have been perceived as being greater. The case would have been processed more quickly. And he would have been in jail within the month. Instead, she has been left to deal with her shame, guilt, fear, self-doubt and horrific nightmares for three years. In this time she's had body image issues, has developed anger management issues, has lost her faith in human nature, has gone through a stage of self-mutilation and even contemplated taking her own life. In this time she has dealt with three different support liason officers, four different legal representatives, countless police representatives, has given three statements, has attended three different court appearances, has been questioned and cross-examined, accused, shamed, and even blamed. Her case has been delayed twice due to clever legal representation... and to some extent by the inconvenience it might cause the workers within the system. Is this even anywhere close to being fair?
And apart from a few uncomfortable hours in a police station, he's been out on the street the whole time. He even did it again in that time, to one girl that I know of... and that I only found out by chance. Who knows how many others went through the same thing in the last three years. It's hard to get information regarding cases such as this... the privacy act, you know... wouldn't want to spill too many beans on someone... monster or not.
I've personally seen him in public three times... but he's free to come and go wherever he wants as he pleases. The first time was in a supermarket. He had this smirk on his face that said to me "Look at me, walking free. Aren't I clever?" I looked at him and saw red. I started to walk towards him and I remember my son grabbing me by the arm to stop me. My face must have said something to the effect of "I want to rip your heart out and shove it up your ass," because the smirk disappeared and he all but ran away from me. The second time was at the hospital. He'd injured his hand somehow... I don't care how. I was with a friend and her daughter. I started a scene. The words I spoke were aimed at my friend, but I never took my eyes off of him. "Where's your daughter? Don't take your eyes of her, not for a second. There's a filthy piece of paedophile scum in this room"... something to that effect, anyway. I said it loud enough for everyone in the waiting room to hear. People looked at me... people looked at him... they all murmered amongst themselves. I didn't care. I just stared at him until he left... untreated. I was told later that he could have had me charged for that, but he didn't. The third time was at the first court appearance, the committal hearing. He was sitting outside the courtroom with his lawyer. I didn't say anything to him this time, but I walked very, very slowly past him, staring at him and daring him to even look at me. He glanced at me once, then dropped his eyes and refused to look at me again. Until then he was smiling... afterwards his face was palid and he looked terrified.... his hands started to shake. I'm glad. Even when I entered the court room and gave my evidence he kept his eyes down. I was clear... concise... I kept my face even, but I kept my eyes on him for every second... and I could see that he was shit scared of me. He was more scared of me than he was of the system. After that his lawyers made sure that he was nowhere to be seen when he came to court... hidden away from me.
But now I'm afraid to do what needs to be done. The hardest part... or the part that most would consider to be the hardest... is behind us. But I'm still afraid. I'm afraid of what I have to write. I'm afraid that I won't be able to convey the impact that this has had on her life sufficiently. I don't have much faith in the system, you see. I'm worried that he won't get the punishment that he deserves. I'm scared that this little girl won't get the justice that she deserves... that she will be pushed under the rug. I'm terrified that her ordeal will be trivialised so much that she will never see that justice has been done. How can that be a fair and just judicial system, when the victims are more worried about the outcome than the perpetrator of the crime? Is there any wonder that I'm so worried about saying the right thing? About getting it wrong and letting her down?
I have to go. I have work to do. I have to do this. Close your eyes and send me your love, or caring, or prayers, or good vibes, or well wishes... whatever you choose to call it. Wish me luck, and send me strength......
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• Wednesday 28 June 2006 - Through tears...
Posted by cc1804
I send you the strength, love and everything else you need to do this Tina.
Have spent day thinking of similar things......it's hell.
Be strong for that little girl Tina, be strong.
Have faith in yourself
xx
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• Friday 16 June 2006 - Uuuuggghh !!!
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Wednesday 14th June......
I'm sick. I hate being sick.
I had a crappy night's sleep last night. Tossed and turned all night. Kept waking up all hot and cold. And nightmares... I had to get up and walk around a couple of times. It happens every time I'm sick. It usually helps a bit to have a nice sweet cup of tea and a smoke or two... well, it probably doesn't help much at all, medically speaking. It gives me time to forget the nightmares a bit though.
I woke up this morning with a stuffy nose and an even stuffier head. My brain's only working on three cylinders and they're running dry. My head hurts, my eyes feel like they're going to pop out at any minute and my joints and muscles all ache. I'm sneezing all over the place, and my throat's starting to get that tingly feeling that means that it'll be sore tomorrow. I haven't started coughing too badly just yet, but that'll probably come too.
To make it worse, I have no patience and my good humour has deserted me. My responses to even the most benign conversation seem to be too harsh, or too short, or too apathetic. I usually forget to say thank-you for things that people do for me, and sorry if I upset someone. I yell at the cat for meowing at me. I get frustrated with simple tasks, like tying my shoelaces. I get shitty because the dishes are piling up. I get resentful because others don't make a little bit more effort to do something nice to make me at least feel better inside. I frown all the time. Nothing is funny any more. Things that I normally find extremely fascinating suddenly bore me to tears. Music becomes monotonous. TV becomes unbearable. It's too hard to read. Coffee tastes like soapy dishwater. Work is next to impossible. I get frustrated because everything is so much harder to do. I dislike myself for not trying harder.
I think the family has learnt how to deal with a sick me, though. Everyone around me steers clear of me when I'm sick, and that's probably a good thing... I don't want to make them sick too.
And since I've been sitting in pretty much the same postition all day, now my neck and back hurt too. Oh, woe is me. I might just go to bed and try to sleep.
I hate being sick 
• Wednesday 14 June 2006 - :( | Posted by goo0002 (147.69.111.213) | | Everyone hates being sick. My biggest thing is that I'm sick for ages. So after the person I caught it from is all better I'm still stumbling around sneezing. The other thing is I'm always really sick on important school days so I have to go anyway! Then when a day I can afford to miss comes around I'm not sick enough to take the day off anymore! AAAAARRRRRGGGG! I hate being sick |
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