TELL YOUR STORY

If you are a male victim of family violence - domestic violence, violence from other family members, child abuse, elder abuse, sexual assault, or other forms of family violence and abuse - this page is available for you to tell your anonymous story. Please click here to tell your own story. If you feel like you need support, please click here. Stories are moderated to prevent the posting of spam, so it might take a little while for your story to appear on this page.

PERSONAL STORIES FROM MALE VICTIMS OF FAMILY VIOLENCE AND ABUSE

Friday
May272016

Nan's personal story

My son has been a victim of domestic violence. I am so upset that everything is available to female victims but males are completely ignored. My son and 3 grandchildren came to live with me 18 months ago when all hell broke loose at their home. My son wore the marks of physical abuse but the police believed his de facto partner. My grandchildren were all witnesses to what happened and were traumatised terribly, but they believed the female and charged my son with assault.

The children want nothing to do with their mother but the ICL (independent children's lawyer) has made things so difficult for my son that I am completely appalled. I was a victim of domestic violence myself, and I cannot believe what is happening now. My sons ex partner is apparently entitled to free legal aid and a heap of other things. And yet my son, who has struggled alone through all this, is not entitled to anything. He is unemployed, and has had to pay his own legal fees to fight for his children.

Why is it ,that being a female in this situation, is so different than being a male? I realise that there are many women out there who genuinely need help, but please remember, there are also just as many males who are shot down in flames every day. Wake up Australia!!!

Thursday
May122016

Simon's personal story

On the 19th of June, 2012 shortly before 1am, my 2 1/2 year old boy woke with a wet nappy. Normally I would jump up and take care of him but the previous four nights, he had been sick with a gastro illness which took a minimum of ten nappies a night. I did 80% of these and was, understandably, buggered. I asked his mother to tend to him, to my surprise she agreed. I informed her that she would be required to go outside the cabin we were staying in to retrieve the baby wipes. Her reply was “Well fuck that, you can do it” I was already getting out of bed and murmured how I thought she was lazy.

As I reached the end of the little corridor to the front door, she came running at my back. This is somewhat ‘normal’ for her and had happened on several occasions previously, she would launch up and bite my trapezius muscle. I heard her coming so I turned and pushed her down to the floor pre-launch. This was also ‘normal’ by now. And proceeded to my vehicle to retrieve the baby wipes, did so and returned to the cabin. As I faced back out the door to close it, It was a glass sliding door of the type that are everywhere. I felt some really strange sensations in my shoulder and lower back. I turned around and instantly dropped like a bag of shit to my knees, I was in agony and was having difficulty breathing. I did not know what was happening or why?

I heard my ex start screeching and told her to turn the light on, which she did. I had sat up a bit and when the light came I noticed blood splashes on the floor in front of me. I remember thinking ‘oh shit, this is not going to end well’ Then the pain hit me full force and I pulled my shirt away from chest and saw ‘the little mouth’ smiling at me and I knew straight up it was a stab wound. I buckled again and went into shock. I am familiar with traumatic wounds and shock reactions having previously experienced them. The shock reaction is how your body tells you of the severity of your trauma. I had never experienced such a severe and intense shock reaction, that is when I started to become frightened. Up til then I just thought ' Well I'm definitely gunna need a bloody doctor this time'.

She got off the phone to her mother and asked me if I wanted an ambulance, to which I replied “YES!”. I realised that I was losing blood faster than was good. I got to my feet and kneeled with my head on my elbow on a small couch that was there, my other hand was covering my front wound in an attempt to put pressure on it. I concentrated on slowing my breathing to get my heart rate down and slow the loss of blood. I knew somehow that I needed to stay conscious and put everything into breathing slow and deep as I could and keeping my wits about me.

I found out later it took the Ambos 25 minutes to get there, due to the rural setting. (Tongala Caravan Park, Victoria) Alas, due to high winds I missed out on a free helicopter ride! I remember thinking ‘I wonder how long it has been’ and suddenly the door was thrown open and a voice yelled " Where's the knife? Where's the knife? " and a Victorian Copper literally leaped inside the door. As soon as I saw him, I knew the Ambos would be right behind him and I just let go. Then I remember being on a guerney being wheeled out the door and hearing a voice say “OMG look at how far up the blade the blood goes!” I remember the ambulance was definitely low flying because of the almighty hits that made me stir in transit, I was, after all, in a critical condition due the knife penetrating my liver and gall bladder.

I remember being in a bright white place and hearing girls talking, then someone cut my tank top off. I was mortified because my oldest boy had bought it for me for christmas. Then I woke up in the white place and started to choke due to the life support, a voice told me to stay calm and the tube was slowly removed from my throat. Once I could breathe OK, I opened my eyes and rejoined the land of the living. I was in the ICU, at the wonderful Goulburn Valley Base Hospital in Shepparton. The staff are miracle workers. Upon arrival I was immediately taken for emergency surgery to save my life. This involved an emergency laparotomy. (They cut you open from your belly button to your sternum, take your guts out and stack them on your belly, inspect and repair any damage, put it all back and sow and staple your tummy back together).

By this time over a litre and a half of blood had collected inside me and was removed, that is on top of the copious amount of blood which I had already lost in the preceeding time. Due to the massive blood loss I was not expected to survive the night and Homicide Detectives were informed of a pending job. I spent about 2 or 3 days in the ICU. No-one told Mum or Dad, I did this from my hospital bed, they did not recognise my voice. I was transferred to a surgical ward and put on hourly observation. I was being given Ketamine and Morphine for pain and a cocktail of other pills for various reasons. I had a tube in each side of my belly to drain the blood and bile out of upper abdomen. I was on oxygen and was catheterised and canulated in each arm. The canulas left scars, my ex has put in an affidavit since, that the scarring is from heavy illicit drug use!

After approximately a week, the bile leakage into my upper abdomen was up to a litre a day, I went into tachycardia (Resting heart rate of 180 bpm) and my right lung partially collapsed (very painful). I am unaware if it contributed but this was also the day that a nurse failed to do the obs because she had judged me to be a woman basher. I underwent a second laparotomy to fix the bile leak issue, they also removed my gall bladder and appendix. Unfortunately, this did not affect the amount of bile leakage and I was transferred to Box Hill Hospital.

As I was wheeled into the ICU at Box Hill, I was met at the door by a young male doctor, this was encouraging until he said “So tell me mate, we're all curious, did you deserve it or is she just a crazy bitch?” I was stunned. I am unable to recall my reply to, what was, one of the most offensive questions that I had EVER been asked. I don't think it would have been good.

The other staff were great and managed to stabilise my condition enough for an ERCP and sphincterotomy (not THAT sphincter!) They inserted a stent in my liver, which fixed the bile leak. I spent several days more at Box Hill, during which Mum turned up. She jumped in her car and drove to Melbourne from the Gold Coast by herself at 63 years of age! What a woman! I was transferred back to G.V.B.H and a little under a week later was discharged with 28 metal staples and uncounted stitches in my belly.

I had not seen the kids in all this time. The Department of (In)Human Services had taken the kids from their mother's custody and they were in foster care. I was forced to have supervised access to them for the next three months due to their mother and grandmother lying to DHS about myself being a violent, mentally ill, drug addicted, alcoholic woman and child abuser. This was accepted with very little evidence by DHS and I was never given one chance to tell my side of the story.

I have been treated like a criminal since then. The kids' mother has made my life hell since because she has not spent a single day in jail and DHS gave the kids to her, so she has used them against me whenever she can. She was given a 1 year community corrections order for her crime of Intentionally causing Serious Injury. This was successfully Appealed by the Office of Public Prosecutions, on the grounds of Manifestly Inadequite Sentence. She was re-sentenced to 100 hours of community service and a 3 year community corrections order. Apparently she was remorseful.

She told me that she wishes she had have killed me because then I wouldn't be here trying to steal her children. To see my second son (who was the only witness to the stabbing) I am forced to travel through the town I was stabbed in. He is a little champion, who comforted me by patting my head as I lay bleeding to death. My youngest son ( Who was in utero at the time) has been kept from me ( along with my beautiful stepkids, now 12 and 10) and is being taught to call the drug addict who his mother started sleeping with while I was still in hospital, Dad. This bloke is on the court orders, he is to have no contact with the children. According to her they are just friends. He lives with them and she has had another child (6 months old) with him.

All that she has done to me has served to make me a stronger and better person in the long run. My only concern is the welfare of my little boys. I have been a single dad to my oldest son (13) since he was eight months old. I am more than capable of bringing these boys up to be good men, I fear they way they will otherwise turn out in the angry house they live in. Please share this story with everyone you can, I cannot bear to think that my sons (and yours) would be treated like this one day.

Sunday
May082016

Chloe's personal story

My Father is a victim of Domestic Violence.

I am only 13 years old but within those years I have heard lots and seen lots. My dad a humble, smart, intelligent man married in 1999. But even before the marriage Claire had been lying to him. For instance when she said she was single. Then later she said she was divorced. Then more weeks later she said she had one child then two children then three children. My dad was shocked but when she left him for a day to look after the children he loved the children he felt like a father. My dad married this woman because he felt like a father he never loved her despite people telling him that she was evil.

My dad was abused she bit him all over the body constantly waked him during the night. Claire broke his finger.

In 2008 she had an episode I was five. She was cutting her wedding dress my dad came upstairs and said that is sad. She then stood up and started chasing him with the scissors in her hands and trying to stab him. We then came to the notice. She pushed me down the stairs and then my other sister managed to grab the scissors and hid them. My sister tried to call the police but Claire was strangling her. My sister said she remembers everything going white. The police called back and managing to get her off with the help of the others she talked to the police. When the police came to take her away my dad a humble man was still like please don't hurt her be careful. After all she had done my dad was still a kind man. This memory will always be in my mind this is what I think when I think of my mother.

Let me jump a few years.

July the 4th 2014. My dad had decided to sleep in my sister's room to go away. So my dad was on the window seat when she barged in. "My phone. You reset my phone" (which dad had not). "I am going away and I am going to get my Jihadist patients to kill you all". She then went away. My dad checked a few minutes later and thought everything looked normal. At 6am in the morning we woke up because the alarm had gone off. Dad told us what had happened. We went check for her realising our laptops our phone the wifi box was all gone. We quickly drove down to the police to tell them what has happened.

I have told you a bit, but it is hard to talk about it. It will break you. We moved out on July 14th 2014

We have obtained an ADVO on her she has criminal charges on her.

We do everything.

Men are also have domestic violence.

Thursday
May052016

Dave's personal story

I'm sure my story is unlike any other you've ever heard.

I've been married for over 25 years. I am a fairly deep sleeper and my wife used to take a long while to fall to sleep. I think she was always jealous of me for this. About 12/14 years ago my wife started deliberately waking me several times each night. At first I didn't know what was happening but occasionally I'd stay awake and feel the kick or firm tap from her every hour or so. I asked her to stop this but it never has. She likes being awake at night - regular visits to the toilet and reading until late. I like to go to sleep early and wake early to exercise.

Eventually it started to really hurt me physically - I'd suffer chest pains from the blast of adrenaline several times each night upon being woken, plus the chronic tiredness during the day. I tried different things to stop her. I tried being very attentive, or throwing my arms and legs onto her when she woke me, or doing it back to her, or getting up and going for a walk whenever she woke me. Nothing has ever worked. I've no doubt she is in such a routine she cannot stop - plus she gets some perverse enjoyment out of doing it to me - she has a foul temper and loves to fly into a rage.

I ended up with very high blood pressure so my doctor sent me for a 24 hour blood pressure check - this showed my BP skyrocketing at night. My doc thought it meant I had a form of sleep apnea - from irregular shallow breathing - so I went to a sleep clinic and they gave me a continuous pressure air machine to wear at night. It made a lot of noise so my wife made me move out of the bed. That was over 5 years ago.

I now try to sleep in another room downstairs but she continues to come and wake me during the night. This has gone on for far too long. There is no love in this marriage as I feel totally and completely betrayed by my wife. I do all I can to avoid her. I haven't exacted any revenge for her incessant nightly attacks on me. I firmly believe she is mentally ill. Although many years ago her rather hateful mother used to gloat about how she kicked her husband every night if he ever snored. My insane wife learned her tricks from her mother.

This problem still continues regardless of wherever I find to sleep in and around our house. She is clearly mentally ill but takes pleasure from destroying my sleep every night. Our kids are adult and I desperately want to leave my wife and move far away. I am sick and tired of being a victim of my wife's abuse.

Can you give me any thoughts or ideas on how I can take action. I would leave her with our house etc just to get away from her constant attacks.

Thursday
Apr142016

Luke's personal story

I really do not know where to begin. My life has been destroyed. My ex-partner has stolen all of my savings and has left me in tens of thousands of dollars in debt. She obtained my credit card number and spent my employer payout on clothes, eBay items, dinners out, out court costs relating to an item that she presented to me as a gift but, obviously was not paid for.

At the same time, when allowed to collect some of her belongings from my place, she has stolen five of my artworks. I would have sold these, with great pain, in order to deal with my debts. She has wrecked my car and not contributed to maintaining my place. She has lied many, many times. She has manipulated my life to such an extent that I had no phone nor internet connections to contact my family. I am so disappointed that so many men in my situation have no where to turn to.

We are, indeed, the forgotten third of domestic violence.