Part 1: becoming a dad
This is my first steemit post and the first time I have written anything in detail regarding the past decade of my life.
At 25, I was content. I'd visited a good few places, some I never dreamed I would as a child. Watching the rising sun at Angkor Wat, and snorkelling in the beautiful waters of the Perhentian islands of Malaysia just two amazing experiences I'll never forget.
I had a good job, a close friend group, read a lot, exercised and participated in sports and social events as often as possible. And, although not ending well at times, I'd had my share of women both in relationships and single time.
Life was good, good enough for me.
It was new year 2004, I was at a house party and met a girl who would turn out to be the mother of my only child. 6 months later she was pregnant, the pill hadn't done its job, but other precautions should of course have been taken to be in no doubt. Anyway, that's how it was to be, and I'd always wanted to be a younger father than my own, who had turned 46 when I was born and was already 50 when I wanted to kick a football around all day.
Soon after we found out the news things obviously began to change, not least my child's mother. Early into this time she confirmed that she'd deferred university and stopped taking the pill. A shock but too late for it to make any difference going forward. So we moved in together, I worked 9-5, washed, cooked, cleaned while she steadily became tougher to live with. If I was 20 minutes 'late' home from work, I'd find clothes on the path outside and have to answer many questions and beg to be let in. Any photos I had with a girl present were destroyed one day, I found 'fucking wanker' written in conditioner on the kitchen counter one evening (I did laugh at that one, still no idea why), I even had a pint of water, with the glass, thrown at me one day. I had to pin her down as she went for a shard whilst I called the police.
I was a prisoner in my own home, no longer allowed to go see friends. Everything came with a similar threat.. You won't see this child and you'll end up like your dad. She knew where to attack, and I just kept taking the punches, I wanted to live with my daughter and be a part of her upbringing, so I'd back down and bottle it. One day I got home to face a heavily pregnant girl and a kitchen knife, I had nothing to offer her, I just left and called her Grandma.
March 25th 2006, my daughter arrived, healthy and requiring a 'bit of sunshine' on top of the usual eat, play, change, sleep rota. The first 3 months I loved, being a dad and learning how to keep a young child content was really great fun.
However, someone was not having fun. Tired of hearing of her friends parties that lasted all weekend, I was again to blame for 'the disappearance of her childhood' - another lie to suit the people present, oh there were so many of those.
We lasted another 3 months, until she finally got what she wanted -
Retaliation from myself in the form of physical force. It was my first day off after paternity leave, I woke to my daughter stirring, fed her, changed her, and played with her on her interactive mat. Looking content, I left her to play, went upstairs and checked in to see if any food or drink was required. Only got a moan so assumed not and went into the spare room. The moment I switched the PC on, she was there, 'what are you doing?', 'err, just checking emails n stuff?' And so another argument began - who starts their daily hate campaign from bed?
After another round of verbal abuse, along with a few kicks and punches I decided enough was enough. I grabbed her by the hair, pulled her back into the bedroom, and put a chair in front of the handle. I went downstairs, sat in front of my child and cried my eyes out - I knew what was coming. I received a warning for this crime, sat and answered many questions while the tape was running, but never once said a negative word about my child's mother, until the tape was stopped and the female officer asked if there was anything else - she received many of the details above, but didn't seem to care much.
So there I was, sat alone in this house, a criminal record, with no contact with my child. Although one of the low points of my life, time was not to heal and things became tougher in the years following....
With no idea how this will be taken, I've decided to split the post out into two parts. The second post will follow in a few days. Thanks for listening thus far.
Ash