Domestic Voilence- Breaking the cycle. A true story of 3 generations of domestic violence and how the cycle was broken.

Chapt. 1
Mums story:  Drummoyne, NSW, 1945.
Mum, dad and 7 yr old brother. Mum was a secretary then stayed at home, dad worked at tire factory.
We lived in a small house and all the kids used to play out on the street in the day time and my dad used to whistle to get me to come back in when it got dark.
My brother was in the scouts and we had an old chevy car with a little 'dicky' seat in the back and my brother and I used to sit in the back in the little outdoor seat with scarfs and hats on. We would go to scout camps.   Once we went on a two day trip to a dam that had broken< Burrabarang dam to see it before it flooded.  I was scolded when I was about 3 from some hot water on the stove and this was a bit traumatic for me and the family at the time, but apart that, times were good.
My father had a 50 yr old birthday party and whilst this was on a thief got into my bedroom window and stole all the liquor and cigarettes.  That was scarey for me and after that I would not sleep in my own bed for the next five years.  We moved to Curl Curl in Sydney and my parents built my bedroom across the hall from them and I slept in that bedroom from about the age of 10 yrs.

My mum and dad both worked every single weekend at the Manly Amusement Fun Pier.  So I would go and sit on all the rides all day.  When I was a bit older I joined Manly swim club and would race there each weekend.  When I was about 12yrs old I stayed home all weekend on my own, except to go swimming and to the beach.  I would do household chores like bring the clothes in off the line and cook tea for myself. They came home about 10pm-11pm at night.  My dad went to the pub every night after work.  He was a big drinker and started to come home drunk every night in a really bad mood.

My mother would nag him a bit and he would loose his temper easily and began to be aggressive towards my mother and my brother if he tried to defend her.  He used to say to him, "Are you man or mouse?" and pick fights with him.  When he was about 15yrs old a big fight broke out between my brother and my dad and my dad put his fists through the wall.  My mother would often faint on the floor when all this went on.  She was always shocked that he would loose his temper.
The atmosphere from then on was really bad.  My brother and I started not to bring home friends at all as we never knew when a fight would break out.
I spent a lot of time in my bedroom crying and looking out at the little creek out the back window with my little transistor radio turned up high so I couldnt hear the arguing.
One night my father came home and the knife at the dinner table wasnt straight and he lost his temper saying my mum was slovenly and ripped the whole table cloth off and smashed everything on the floor.

(chapters to come).