As statute of limitations becomes an ever-pressing issue, I find myself thinking more and more about what this all means to me and why I would consider moving forward with a lawsuit. Initially, much of it was the physical aspect. I had a bulging disc in my lower back prior to this entire incident and it already caused me a significant amount of pain. This incident aggravated my pain to levels I couldn't even fathom.
My father portrayed me as a threat to society and when the two state troopers arrived in my driveway and handcuffed me, they were less than gentle. The one was clearly afraid of me and was particularly rough. The ride to the ER with my hands cuffed behind my back and seatbelted was excruciating and I asked the officers several times to please pull over and switch the cuffs to the front. I explained my back issues, but to deaf ears. By the time it was all said and done, the pain in both my wrists, my back and neck were absolutely unbearable. I was terrified for months, after the police incident, that I would never kayak again or enjoy a "normal" life. For several weeks, I was confined to my bed in pain that I didn't know was possible. Almost two years later, I still suffer from wrist, back and neck issues.
These things should have never happened.
Tonight, I find myself thinking about my life at that time and I look back in absolute shock. How did I survive that, emotionally???
The terror started in February 2010--well, much earlier, if you consider when I was living with the PFA boyfriend (March 2009--November 2009) and when I initially left him Thanksgiving of 2009--but the feeling of being terrified of him coming to my home and hurting me probably started increasing around mid-February 2010. It became bad enough and I had enough evidence that it was occurring that a friend encouraged me to seek a PFA. That started on April 1, 2010 and we had our official "date with the judge" on April 22, 2010--during which time, the judge felt there was enough reason to grant me a three year PFA.
Looking back at the terror I was feeling by April, I was often terrified to leave my house, I was afraid to sleep many nights and woke up to the slightest sound due to his frequent threats to come in on his own, if I was unwilling to talk. Easter was April 4th that year and I tried talking to my father about my fear, the PFA, and begged him to help me. He, too, turned a deaf ear and told me that it was between me and my ex-boyfriend. April 10th was when my father came to my house, harassed me himself and again, refused to listen when I tried to tell him what was really going on in my life. Many people told me to seek a PFA against my father after that event, but that seemed ridiculous.
By the official PFA hearing date of April 22nd, I was an absolute mess. I felt terrorized and harassed from so many directions that I could no longer leave my house without having people with me--for grocery shopping, to get my mail--simple activities were now so fraught with terror that I could barely function. Yeah, my father was right. There was something VERY wrong with me. But I needed his support; not for him to add to the horror.
I remember being terrified to even enter the courthouse that morning. I hadn't had to deal with the ex-boyfriend face-to-face since the last week of March (and those events were driving factors in obtaining the PFA), so the idea of sitting in the same room with him were almost beyond what I was capable of. If it hadn't been for the fact that my "defender" was there to support me, I couldn't have done it.
What I didn't expect was to have my father show up there, attempting to persuade the judge to have me committed to a state hospital. He was there in uniform (to show his authority and power) and frequently came into the room I was waiting in, with his own anger and threats. Again, how I survived this, I am not sure. Thankfully, the judge ignored my father's requests and still granted me the PFA.
Several hours after this, I was in my yard and my father called me. He demanded that I meet with a crisis worker and when I discovered that my father was also in the town I lived in, I immediately went inside and locked my door. There was no way I wanted a replay of the antics he displayed on April 10th--I knew that trusting this man and calling him father was no longer possible. Thankfully, he didn't call back and he didn't come to the house.
Shortly after, I had to take my vehicle to the garage. It was as I was returning home and pulling into my driveway that I looked into my rearview mirror to see the state police car behind me. I didn't even have my vehicle shut off when they approached me. And so began the rest of that journey--wrestled, handcuffed, escorted to the ER and the rest of the evening spent there. By far, one of the worst days of my life.
These things should have never happened.
My father portrayed me as a threat to society and when the two state troopers arrived in my driveway and handcuffed me, they were less than gentle. The one was clearly afraid of me and was particularly rough. The ride to the ER with my hands cuffed behind my back and seatbelted was excruciating and I asked the officers several times to please pull over and switch the cuffs to the front. I explained my back issues, but to deaf ears. By the time it was all said and done, the pain in both my wrists, my back and neck were absolutely unbearable. I was terrified for months, after the police incident, that I would never kayak again or enjoy a "normal" life. For several weeks, I was confined to my bed in pain that I didn't know was possible. Almost two years later, I still suffer from wrist, back and neck issues.
These things should have never happened.
Tonight, I find myself thinking about my life at that time and I look back in absolute shock. How did I survive that, emotionally???
The terror started in February 2010--well, much earlier, if you consider when I was living with the PFA boyfriend (March 2009--November 2009) and when I initially left him Thanksgiving of 2009--but the feeling of being terrified of him coming to my home and hurting me probably started increasing around mid-February 2010. It became bad enough and I had enough evidence that it was occurring that a friend encouraged me to seek a PFA. That started on April 1, 2010 and we had our official "date with the judge" on April 22, 2010--during which time, the judge felt there was enough reason to grant me a three year PFA.
Looking back at the terror I was feeling by April, I was often terrified to leave my house, I was afraid to sleep many nights and woke up to the slightest sound due to his frequent threats to come in on his own, if I was unwilling to talk. Easter was April 4th that year and I tried talking to my father about my fear, the PFA, and begged him to help me. He, too, turned a deaf ear and told me that it was between me and my ex-boyfriend. April 10th was when my father came to my house, harassed me himself and again, refused to listen when I tried to tell him what was really going on in my life. Many people told me to seek a PFA against my father after that event, but that seemed ridiculous.
By the official PFA hearing date of April 22nd, I was an absolute mess. I felt terrorized and harassed from so many directions that I could no longer leave my house without having people with me--for grocery shopping, to get my mail--simple activities were now so fraught with terror that I could barely function. Yeah, my father was right. There was something VERY wrong with me. But I needed his support; not for him to add to the horror.
I remember being terrified to even enter the courthouse that morning. I hadn't had to deal with the ex-boyfriend face-to-face since the last week of March (and those events were driving factors in obtaining the PFA), so the idea of sitting in the same room with him were almost beyond what I was capable of. If it hadn't been for the fact that my "defender" was there to support me, I couldn't have done it.
What I didn't expect was to have my father show up there, attempting to persuade the judge to have me committed to a state hospital. He was there in uniform (to show his authority and power) and frequently came into the room I was waiting in, with his own anger and threats. Again, how I survived this, I am not sure. Thankfully, the judge ignored my father's requests and still granted me the PFA.
Several hours after this, I was in my yard and my father called me. He demanded that I meet with a crisis worker and when I discovered that my father was also in the town I lived in, I immediately went inside and locked my door. There was no way I wanted a replay of the antics he displayed on April 10th--I knew that trusting this man and calling him father was no longer possible. Thankfully, he didn't call back and he didn't come to the house.
Shortly after, I had to take my vehicle to the garage. It was as I was returning home and pulling into my driveway that I looked into my rearview mirror to see the state police car behind me. I didn't even have my vehicle shut off when they approached me. And so began the rest of that journey--wrestled, handcuffed, escorted to the ER and the rest of the evening spent there. By far, one of the worst days of my life.
These things should have never happened.
To start the day with a PFA hearing and terror--midday, to have the police remove you from your property as a common criminal and the terror of not knowing why (they didn't tell me why they were there or why they were doing what they were to me)--to end the day, attempting to prove your sanity and the terror that knowing because of all of these events, sanity is quickly waning...
Yeah, these things should have never happened...
No crisis worker ever called me or came to evaluate me. They took my father's uniform as enough evidence that his statements were true. He lied all through the report he gave--information he knew was not true--but this is what happens to disobedient children, right? Never mind the fact that they are 36 years old and a therapist, themselves? As I mentioned before, the crisis worker my father met with was a woman I had fired several months before that--I was her supervisor. Some conflict there, perhaps? So many areas that this entire situation was just wrong.
Making sense of it... I still struggle, nearly two years later. I wonder if I ever will?
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