Domestic Violence cases reach a record high
A recent study from Victoria Police on the overall crime in the area states that there has been a 5.7% rise in ‘crime against the person’ from 2012–2013 to 2013–2014.
Domestic/family violence now accounts for almost half of all crimes reported against another person primarily your significant other. Kathleen O’Connor reports on these statistics and identifies three different forms of domestic violence. Are you a victim?
I woke up this morning feeling on top of the world, great job, amazing friends and two beautiful children. I looked bedside me before getting up for work and stare at my husband sleeping peacefully. I got in the shower, got myself dressed, got the kids ready for school and woke up my husband for work.
My name is Rachael Quinn and I am just an average 30 year old with kids, a husband and job. After returning from work that afternoon, I picked up the kids from school and dropped them off at their grandparent’s house for a party my husband and I will be attending later on that evening. As I arrived home he was frazzled. My outfit was already neatly laid out on the bed as I watched my husband have a mental breakdown because his shirt wasn’t ironed. I had asked him yesterday if he wanted it ironed and he said he wanted to do it ‘properly’, but he yells at me anyway.
After waiting for him to get ready we are finally on our way to the party, an hour late. He doesn’t speak to me in the car because it is all my fault that we are late.
Once we get to the party we see our friends. They were asking us why we were so late and he said “Well you know women,” and they all laughed. I went bright red at everyone laughing as he blamed me for the tardiness.
“I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he forced his lips onto mine and pinned me down.”
After he barely spoke to me that night, I decided to go home at midnight. I got home, after having a few wines and got into bed. I heard my husband come in just after three in the morning stumbling his way up the stairs and into the bedroom. He turned on all the lights and stared at me while he took of his tie. He had such an accomplished smirk on his face as if he was happy with himself. He finally crawled into my side of the bed and sat on top of me, trying to remove my clothes. I told him to please stop and tried to get away from him, I was still so upset with him, but he kept going. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he forced his lips onto mine and pinned me down to the bed. “I said no,” I shrieked as I tried to wriggle away from his grasp once again.
For the first time in a long time, I was actually frightened. He is not the same person when he has had a few drinks. He finally gave up and threw me off the bed so hard that I hit my head on corner of the bedside table. I peeled myself off the floor and started walking to the bathroom as he mumbled something under his breath and passed out on the bed.
I washed and dressed the cut on my head and wiped the recurring tears from my eyes before taking a deep breath and going back to bed. As I lay there, I wasn’t upset with him, I felt guilty. Gulity for not just ironing his shirt so we wouldn’t have been late and if I had just had sex with him now I wouldn’t have this damn cut on my head.
Everything was fine the next morning so I said nothing. It wasn’t a big deal.
