Content warning: The following story deals with domestic violence, which may be triggering for some readers.
When I was around 19, I moved from Augathella to Brisbane to give a better life to my then young children.
I had lived in a small country town, but wanted to move to the city where there was more opportunity.
Shortly after I arrived in Brisbane, I met a man.
When we first met, we were in the honeymoon phase. We were both so happy and in love.
Things changed when he moved in with us and the domestic violence started.
I’d never taken drugs or drunk alcohol in my life, however he did. He became violent - I remember times when he dragged me from one end of the house to the other by my hair, beating me.
I thought “I’m going to die here. How am I going to get out?”
It seemed impossible.
I started to suffer from anxiety so badly that I couldn’t even swallow my food. I would choke on it every time I ate, and I wondered if this was my life.
One time, I was driving the car, and he was with me, the whole time assaulting me. I ended up driving the car straight into the telephone pole because I just wanted everything to end. I couldn’t see a way out.
Thankfully, I survived.
I sat there in the car for a few minutes, all the while he was hitting me and I reflected on my two young children. I loved them more than anything and I thought “What are you doing?”. “Why did you do that?”
What would have happened to my children if I didn’t survive the car crash? So I made an oath, then and there. I vowed I would never, ever do anything like that again. To get into a situation where I wanted to end things.