This is potentially outing so I have changed my name.
I’m from a family where there was terrible, criminal abuse on my dad’s side when he was a kid. He ended up in a children’s home after his mum was locked in a mental institution (as was then prettily called) and his dad went to prison. How parents had only been 15 when he was born and were both institutionalised by the time they were 20. But my dad managed to escape the shackles of his bad upbringing and has had a largely good and long marriage to my mum. There are me and two other siblings. Nice, normal childhood for me for the most part, although my Dad is obviously scarred by his childhood and in particular has a scary temper sometimes, which has never been physically violent but which can be very scary and I spent a lot of my childhood as the “peace keeper” trying to reason with him when he would get very angry. The flip side of this was how clever he is and he was very interested in helping me achieve academically. That was our bond when I was growing up and he played an instrument with me.
My dads mum was in and out of his life from the time he was in his early 20s, but she had a lot of alcohol related issues and was inconsistent. His dad was never in his life, having died of alcoholism when my dad was only 30 (and my grandfather himself was only in his mid 40s). FWIW my dad doesn’t touch alcohol.
When I was 16 I entered into a relationship with my then teacher. He was 33. His family situation was startlingly similar to my own dads- prison, physical and sexual abuse, alcohol abuse. He also had a very bad temper but was very clever and mentored me in his subject (music) as my Dad had done. It was very obvious why I was attracted to him. It wasn’t predestined exactly, but we bonded over what we knew of what families could be, this was a real tie for us and obviously I was playing out my Dad stuff with him. Who’s to say that our bond would ever have been as strong had we not had such a shared history of dysfunction.
What followed was a terrible almost ten years. He (I’ll call him Ben) had been married when our relationship started but swiftly left his wife for me. My parents were horrified but it was the late 80s and not illegal (because I was over 16).
I was a clever kid and got decent A Levels and went to uni to study Ben’s subject (whilst still with Ben, that was what we initially bonded over) but our lives were blighted by booze. I loved Ben, for all his faults and despite the dubious nature of our relationship safeguarding-wise looking back, and I believe he loved me but we LOVED drinking. We both obviously had a genetic predisposition to alcoholism and we pulled the other down. We were very violent with one another whilst drunk and as the years went on this got worse and spilled into our lives more and more. Whereas previously we had been a quirky but functional couple sober and Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? drunk, we got worse and worse until violence was a feature of our daily lives.
I did well academically despite the drinking and had a good job after uni that I held down surprisingly well all things considered (eg that was drunk from 5pm every day and still drunk some mornings). He was still teaching. My job almost certainly saved me, I didn’t want a baby because of my my career and Ben and I married but agreed we wouldn’t have a family until we had “sorted out the boozing”, which was our shorthand for “sorted our lives out”.
The drinking and violence escalated and, long story short, he met me after work for drinks one day after we had argued and brought a knife out with him, which he threatened me with. Not the first time that this had happened but we got so drunk that we fought and he stabbed me (the knife and threatening wasnt new, the stabbing was) and I kicked him in the head and he ended up in hospital very ill with a head injury. My stabbing was largely superficial but scary. It wasn’t the first time anyone had been hospitalised, I had previously ended up in hospital at his hand too, and to be honest it wasn’t even the worst anyone had rowed or been hurt, but the combination of the stabbing and the head injury was a wake up call. The doctor treating him told me a swift kick a bit more left of where I caught him would have killed him.
I loved Ben very deeply and would have done almost anything to save our relationship and save him, but hearing that I was half an inch from having murdered him because I was off my face on vodka was (pardon the pun) sobering. We parted, but it was very hard. He was brilliant and funny and so sexy (the sex was amazing) and I know he felt the same about me. It took me years to not miss him. We both had to be very strong to keep away from each other (and some of that was that we enlisted others to keep us from one another in the end! I think my parents were ready to lock me in the spare bedroom and not let me out til he had moved to Australia).
Thanks to a good family, probably my own intelligence to a certain extent and AA, I got sober and haven’t had a drink for 20yrs. I am married to a wonderful man, have three lovely kids and not a moments hint of a abuse in our domestic set up. My very sensible and lovely husband cannot believe the stories I tell about that relationship because he’s never seen a hint of that version of me. Equally, I have not seen Ben in many years but last time I did he looked unremarkable and was remarried, wearing a pringle jumper and looked like the worlds most boring accountant. Obviously I don’t know what his private life is really like but as far as I know he isn’t in prison and hasn’t made the news. He never had any kids. I suspect that outside of the catalyst of me, he’s as boring as I am without him. Together we were like petrol and a match but with other people I’m petrol and my husband is water and maybe Ben is a match and his new wife is also water. Who knows?
For Ben and I the main problem was booze and a shared problem with it. That may be the case for many people, as may drugs. I was powerless when it came to drink. I have a real problem with it that I can’t control. I will never be able to drink sensibly.
Our saving grace was not having kids and that was because I had a career and didn’t want them yet, but also just good fortune that I didn’t accidentally get pregnant and decide to have the baby. I’m a good mum and my now older kids are nice, normal and well adjusted and have never been abused, but I can’t tell you that if I had had them with a man I was so dangerous with, whilst heavily alcoholic, that I wouldn’t have abused them. I hope that I wouldn’t have, but I almost kicked a man’s head in to the point he died, that’s not really my brand now either, so I think we can safely assume that I might have been an abusive mother in that marriage.
None of that excuses who I was or excuses this boys parents, but normal people can go not normal when with people they spark off of in the wrong way. Alcohol and drugs have a big part to play, as does family dysfunction and family trauma and probably an element of some people just being bad. But the stars all have to be aligned to make these terrible things happen and the truth is that it’s not as simple as one thing, and you can have a bad person with no other elements, who is entirely benign, and a good person with alcohol abuse and trauma who goes on to kill.
There but for the grace of God go I and all that. I don’t know what the answer is, but cases like this do make me count my blessings.