Voices and Hallucinations
At this point, I never called the woman who abused me, I never called her an abuser. I always thought of her as a tormentor, because she tormented my mind. What began to happen was, my wife then became my tormentor. She loved the flash lifestyle we’d now got but we had three young children so she’d want me at home as well. So I’d be working late, you know, and she would be saying to me ‘you’re a crap father’ and ‘your kids never see you’. So I guess in some ways I was getting subliminal messages because the voices were coming back tenfold and it was kind of saying your kids are being abused. These were the subliminal messages I was getting. But I’d not told her about the abuse, so I couldn’t come home and say ‘are my kids getting abused?’ so it got really confusing and I got really paranoid.
I would think people were following me in cars and there was a film – Nightmare on Elm Street – with the Freddy Kruger character – and I would see him in the back of the van. He used to haunt me. I would pull over and I would be chucking all the packaging out, and other cars couldn’t get past, and I was saying ‘F off! I’m looking for Freddy Kruger!’ And I would be breaking the ariels off and throwing them at the other cars and my behavior was really spiraling out of control. To the point where my wife rang me and said - 'You’ve probably not realized but the kids are in school full time. I want something to do. We’ve got plenty of money, plenty of space – why don’t we foster a child?' And she arranged for a social worker to come and see us, and what should of taken me 30 minutes to drive home actually took me 3 hours because if I saw someone I thought I knew, I would drive in a different direction. I was really really paranoid about the whole of society. I eventually got home, and I will never forget this social worker – she was an elderly lady – a very small lady, and she was in the front room. She was wearing a red coat and a black beret. And as I walked into the room I was bombarded by voices. More than I have every heard before. They kept saying - 'that’s a man dressed up as a French spy. Get him out of here!' So I turned and walked out the room and my wife asked me what was wrong and I said ‘that’s a man dressed up as a French spy, get rid of them’. So my wife asked her to leave, and the lady said ‘why do you want me to leave, you’ve invited me into your home?’ and my wife said ‘well my husband thinks you’re a man, and a French spy’. So you can imagine there was no way we could foster kids after comments that that.