Not only am I guilty of a domestic murder, but to my greater shame I have been an expert manipulator and manoeuvred myself into the position of victim on more than one occasion. I was also able to rationalise this to myself – I was wilfully blind to the fact that I was concocting a pre-meditated defence through passive-aggressive behaviours.
I won’t use my partners’ behaviours as an excuse – I can only address my own – but suffice to say that at any time that I felt abused I could and should have ended a relationship. Instead, in a childish and pedantic interpretation of literal law – if I acted second I was covered because that counted as ‘self-defence’. I was following a dogmatic version of these ‘rules’, following the words of the law while I was pissing all over the spirit of self defence.
In my twisted logic I believed that when my partner was the first to shout, slam doors, break things or become physically abusive it demeaned their opinion. I could either dismiss their argument or their behaviour would open the door for me to retaliate proportionally. I can’t believe that I was able to justify this to myself – I guess it was another case of me protecting myself from having to admit that I was being abusive. But if I felt that I was in the wrong I would resort to being dismissive, patronising, goading or demeaning – whatever it would take to infuriate my partner. If (when) they lost their cool I would throw my hands in the air and either storm out or retaliate.
During my sentence I have completed a number of therapeutic interventions, including the ‘Healthy Relationships’ CBT programme. Over a period of some 20 weeks I attended around 80 group sessions with 9 other men that had been convicted of offences relating to serious domestic abuse. We were expected to speak openly about our offences, to examine the beliefs and triggers that led to our abusive behaviours, and to design new ways of coping with any future stresses that we might face. The programme involved role-playing abusive situations from our past – then replay them using our newly learned techniques. It was a really difficult process – but if I was even remotely inclined to feel sorry for myself I merely remembered why I was there. I had murdered my partner, so really my discomfort counted for naught.
Some of the men struggled with the format, some refused to accept that they had done anything wrong. I was fortunate that one other man on the group was as determined as I was to engage fully with the programme and we pushed each other throughout (in fact he was released from prison 4 years ago and has made a great success of his life). This process made me take full and unconditional responsibility for my actions and it is only then that I could really start to see behind the curtain – to understand where my violence had come from.
But during one group session I described a scenario where I had been dismissive and demeaning to my partner until she lost her temper and threw an ashtray across the room, sending it smashing against a wall. I had risen to my feet, looking shocked and disappointed before I announced ‘Well there’s no point in talking to you when you’re all emotional like this!’ I had grabbed my coat and headed off out for a few beers – and I felt like I held the moral high ground – what a wanker?
But each and every one of the 9 men in that group could relate – they all had examples from their past where they had used the same technique to avoid an argument or conversation that they didn’t want to be part of. Some of the men admitted that they too had goaded their partners into striking first so they could claim self defence.
And perhaps that is the most significant aspect of the CBT group courses. The lessons were often best received from peers. For many men facing behavioural courses they use the inexperience of facilitators as an excuse not to engage. I have heard this line multiple times, “Why should I speak to you? You came from a nice home, had university paid for and now you come in here to teach me? You know nothing about my life or what I’ve been through.”
However, to my deep shame and regret, I am an authority on domestic abuse. Accusations of inexperience or being unable to relate just don’t wash with me. I am deeply ashamed of my actions – but I have owned them and will candidly discuss my behaviours with others. It is my hope that I might be offered a forum to speak about the many mistakes I have made, perhaps in schools or in behavioural or support groups. I am certain that by sharing the evolution of my abusive behaviours I can help some people to avoid following in my footsteps.
