Fighting the Flashbacks

I've been keeping myself busy working with a friend to develop a business plan for his small business; something to return the favor he did me by being there for me - pretty much a complete stranger then - for more than a year when I was a wreck emotionally and physically. We've been moving his things from one house to another, something that would have been impossible for me a year ago - physically, if not emotionally.
He acknowledged that a year ago, I could hardly walk.

A neighbor turned to me a couple of days ago and asked if I realized what I sounded like when I slept: that I was calling out, rolling back and forth, and choking out shouts to my ex? - I apologized for what they'd seen. I knew I was going through the flashbacks again, but didn't realize they were making me put on such a show when I just drifted off for a nap.
She looked at me, and asked, "Did you know what you were doing the first year?"
I had to admit, "No, not really."
"Were you looking for her to come fix it?", she asked.
"I suppose I was."
I kept hoping, just barely letting myself think of it, that someone - in her family, her friends, or even the police or courts - would realize that what she was doing was cruel, even inhuman; that someone would stop her; make her realize what a sick thing she was doing for no reason. It makes me laugh painfully now, but even she admitted she had no grounds for what she planned. It made no difference. She knew the brutish prejudices of her country well.
And once she turned to an attorney, there was no turning back.

You have to wonder if at some point she realized what a horrid example she set for her children. Maybe that example is the crass, cynical way she taught them? I have no idea. Someday, Australia will be behind me. Despite the friends I've made here, I will never forget those two years of abuse, and what happened afterwards.

Thinking about it, the realization came to me that I was not alone in those feelings. Many of the men I'd met and talked to seemed to have similar expectations hidden in their words and feelings.
For me, these feelings have become emotional flashbacks that rake tears from my eyes for weeks during a certain period each year. The feelings sit just below the surface, viscerally beneath my skin, ready to drive my mind into a painful blankness while my body shakes. I wonder how many other men have the same feelings but are unwilling or unable to talk about them?
From the 50-or-so men that I have met, I would say tens if not hundreds of thousands across Australia.


I try to keep my mind and self occupied during these times, but it only works on the surface. Any time I try to rest or relax, the emotional trauma comes out.
There is nothing decent, fair, or right in what happened two years ago. But it does illustrate the shallow brutality of the law. As much as the abuse from my ex and her family was wrong; the further abuse I endured from the Australian legal system was at least as wrong.

There is a story about Victorian Legal Aid sending out letters from the phone book accusing 5 men of fathering a 12 yr old child. One of the letters went to a 15 yr old boy; who would have been 3 at the time of conception. The public pretense is that this is a singular mistake, but based on my experience with Victorian Legal Aid, it would be characteristic of the ethics of that organization, the Victorian courts and police.
So characteristic, in fact, that my ex confidently threatened to use the raw prejudice in the system for months while I was painfully crippled and disabled, then executed her extortion successfully despite being exposed by me repeatedly to VLA.
This blatant prejudice and its illegal use are supported actively by the Attorney General of Victoria, Rob Hulls. I must assume for political reasons.

One of the stories in the news is that cynicism damages the heart. How can anyone avoid cynicism in a place where such people administer the law?