Merrin contacted me with the help of her support coordinator and joins me online from a regional town near the country’s capital. She describes herself as happy-go-lucky and even through the screen, she emanates her positive, laidback nature. She is all smiles and chat. She meets with me because the recent years have been tough. Much like the other women in the study, Merrin is interested in having her voice heard to benefit others who find themselves in a similar position. She is a big believer in solidarity among women, and she relates her struggle to that of women everywhere. A woman in her forties with First Nations and German heritage, Merrin references her spirituality throughout the conversation. It informs her attitude to life. It allows her to accept and process the removal of children from her care and the long road of stroke recovery. While she doesn’t work, Merrin enjoys social group activities and has interests to get her through the days, such as art: ‘I'm trying to get in with water colours… you have to let them flow, water flows wherever it wants to go. So, [I’m sort] of trying to learn that again, you know, [so] my mind's not going 100K's.’ She is renting a place for victims of domestic violence, a house where she lives independently with daily support workers. While Merrin had NDIS funding from the time she left hospital, she did not have support workers straight away. After being forced to leave the family home, Merrin was staying at a women’s shelter, where the staff linked her with her current support coordinator. Support workers come and go each day, assisting Merrin to get to appointments, and to communicate. Merrin appears to have a high level of understanding, considering each question and developing her responses, however, she has some difficulty organising information. ‘…you're trying to get something across just for an example, trying to get something across and you feel like you're not getting across… And you feel like it's stumbling and you're trying to do the best you can as a person. But yeah, gets lost in on the line with people that don’t. Yeah, that won't understand unless they've been in that situation.’
Merrin had a stroke five years ago. This led to an extended stay in hospital and physical rehabilitation after being released. She continues to experience impacts on both physical and cognitive functioning, which can be frustrating. ‘[Medical staff] couldn't really give me many answers at that time [of the stroke], Brontё. It was all up in the air. It was a big question mark because the massive stroke I had shouldn't have really, I shouldn't be here today… I thought, well, when you hear the words, you just think, I'm gonna be determined to drive. I'm gonna be better than I was yesterday.’ Merrin and her husband of 15 years, Jake, had been planning to get a divorce, but the stroke caused delays; the stroke ‘beat me before I got the divorce and that just then held that just delayed everything for him.’ Stress, leading to high blood pressure, was a contributing factor toward the stroke. There had been financial pressures. Merrin tried to maintain a stable environment for the children at home; ‘I think as a mum, I knew I had to be there for my kids’. She managed parenting around Jake’s moods, but there was the feeling of ‘walking on eggshells with him’ as his behaviour became increasingly controlling. She describes feeling unsupported, unable to connect, and that the impacts of emotional abuse were as significant as if there had been physical violence. ‘I love my emotions. I sit in my emotions. I love seeing people, how they feel about themselves, about emotions. But this man just didn't show me anything. He couldn't. He was just very controlling, verbally. More mentally with trying to control every situation’. Despite the pressures at home, Merrin felt she had to hide what was happening: ‘us mothers… you keep it quiet. You keep it quiet. Even the DV people have told me that you'll keep it quiet and see.’ We talk about that time in hospital, following the stroke. Merrin shows me an image of her in the bed, eyes closed, adorned in hospital robe, tubes, monitors. Two primary school aged children look on from the bedside, one with a hand on his mother. Behind them, a man stands over. To Merrin, it symbolises the uncertainty of the time: ‘I see two kids are wondering if their mother's gonna get through this.’ It symbolises the power and control of the man, standing over. ‘I don't see their emotion there. Like there's two little souls there. Like they want their mum. They don't know how to respond. And then there's this man towering.’ It is also foreboding, as the months and years to come would see the rift between Merrin and her children grow even wider. After the stroke and divorce, Merrin felt she had to prove her credibility as a mother: ‘that was the worst thing. Probably because I felt like I had to suck it up, but basically, I had to then recover quick enough so I could be there for my kids. And I'm like, Oh my God, I can't even walk. I can't really move that quick around and so, I guess, too, it felt like… He just wanted that control.’ Her children are no longer in her care as family assumed she wouldn’t be capable of looking after them. She reluctantly accepts them living with others; ‘I just thought it was best, that I didn't wanna put too much conflict in their minds about things’. But their removal is also a form of discrimination, she notes ‘I’m here today to speak up’ about the assumption that women with disability lack capability to care for others. She would love to see them, but they are still in her heart, she says. ‘I know that the two strong kids that [I] have, they [are] getting through life like as much as they can. But they do still need their mother. You know, I’m still here. Hello!’ Everything Merrin has done has been for the benefit of her children. This had been extremely difficult for her emotionally, but her understanding of what it means to be a woman and her ability to find resilience through life’s challenges have allowed her to move forward. ‘I think I knew I had to sacrifice my own love for my kids and give them what they needed. Like what was best for them, because I still needed to heal. I still needed to recover from a stroke. Very hard emotionally, but I think we somewhere in our hearts and somewhere as women we know how to overcome that, you know, we know how to move along. We know how to do it as much as we don't want to, but if we get into a situation, I think we know what's best for [our children’s] well-being.’ Like many women, Merrin was misidentified as a perpetrator and issued with an AVO. She had no disability or legal support during her interactions with police. She attended the family home and a neighbour rung the police. ‘Me being too honest, I said, ‘look, I had come out [in] anger and I had breached the AVO’.
On reflection, Merrin has learnt from her experiences and feels better able to recognise signs of abuse; ‘…in the time I went sat in the courts, I watched a lot of relationships come and go and a lot of it had to do with the mental manipulation.’ Merrin saw within the couples that came through, signs of emotional abuse perpetrated by men. She lamented abuse against women still occurring in 2023. She considers the societal pressures on men to act and to be a certain way in the world, leading to increased challenges to mental health, and the women who are trying to support them through this. It is a compassionate stance, as Merrin stops short of placing responsibility on men for how they choose to respond to the mental health challenges. The children now live with Jake and his mother, though she doesn’t know exactly where they are all the time. Jake drives trucks for a living, spending periods away from the home; ‘I went through the agreements with the courts and with him just to say, look just as long as you’re there as a father because you’ve been away for so long… you need, give them, give them your time’. Merrin wishes she could have her babies back, as she says, ‘this wasn’t planned’. While her children are not in her care, the instinct to nurture and care for them endures; ‘you sort of feel helpless’.
Through the challenges brought by rehabilitation, relocating, new supports and routines, Merrin has found opportunities for growth; ‘all of a sudden everything's different again and you're like oh, so you're always learning.’ She had to become independent again and quickly. While she is happy in her independence, it has not always been easy. It has taken intensive rehabilitation and retraining her mind, leading her to value the ‘beautiful minds’ we all have. Self-efficacy features heavily in her belief system: ‘You can go through the shit and then you can come out. Looking, you know, at least trying the best you can. Only yourself can do that. You know what I mean? Only [you] can put yourself there and get yourself through it all’. She also holds a strong sense of solidarity with other women, and feminist critique of her own life and society. This is demonstrated through a 1975 poem written for Women’s Liberation Broadsheet. ‘We're still living in the 1950s in ways… ‘men are kind of dictat[ing] how you should be a woman.’ The poem highlights enduring misogynistic tropes and rigid gendered stereotypes which still exist today. Merrin believes the tables are turning for women, slowly, but still, we are not being heard: ‘[Scream] it to the top of our lungs and say, look, it's about time… I think it needs to be [voiced].’ This is particularly true for women with disability, as they also experience disability-based discrimination. To this, Merrin adds she loves herself as she is today, as a person with disability.
Merrin shows a photo of her leading a horse through a sandy arena. The sky is a vibrant, clear blue. She explains this is part of her therapy, to be around animals, regain confidence and strength, learn to trust again. ‘There was a bit of a obstacle course that I had to go through. So it's trust, really. I've gotta trust this big 800 kg horse (laughs)’. For Merrin, the photo reminds her that, five years ago, she never thought she would get this far. It is a testament to her attitude towards life’s challenges, constantly pushing forward, with a smile. ‘We know how to do it as much as we don't want to’.
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