(From Pinterest, original author unknown)
I try to remember that long queues snaking outside the shop have been a normal part of everyday life for millions of people throughout time. The scene feels reminiscent of footage from the Soviet Union back in the 80s, when people didn’t even necessarily know what they were queueing for – you joined the queue and hoped that the food you needed would be there at the end of it. Which essentially was exactly the same situation that I was now in, queueing outside Tesco at 8.30pm, homemade face mask in place, anxiety levels rising and a handy stress-related migraine rapidly building. Trying to follow the newly installed one-way system without missing anything on the list, trying to find alternatives when what we needed wasn’t in stock – no pasta, no rice, no flour, no chicken flavour Super Noodles, trying to maintain the requisite 2m from everyone else… supermarket shopping was stressful enough before Covid19, but it turns out there was a whole new level of pain to overcome.
The stress migraine had largely formed beforehand, with a letter from CMS informing me that they had reversed their original decision and were now ruling in Simon’s favour, judging Lily to no longer be in full time education, so he no longer had to pay maintenance for her. This after he sent false information to the Child Benefits office, telling them that Lily was not in full time education after being expelled from college, ignoring the fact that I was legally home-educating her while she was attending her new college part-time. Having finally won the EHCP we needed to get Lily extra support, she should have now been able to attend full time… except that college was now closed due to the Coronavirus crisis. I had successfully appealed the Child Benefits decision, largely due to the fact that Lily had previously been home educated age 5-8. If that hadn’t been the case, Simon might have been able to get away with it, despite having thrown Lily out and refusing to honour the “equal shared care” Child Arrangements Order that he’d insisted on obtaining. Of course, he’d then tried to use that Order to claim that he retained shared care and shouldn’t have to pay maintenance, but thankfully the CMS ruled against him. Some men will do anything to support their children… others will do anything to get out of paying child support.
With everywhere closed for the Easter Bank Holiday, it was impossible to get any further advice or take action until the following Tuesday, at which point it would be the familiar half hour wait to get through to CMS and explain they’d made their new decision based on false and misleading information. Which meant an entire Bank Holiday weekend of anxiety – would I have to wait 6 months on reduced maintenance in order to put my case to appeal, missing out on almost £2000 of payments? Would Simon have to pay this money back, or would he yet again get away with deliberately misleading the authorities?
Every time you fill in an official form, it makes it clear in BOLD CAPITAL LETTERS that deliberately sending false or misleading information is an offence and could result in a fine or even prison sentence. My experiences have shown this to be a lie. Simon has so far given false and misleading information to the Family Court (during 2 separate cases), CAFCASS, the police, Social Services, Child Maintenance Service (more times than I can count, but I think we’re onto 9 appeals now?) Child Benefits Agency and what would have been Her Majesty’s Courts and Tribunals Service had CMS not already reversed their decision. I’ve been left fighting false accusations and fire-fighting the consequences for six years, while the authorities do nothing to stop him. It’s exhausting and demoralising and has left me begging them to take action. The system simply doesn’t recognise the more insidious forms of domestic abuse and provides no protection. Abusers are able to exploit loopholes – for example the disgusting way that Child Benefit does not take into account the lack of educational provision for autistic teenagers at 16+. Or they refuse to follow court orders, knowing that without any jurisdiction for arrest, there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it unless you have enough money to take them back to court.
Having just fought a battle over student loan repayments, and then Child Benefit payments, all under the shadow of Covid19 and lockdown, I really don’t need yet another battle. I’ve been battling for six years now, I’ve had enough. Simon and Astrid have repeatedly taunted me that I need to “move on” and “get over it” – yet they’re the ones making it impossible for me to do so. “Move on” and “get over it” in this context seem to mean “We want to ignore the court orders, refuse to look after Lily, pay absolutely no child maintenance and continue to abuse you as much as we like, while you just shut up and take it.” Without recourse to Legal Aid to take him back to court – Legal Aid is only paid out for cases of domestic violence in which it can be proved that you have called the police for your own protection, or have been hospitalised or required medical treatment, likely on more than one occasion – there seems to be nothing I can do to make him stop. And as I’ve already discovered, Court is useless when you’re up against someone willing to lie about absolutely everything, and a Court Order is a waste of paper if it doesn’t come with power of arrest.
I got through my shopping while fighting back tears and counting my breaths to avoid panic attacks. I bought myself a large bar of chocolate as some kind of solace; I will emerge from lockdown looking as if a Beluga whale had miraculously learned how to walk. Arriving home, I asked the kids to help unload and pack away, while I collapsed on the sofa with a couple of paracetamol and an emergency glass of Coke, clutching an icepack to my forehead. Naturally they started squabbling, then Lily refused to do the washing up that she should have tackled hours earlier, saying she was “too busy.” Doing what? I wondered, but it turned out to be playing Fortnite. Simon does not have to deal with any of this, I reminded myself. Simon is not having to keep both of us children alive, fed, happy, entertained and educated during this pandemic. Simon has not even bothered to get in touch to see how the kids are doing. People try to make it better by saying “Oh well, he’s the one missing out,” especially as neither of the kids want to see him any more – but the truth is that the kids are missing out, whether that’s missing out on the money they should be entitled to, or missing out on having a mum who isn’t ill or irritable with stress, or missing out on having a loving and supportive father. It sucks, frankly.
Life goes on. Next day, with a headache still hovering around the edges, I find the appeals form online and fill it out, ready to send if I can’t convince the CMS to reverse their decision again on Tuesday. I have stopped taking this personally, I realise. Simon’s shenanigans are now nothing more than an administrative and financial hassle. I’m the one who has actually moved on, while he still lashes out vindictively. Meanwhile Lily miraculously does the washing up without me having to nag her. They both fight over the dodgy flavoured Super Noodles. Ivy tells me about her hamster-related dream and I tell her about mine, involving dating a mysterious violinist captured by gangsters who threatened to cut off his fingers. I sow a few seeds and water the garden, admiring the daffodils I planted in the Autumn. There will be pizza for dinner and an at-home Movie Night. We will get through this. We’ve already been in lockdown for the past six years, we’ve gotten good at surviving.