The worst day you ever had

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Anything goes, even if it doesnt happen in a days time. Just the most unlucky, unfair and all of the Murphys laws combined.

If i start with my todays day, it didnt take all that long and i'm very happy it didnt.
Right, i woke up at 3.20am outside sleeping on the ground. There was this buzzing in my right ear. I tested it a bit with my finger, but it only got worse and after a few seconds it started to bite me. And the constant thumping on my eardrum
I went inside, the doors were locked ( ) and insisted that we call the doctor. My mum said she had a bug in her ear too once and it came out on his own. Well, i didnt want to wait at all, cause the pain was getting worse by the minute and the bashing on the eardrum continued.
We drove to the doctor's where, after a few more minutes, he pulled out a whole grasshopper!
Turned out it was comfortaby walking around on the eardrum (drummer career?) but started to bite the pipe leading to the it when we started to annoy her with blowing into the ear at home.
Needless to say i'm very happy it decided the tissue around the eardrum was more tasty than the drum itself, or i'd be facing partial deafness on my right ear.

Then i go to sleep peacefuly again, only to wake about 3 hours later by the sounds of a dogfight. I ran outside and saw my dog fighting with the neighbours dog. There was no one around, naturaly, so it took a while to seperate them and then the neighbour came to look for his dog. My dog is quite an oldie already, being 11 years of age, with the neighbours dog 7 or 8 iirc. Mine didnt suffer any serious damage it seems when i looked him over later. I couldnt say for the other dog, since it did look pretty bad while they've been at it. They're old rivals, dating back for as long as the other dog lives, so it's no suprise that they've done it again.

Well, this concludes my morning luck. It's 9.27 and if this keeps up, i'll count myself lucky to live the day

Lets hear your story now

EDIT:
I survived that day!!

[ July 06, 2004, 22:35: Message edited by: Gothmog• ]

 

Oh, so many days to pick one from.

I think I'd have to go with the three weeks where my exGF broke up with me at the start of said three weeks, so she could focus on her relationship with her other boyfriend. (of course before these three weeks, things had been going ... not well for about 5 weeks already, so I was pretty stressed out) This was a girl I had fallen completely and madly in love with. For three weeks she played with my emotions in a 'I still love you and want to be with you but can't because my boyfriend might find out' mindgame, up to a grand finale where I spent the night with her and afterwards she gave me the cold shower ***** treatment. Then a few days later her other boyfriend informs me that she and he are breaking up too, because she had slept with a colleague of mine and started an affair with my boss three days after her breakup with me. (both of which had been fully aware of my relationship with her and how it was going) And the cherry on top was that I found out that another coworker of mine, one I had trusted completely and shared everything of those weeks with was aware of their affair from day one, and had been keeping it secret from me for three weeks.

To this day I'm glad the law deterred me as it should, else they'd have been carrying a couple of bodybags out of my workplace. And yet some times, when I look back and am reminded of the pain and humiliation, the thought of It would've been worth it shoots through my mind.

For months I went through life not caring, only living through the pain over and over again. I was like a ghost at my school and internship, doing what I needed to do and nothing more. I didn't know who to trust anymore, not even my closest friends. While I was normally very tolerant and never agressive, I would then take any chance at a fight, tolerating nothing from anyone. I didn't know how to go on. And for months I feared, that if she decided to come back to me, that I would let her into my life again. Oh how I feared that.

Truly, that time was the worst I have had.

 

Truly, the worst day(s) I ever had was almost two years ago, started about seven years ago, but continues even today....

About seven years ago, I found my own brother was using my name, and social as he was being pulled over by 'cops', and since he had no license, MANY bench warrants, felonies, and driving citations, I suppose he felt I needed a few (or more), as I had a clean record at the time....

Almost two years ago, I found he was STILL doing the same thing, but this time, as the 'cops' were not smart enough to realize that even after two identity thefts I reported, and proved was an identity theft, the tickets were not me, I ended up realizing that three weeks prior to having the Department of Transportation revoking my licence since apparently they did not understand what was happening with my record, I could have been arrested if pulled over, and they would not have even had to give me a reason!

Soon after, I spent a lot of time in court (eight court dates in about three months)trying to fight these 'legalists' and clear my name, and this was when I found my brother was ARRESTED under my name and social, which really hurt my permenant record, it seems, even after the court dates, the 'legalists' STILL did not clear my name of the charges on my record, though these same people now knew that it was not me who committed any crime, I guess they still needed my money, go figure....

Lastly, I saved my brother from ten years of prison and was in the process of attempting to forgive him of his ruining of my reputation, and only a few months later he attempted to steal yet again from me!!

All in all, in just one particular day, I lost (by disownment) my brother, a good amount of money and my personal/work time, my reputation with government 'legalists': 'cops' and judges, and for a time, quite a bit of sanity, and gained paranoia of 'cops', judges, and most lawyers, a SEVERLY negative attitude twards their professions, and a broken spirit, which does not seem to be healing very fast....

 

I forgot about the worst day of my life, although I recall there were several. I can, however, tell you about the worst week, which is mostly remembered from #sorcerers logs (yes, I'm that sad).

Anyways - first I went to school because they told us what classes we'll be in. New year and all that. I discovered that I was kicked out of the "smart" class and instead moved into the second best, which pissed me off quite a bit. The next morning, I got my *AHEM* caught in the zipper, and my lunch box disappeared. Later, I had to wake up at 5am in the morning, and my dad got this muy loco idea to move all the computers to the lounge. Then I had to clean my room. And then my testicles started to hurt for no reason at all.

That week bloody well sucked.

 

Hmm, I must have had a happy life because my worst day is nowhere near as bad as any of yours. For me it is still the day I was at Eden Park watching New Zealand blow their chance to win the 1992 Cricket World Cup by somehow managing to lose to Pakistan from a seemingly impregnable position 3/4 through the semi-final and after thrashing everybody on their way to semi-final. For all you non-cricket watchers, this would have been equivalent to, say, Holland winning all their games in the World Cup soccer finals 3-0, then being 4-0 up in the semi-final with 20 minutes to go then losing 4-6. Devastating.

I know that it's not really all that disastrous (compared to the things that can happen to a person) but it's still the worse day I can think of.

 

Let's say "worst week"...because well; while it may have started with a day, the consequences reverberated pretty badly for a week (and actually lasted a good 5 months...)

Actually, all I know about the actual day is what I've been told by friends...and all I know about the night is what the police and witness reports said.

Suffice it to say that I had a drunken encounter with a cop that didn't go well, and resulted in my spending the weekend in custody (jail then prison); getting kicked out of residence (though I appealed and got back in after a few days) and getting my floor don into a car accident that fractured her sternum and left her in unforgiveable pain for a month. Oh, and it almost got me kicked out of uni.

I got out on bail though (it's pretty much guaranteed for young offenders here) but was under the conditions for a good five months before I finished the diversion program that got me off the hook.

And it cost me more than I like to think about (though I got lucky and hired a student-at-law rather than a full-fledged lawyer; so it only cost me 1/3 as much as a real lawyer...)

So I now harbour a serious dislike for municipal police...and a distrust of cops in general. Since the entire incident occurred when an overzealous cop thought he'd be cool by picking up a semi-conscious drunk and pushing him around; figuratively at first, but when he tried snatching my wallet out of my back pocket without provocation, and I resisted, the pushing became quite physical. I'll not annoy anyone with any more details. Bleh.

 

Mine came when I was 17, it was the first time I had a friend die, except she wasn't just a friend, we had been going out for over a year. It was tough because she had moved from the town we both lived in to another town 2 hours away. The story was that she and her older brother were driving home from a Christmas dance at their school. When a drunk driver ran a stop sign and t-boned thier car. She was killed pretty much instantly and her brother is a parapelegic now.

I arrived home from a hockey practice to answer the phone and it was her father. He explained everything to me, and then he just broke down. I didn't know what to say or do, so I jst stood silent on the phone for close to 20 minutes. After that I packed some clothes, and jumped in my car and drove the two hours to them, and crashed in the hospital with the family. The worst part about it all was when the man who had been driving the other car was being escorted from the hospital by the police, all that had really happened to him was bmnps and bruises, a busted up arm and broken ribs.

The following days were really hard I just walked around feeling kinda of wierd I didn't really know how to feel. The following weekend was her funeral and I had a couple of hockey game. The game were really hard, because they just didn't seem to matter.

Since then I've have 6 more friends die and it still isn't and easier.

 

Was in Ireland, had to get on the train home, long train journey. Got on, fell asleep and woke up the other side of Ireland. This unfortunately was the last train so I had to get out of the train and sleep in the waiting room all night where I had a drinks machine and a chocolate machine to keep me company except I had no money or change. So I woke up starving and had to wait 3 hours for the train back.

So anyway, I had no money and no phone, all I had were cigarettes (thank god) and my ticket from the day before. I knew that if the ticket inspector seen my ticket he would kick me off but there was this trick everyone used, I wait until the next stop, get off and run down the bottom end of the platform so I am behind the ticket inspector and get back on. So I got back on, about 2 hours later I started to get worried, I was sure I should be in my home town by then, I asked someone how long before we reach my home town and he said ah man you are on the wrong train. I got off the train immediately then and got fed up of waiting for another so I thought I would find a main road and hitch my way home.

I hitched all over the place before; it is very common to do so in Ireland and I was sure I would be home in a matter of hours. Didn't bump into anyone on my way; it was a very secluded part of the country so it took a long time for me to find the right direction. At this stage I was very hungry, very thirsty and very tired. Eventually a car stopped and I got in, gave me a lift to the next major town where he was heading. I got into the town and found my way to the next main road, I couldn't tell exactly which way to go but I had a fair idea of which direction. I spent another hour on the roadside hitching, I was falling to pieces.

I felt like giving up and dying there and then. Next it started raining, not a little bit though it was more like a storm or whatever. This was the last thing I wanted because you see if you are wet then people wont stop for hitchhikers because your clothes are wet. I thought I might as well just start walking and hitching every time I see a car, eventually someone had to stop. No such luck, it was getting dark but the raining had stopped thankfully. My legs were getting tired though, very tired. All I had around me was fields and a long road that went on for ever and ever. I came to a crossing and there was a house, I knocked on the door and someone answered thank god, I asked them if I could use the phone and they let me but were a bit unwelcoming. I rang home immediately but there was no answer. I told them what happened and they asked where I was going, bastards didn’t offer to help just pointed me in the right direction. Nasty bastards, I was furious.

I was in the pitch black and there were no cars about. So I just carried on until I couldn't go on anymore. I jumped over a gate and went down to sleep in this field. I don't think I got much sleep though, I woke up in the middle of the morning, and the one side of me was covered in dirty mud where I had been sleeping. I just got up and carried on hoping I would see a car or come to a town. Eventually a car came from behind, I put my thumb out and he stopped immediately, Jesus Christ he said, what happened to you? I got in and told him what had happened and he looked at me and laughed. Said he would take me back to his house and let me use his phone. He got back to his house, and there was this old lady there, she was really nice to and made me something to eat and drink, I was delighted. I got on the phone and got an answer at home thank god. The guy let me stay there with the old lady while he went to work. Eventually someone come to pick me up, god it seemed like months I was waiting, I was still miles and miles away from my home town. Well that is about the worst few days of my life. God, it took me weeks to recover from it.

 

I'll have to say the worst day I've had was the day divorce papers were served against me. I don't remeber much of the day, but I did get pulled over doing 80mph in a 45mph speed zone. The police officer was nice and did not give me a ticket, probably because I was a hair away from a nervous breakdown.

 

wow... Never had any of such experiences. My worst day is truly not that bad. I relativise everything, with a 'that sucks for me'-attitude.

There was this once, where the police picked me up after I came back from a party all drunk, lying on the middle of the street, throwing up in the police car, and such... but that was far from my worst day, since it was fun, although it could've ended a lot differently.

 

15 January 2001

For reasons known only to myself

[ July 08, 2004, 12:26: Message edited by: Shell ]

 

Don't know why I'm telling this...I've never been a person who tells a lot of personal details on the Internet. I worry as I type this wondering if I am making a mistake telling this story but I was touched by the honesty of some of the posts in this topic so here goes...

My worst day...April of 2002. Maybe should say the worst month. It was my last year of High School and I was looking forward to graduation and going to my senior prom with my high school sweetheart that I thought the world revolved around. My parents don't have a lot of money so buying a prom dress was just not going to happen.

My Grandmother being the kind of strong and caring person she was took it upon herself to make me one from scratch. Scary yes, because I worried about how she could make something that could look as well as what you could find in a store. I also didn't want her to go through the agony of the sewing knowing how arthritic her hands were at her age. I told her try her best if it didn't work out I would love her just the same.

Time passed as the night of the prom approached. I had noticed subtle changes in my boyfriend's personality but he was always somewhat moody so I never really worried much about it. It was Thursday night, two days before the prom. I came home from school as usual and Grams and mom were in the living room waiting for me to come home. My mom was smiling ear to ear so I knew something was up. Grams came over to me and gave me a soft hug and handed me a huge box. I don't even remember opening it now but I remember at the time being afraid I wouldn't like it and she would see the disappointment in my eyes. I opened the box...I couldn't belive it. Inside was the most beautiful baby blue dress I had ever seen. I was moved to tears at the work she must of put in to finish the dress in less than a month. I swear if I had hugged her any harder I would of broken her in half.

Saturday afternoon came. I was looking forward to the prom. My boyfriend calls. He sounded weird and I had known from the past that he had been drinking by the way he was acting. He assured me not to worry just him and his buddies doing a little drinking and he would be fine by the prom. I believed him. God how love is blind and hindsight is 20/20. I went on and fixed my hair and makeup and slid into that handmade dress. I have to admit I looked so beautiful in it or just for that night maybe I felt like the most beautiful girl on the planet.

Seven PM rolls around. Time for my boyfriend to show up. I felt relieved to hear the sound of his car pulling up the driveway to our farm. All was right with the world. He stopped in front of the house. Blew his horn instead of his usual just coming in the house. I wondered why he wouldn't come in cause he knew my parents wanted to take our picture together all dressed up. I sent my little sister out to tell him to come in but she came back and said he needed to talk to me. I walked out to the car and let me say I was at least ten feet from his car and I could smell the alcohol before I ever got to him. He was totally drunk. On top of it the whole car smelled like pot. Since my father is a minister I couldn't tell him what was going on so I made up some excuse about being late and he had to pick up my corsage and I promised my parents that we would buy pictures at the prom and I was sorry.

I no sooner got in the car then he started. "Don't know why you want to go to this stupid f'n prom. Your makeup looks like crap. Don't know why I even spend any of my time with you." Trust me that was the mild stuff. I was devastated. Here the guy that I based my whole self worth on and admired and at that time... LOVED; Trashed me endlessly till i cried. Still I wanted his company and aproval so much that I would take anything he could say to me. On the way to the lodge where the prom was held we stopped at a liquor store where while he was getting more gin I helped him get dressed and combed his hair and considering how messed up he was he still looked good in his tux.

We got to the prom. I helped him park the car cause i was afraid he would hit someone. I put my arm around him to make it look like we were walking together but I was actually leading him inside. We got inside found us a table with some friends. My friends knew something was wrong so like girls do we went to the powder room where they helped me fix my makeup from where I was crying. They all supported me and told me how beautiful I was but how could I be beautiful when the man I adored the most told me I wasn't.

Getting back to the prom he held up pretty good till he started with the drinking again. It was still early I prayed and hoped it could still be a magical night like I had dreamed about for the whole month. We made it through the taking pictures. I was so happy. I found out I was nominated for prom queen and I was so afraid I wasn't pretty enough or good enough to be the queen cause his words just stuck in my mind like daggers. Well needless to say in real life there are no happy endings. He became too drunk to even slow dance and the chaperones and principal came to our table because he became a loud drunk. Needless to say after a few f you principal and f you sheriffs deputy he was thrown out and so my time at the prom ended maybe an hour and a half after I got there.

I know this is a long story and I wish it ended there but it didn't. I left with him and we drove around in the dark April rain not saying much. He asked me if I hated him I told him no i cared deeply for him but i was concerned about him. He went into a rage saying "shut up b____ if I wanted to take my mom to the prom i would of asked her!" I became afraid at that moment. Why so long into the night it took me but I was for the first time totally afraid of the man I cared about. He pulled onto a country road and I asked him what he was doing and where was he going. I had never been to this part of the county before. He told me he was drunk that he didn't want to get pulled over by a policeman for DUI so we would take the back roads home. I was terrified of him at this point. Maybe after about ten minutes of driving in the country he stopped. Told me he needed to throw up. We stopped he got out of the car for a few minutes. Maybe to use the bathroom I don't really know. He got back in the car. He sat there just staring at me. Told me. "Honey you were the most beautiful girl there...I want to do you tonight." I thought Jesus how romantic how could i be so freaking blind for the last six months. I told him no. He started hitting the dashboard with his fists and screamed "either you do it with me or I'll leave your ass here in the middle of f'n nowhere" I said I'll take the country and got out of the car in the muddy road with my prom dress and shoes that sunk down in the mud. I just remember starting to walk and it began to rain. I was so mad at him. Suddenly the car came forward and hit me in the rear end. He thought it was so funny playing chicken revving the engine then coming at me. I couldn't get off the road cause it was a hillside. I remember hearing the engine rev up and pain. I woke up lying over the embankment barely able to breathe in total darkness.

The drunken idiot had hit the gas instead of the brake and knocked me completely out of my shoes and over the hill. Then it hit me. He had left me. Later he said he had panicked and went for help. I don't know how i did it. I crawled up the hill to the road on my knees. I couldn't catch my breath and i tasted blood in my mouth. I didn't know what direction to go. There were no lights no houses no place to get my feeling to find a place to go. I don't know how far I walked. Seemed like hours probabably wasn't more than three miles but I found a farm and I collapsed on the porch after ringing their bell. I told them I needed help but they were old and afraid and wouldn't come outside. They handed me the cordless phone and I called home but mom and dad were gone and the only one there was my younger brother who was just a sophomore in high school. He finally after about an hour found me and took me to the hospital. The ribs on my left side had punctured my lung.

My brother went bezerk. He drove to my boyfriends house. Waited for him to come home and beat him so badly that he almost died. His parents sued my parents over the beating. My little brother spent three days in jail. While I was in the hospital on the Wednesday I was to get out they brought my Grams to the hospital she later died that day of a stroke. I lost my boyfriend, prom night, dress, grandmother, my parents had to sell some land to get an attorney, and my brother spent time in jail all within the same week. All he got was a five hundred dollar fine for leaving the scene of an accident and 100 hours of community service.

 

Well...that beats my bad day. Um...yeah.

 

my worst day was when my good friend Zandan got stabbed 5 feet in front of me in the leg. Stupid ****ing racist bastard stabbed him in the leg because he was black. The blade severed an artery and his head was in my lap until he died. The murderer didnt get anything done to him. He lives six blocks from my house and isnt even on parole.

 

Thank you ,Beren. You are very right every time I think about it, it still hits me hard, probably more so since I was there.

 

Phew. There really are some bad stories here. Luckily I've been saved from any serious incidents that would pain me for more than a few months at best. Had 2 ex friends die but they weren't the sort of people I ever really missed.

My worst day revolved around me only. And as cliché as this may sound, it was while in the army.

Many claimed the last camps / marches etc were far worse than the first ones. To me it's completely the opposite. In finland the rookiee training takes about 2 months. In the end of those 2 months there's the first real "military camp". There I had the worst day of my life.

It wasn't a single day though, more a culmination of several days' effects before it.

It started on me getting a flu. Lying in hospital for the better part of a week. I got out of the hospital on thursday. On saturday we would embark on the camp. Since I've always been bigger than normal people, I was given a whole lot of stuff to carry when we loaded the trucks on friday. Took the whole day, basically. On saturday morning I noticed my muscles all around my upper torso and arms specifically were aching a bit, but I thought no more of it.

When in the camp, we made all the usual stuff, put the tents up and prepared the defensive positions, made the holes for... well you know what people do in the army. Hard work whole day. The night then our sergeants etc decided on one very asslicking kinda guy to make the list for who would watch the fire, do the guarding rounds etc. Well naturally he put himself first so he could sleep 6-7 hours straight. I was among those who had like 2 of 3-hour shifts during the night. Not only was it the sort of weather where you have +0 degrees and rain and -10 degrees hard cold wind every other hour, also I had the exclusive luck to find my bunk in the only huge waterspot in the tent. Water melted out of the snow under the tent making it extremely cold. All my clothes save the reserve ones in a plastic bag got wet, I myself had to try and sleep on the wood we used to make the fire with. All in all, when I woke up I had got less than 30 minutes of sleep, my clothes hadn't dried up, I'd slept in the only possible position, and that put all of my bodyparts in pain.

Then, thanks to my extra special body that secretes sweat far more than a normal person does when under physical pressure, during the runs on the day (it then got colder, around -15 degrees celcius) all of my only clothes got wet as well.

Well let's jump ahead a bit. Thanks to many reasons I couldnt dry my clothes, and although the next night we had leaves etc placed under the tent so I no longer had to sleep in a pool of water, the guard shifts were still the same. By this point the pain in my arms and chest was such that I had to wake up every 30 minutes to do some physical excercise in order to push back the pain that came when I let my limbs hang limp. I'd broken someone's glasses by accident and 3 pieces of cloth (hat etc) had been stolen from me. The past flu that I'd had certainly had its toll on me as well.

This went on so that during the next tuesday when we had our first shooting while moving excercise, I'd gotten around 4-5 hours of sleep since saturday morning. There's a law that says when people go to a shooting range, they must have slept at least 6 hours during the night before. My feet were raisins where skin was starting to peel off from all the wetness, wetness caused by small plastic bags I had to use to separate the cold wet socks from my feet (without exchange socks I sweat one pair full in a very short time with the amount of moving we did in the army) in order to retain the temperature in that cold. My arms were in such point that I had to move around a bit all the time, which made them extremely tired but kept off the pain. My vision was mainly a blur and I didn't have much ability to think or concentrate anyway. Skipped the last few meals thanks to our group being late and me last on the line carrying some stuff or other.

So anyway, that was the state I was in, and it was our first time when we went to a track where you're using real bullets and you're supposed to hold your fire when your partner crosses it etc. I knew the people who should be resonsible of things gone right knew exactly how they had in reality been going. So I thought if I shoot someone then what the heck, I didn't care at that point. Miraculously though I could draw enough sanity and sheer power of focus to hold on during that excercise. My only thought, as we dashed forward, was to keep focusing on my friend and NOT shoot when he crossed the line of fire. Literally the only thought I could muster.

That night, when we got our last meal for the day, and I was sitting leaning against a tree, visibly shivering from the cold with a blank stare on my face, one of the guys I'd never really gotten that well along with came to me and and consoled me. It was this surprising gesture of his that made me realise something. That I had broken. This is undoubtedly the worst day I remember in my life. It didn't take more than perhaps a minute or two, but during those minutes I was in a state of complete ignorance, I had given up. Not given up because I didn't care. Given up because I had no energy. My mind, and my body, had worn out of all that it had. I was empty.

All it was, was one easy Finnish army. Sure the amount of my sleep up until then was a fraction of what the others had had, and they didn't get much either. Sure I had (as I later got to know) my muscles along my upper torso infected (if that's the right word in English). My feet were mush. And I belive I got a light hypothermia there as well. And food was scarce. But still, never in my life before had I broken. Pissed off or sad, but not really broken. It was a realisation, a feeling, that I never knew even existed.

The next day we had a footmarch home from there. Even though my feet were in the condition they were in, even though our medic took a look at them finally and decided I should take a truck back, I needed to do the march. Surely it wasn't easy in itself, but it was kid's play compared to the psychological breakdown I had experienced.

After that, I've always held that image in mind. That one time my psyche gave up on everything. While I'm despised with that weakness I never knew was in me, it has served to educate me on many things. The thing I'm glad of, is that after that camp, several people experienced the same reaction on other much worse camps while I didn't even come close.

That tuesday was the worst day in my life. But because of it, every day after it has been a bit better, I believe.

Still, matters would have been different had there been external motivations such as friends, family and loved ones involved. They matter most to me, without question. And I have immense respect for those who have survived their loss.

[ July 15, 2004, 09:07: Message edited by: Foradasthar ]

 

Well, there's been a lot of bad stuff happen which I won't go into too much, just enough to say that not having a father from about age 5 and being despised by females until age 20 as well as all the usual rubbish that comes from being bullied severely as a daily ritual all amounted to stuff I just didn't deal well with.

But, possibly the 2 worst days of my life happened just a couple of weeks ago and each event took only a matter of minutes. They were only fairly small events yet they were the most heartbreaking things for me.

The first was 2 weeks ago yesterday, I was in the local shopping mall on the escalator/travelator going up to the next floor when my ex, her new man and my 2 and a half year old got on the other side to come down. My son didn't see me which in a way was a good thing because it meant there was no chance of a 'scene' being caused, but the worst of it was that due to the falsely-based AVO, I could not even caal out to him and all I wanted right then was to reach out and pick him up and tell him that his daddy loves him and misses him very much. Nearly burst into tears right then but I had to put on a brave face so that my ex wouldn't know how badly she was torturing me.

The second event was 12 days ago when I'd gone down to Sydney to see my almost-7-year-old. I sat and waited at the appointed time and place (10am at a McDonalds outlet) for his mother to bring him to me, thinking there was no way she'd even show up. She did though. Mind you she didn't stop. She drove in with my son's head plainly visible to me, looked at me and ignored me, went into the drive-thru, got what they wanted and left. So close and yet so far.

I have never felt so powerless in all my life.