Donald Campbell set the world water speed record on my hometown’s lake (Lake Dumbleyung) in the Great Southern Region of Western Australia, 250km’s South East of the capital city of Western Australia, Perth.
Dumbleyung Lake received world recognition when Donald Campbell broke the world water speed record on it on 31 December 1964, travelling at 444.66 km/h (276.3 mph) in his boat Bluebird K7. A granite memorial to Campbell can be seen at Pussy Cat Hill, a prominent feature and vantage point to view the entire lake area
Donald Malcolm Campbell CBE (23 March 1921 — 4 January 1967) was a British speed record breaker who broke eight absolute world speed records on water and on land in the 1950s and 1960s. He remains the only person to set both world land and water speed records in the same year (1964). http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Donald_Campbell
This is from a series of videos I am doing on my Metal Detecting, Relic and Antique Bottle Hunting and Digging and also My scrap metal collecting which I do to survive to put food on my table, to pay my bills and to hopefully use one day to save my house from the evil clutches of Bank Reposession … this video also contains clips of my collecting and saving precious items from being destroyed, crushed and destroyed by the Evil Dumbleyung Shire Council
More about the evil Shire of Dumbleyung coming soon … but see the very below video about the Nippering and Dumbleyung Cemetary.
See this video on me at the Dumbleyung Cemetary and you’ll see what the Shire of Dumbleyung are a bunch of assholes.
In the next few days I will be uploading a video about my efforts to get the Dumbleyung Cremation Ashes Wall fixed, how the Shire of Dumbleyung ignores my plea’s and how and why the Shire of Dumbleyung treat me like a piece of shit because I am a whistle blower and a complainer all for the sake of the love of my Father and for the safety of the people of Dumbleyung and the Shire of Dumbleyung / Kukerin’s Council Workers.
People please feel free to offer a complaint to the CEO of the Shire of Dumbleyung to email@example.com in regards to the Dumbleyung aka Nippering Nieche Cremation Wall getting fixed
Over the last two years I have wrote numerous letters the the Shire of Dumbleyung and its town Councillors to resolve this issue and to get the Cremation Wall fixed… yet they simply ignore my emails.
Now… if a family of a Dumbleyung Pioneering Farming family had the same issue … it would be fixed immediately.
Do you sufffer from Mental Illness?
Read and watch my Metal Detecting Videos and how I use Metal Detecting as a tool for my own therapy for my illness and please read my full story on effexor withdrawal
and the very first childhood experiences here which helped contribute to my anxiety and depression here School Teachers Who Bully
What I write in the below is how easily a persons life can be destroyed by Bullying and Abuse … Not Sexual Abuse… just simple physical humiliating bullying, verbal and physical abuse, and how any form of bullying will and does affect the victim for the rest of their lives.
None of the below is related to my service in the Australian Defence Force, however I am a Department of Veterans Affair Veteran who does receive a Military Pension for my service in the Australian Army and the Royal Australian Navy.
It is really hard for me to write this, but now aged 43 years of age, I must do this as part of my personal healing journey, I must release this anger, the guilt, the hatred for what certain people inflicted upon myself in my teenage years, mainly being the only boy in class with eight girls in a tiny rural country town called Dumbleyung, the town I still reside in and still call home …. as much as I hate the place on the odd occasion, however, this town is the town where I had a wonderful life, a wonderful childhood and the memories of a childhood that any kid for wish for.
However when I turned 13, all of that changed for my, my happy childhood became a somewhat miserable and lonely teenage life.
This is where my story starts, from recent years, and then to my teenage years and then back to the present time.
I also ask you to please feel free to comment, to share this story with anyone close to you who may have faced similar situations.
The Last Four Weeks
The last four weeks have been really quite hellish for me … if you are unaware, I suffer from really bad anxiety and PTSD (Military Service), and just one little tiny trigger can put me out of action for weeks.
Sometimes it is so hard just to get outside, I am reminded of my childhood sometimes as I stare out of the window in the mornings, not wanting to go to school, as I press my cheek against the warm sunkissed windows of my home … I would do that always as a kid, and I still do the same today.
It is so hard just to get outside, but once I feel the sun’s warmth or the chill of a winters mid morning breeze, then that is my medication for the day, My other medication is also Metal Detecting, Relic Hunting and Bottle Digging, and not to mention photography and videography…. once I am outside, then that’s when my anxiety drifts away without me even knowing…. it is kind of weird to explain.
But that is the best way I can explain it, so once I am outside, I have to get away from my home, to escape the knowing that soon I will lose my home to the evil banks. I hate being home, even though most days it is a huge struggle for me just to open the door and to step outside… but I must escape that reminder. I hate doing it also, because I have so many important things I could be doing, such as ebaying to survive, completing my 3 year overdue business taxation return.
I know I am in denial about losing my house, but leaving my house to go on an adventure is my way of forgetting about all the problems in my life, so on a daily basis I just take off with my three dogs and ignore all of the challenges I face in life, and when I return home, that is when I am once again faced with the reality of the situation I face, yet still I find ways to ignore these issues.
Usually in the morning I always wake up with the butterflies in my stomach, feelings of dread, feelings of guilt and even feelings of…
“is this really happening to me, am I really going to lose my family home to the bank… surely not!”
As a small child, just before leaving for school and just after a breakfast vegemite on toast, I would find myself pressing my cheeks against the warm windows of my lounge room looking at the beautiful views of the distant native bush and farming fields, I would look at a certain patch of bush and trees to the East of my home on the distant horizon, thinking as though it would days to walk to that place, and now 35 odd years later I still do the same.
The feeling of the warmth of the suns rays on a glass window against my cheek is such a beautiful memory, like memories of the smell of carrots being cut into sticks in kindergarten, the smell of burning eucalyptus leaves smouldering away in a freshly raked pile of leaves, and the smell of the first drops of rain steaming on a hot bitumen road after a beautiful refreshing summer thunderstorm, or the smell of burnt toast at my Granpops place in Kalgoorlie when all of my cousins, Aunts and Uncles would reunite their on special occasions.
Kalgoorlie is the famous slightly remote goldfields town where Paddy Hannan a gold prospector whose discovery on 17 June 1893 near Kalgoorlie, Western Australia set off a gold rush in the area.
100 Years later and the gold rush continues in Kalgoorlie, I have even heard rumours that only a small percentage of gold nuggets in the area has been found, with a huge percentage of gold nuggets still out there somewhere.
I have thousands of beautiful memories of my life, yet only a few awful memories of my life and those memories haunt me today, both recent and distant.
Losing My Business to the Bank
Two Years ago I had a small Australia Post Office, with an ajoining Cafe, Internet Cafe, Garden Nursery, Newsagency, Signwriting and rather successful internet business (Beaut Utes) a Website Forum with over 10,000 Members, my own online store and so much more which bought in a nice little side income to pay my bills, however the site is now “kinda” closed, with only Photos of Utes in the Gallery visible now.
To cut a long story short, I lost my business because my ex business partner stole many thousands of dollars from the business, myself and also my Mother … she took my mother to the Bank (My Mother is a Massive Stroke Survivor and resides in a Nursing Home)
It is a long and messy story, and I don’t want to go into it now, because it is a nightmare story with a Business Partner From Hell!
I won’t deny that I made mistakes as well, then again, it is not hard to make mistakes in a small country town… you upset one person in town and then all of a sudden you upset the whole town (rumours, gossip and innuendo)
The mistakes I made related to the breakdown of my business, the huge amount of stress it cause myself, and my family, but I never stole money or went out of my way to jeopardise my business, I tried my utmost to save my business… any business owner would.
My business partner had the gall to talk my disabled mother to the Bank – Bankwest and then get my mother to sign a withdrawal form and then withdraw, most of my mother’s last savings.
The Bank also made the mistake of allowing this to happen, no one is allowed to withdraw money from my Mothers Bank except myself and my Sister who are Power of Attorneys to my Mother.
Because of my Mothers Massive Stroke, she does not have to mental capacity to make financial decisions, but being a beautiful innocent lady… she loved my ex business partner, yet in the end she was deceived by her.
My ex Business Partner stole money from the business bank accounts, therefore I couldn’t commit to Mortgage Repayments.
I worked so hard to try and save my business… 7 days a week I worked, and even daily after work I would scrap metal.
I still scrap metal now, but I don’t cash it in… I plan on saving this scrap metal for a rainy day, hopefully to use the money as a deposit to save my house, and also to buy a small truck so that one day I can scrap full time.
I also hope to be able to give my mother $20,000 I borrowed off her, she has nothing in her bank now, and for me to give her the money I owe her should hopefully let me live comfortably for a few years, hopefully alot longer.
I also do a lot of picking at local rubbish dumps, and any good stuff I find, I sell on ebay and some of the stuff I find is worth quite some money.
I have actually done quite well over the last few years paying off my debts, I now only have one major debt, and that is a legal bill of $1500… apart from that and a small overdraught I am debt free … apart from the $200,000 debt now hanging over my head.
My business partner was even so cunning that even whilst in the business partnership, she defrauded the Australian Governent Umemployment Services (Centrelink) and she received unemployment benefits for around two years, even whilst taking money from the business.
I sold all… I mean all my treasured possessions just to try and pay the mortgage repayments.
The worst thing of all was when I would scrap metal, I would make a lot of money, I would go up to the city, bring home $3000 for my scrap to pay my mortgage, and when I returned home back to the business,.,,, $3000 would be missing from the cash register…. so to cut a long story short, instead of putting the $3000 into my mortgage repayment account, the money I worked my guts out for… I would then have to return that $3000 to the cash register.
You see, the money which my business partner stole, was not ours, the business we were in was an Australia Post = Post Office, so the money actually belonged to Australia Post, there was a float of around $5000 we had to account for.
And so many times money would go missing, $100, $200, $500, $2500, $3000 usually, and of that missing money I would have to count daily to ensure that the float was correct… any money missing I would have to replace with my own money or the side business earnings…. in the end I just walked away… not to mention I was basically forced out due to the Police being involved, legal reasons, and I could not cope anymore and I was even starting to be rude to my customers, I would snap to them and because of the pressure I was under, I would even lash out to some of my rude and nosey customers and literally tell them to get the fuck out of my shop… that is what happens when you are on the verge of losing everything.
Losing My Business and Now My Family Home
My business partners ambition was to succeed in sabotaging the business so that the bank would foreclose, and she went out of her way to do that, she succeeded in her goal, and she succeeded in her goal of the bank taking steps to start steps to repossess my family home, a home my sister and I were brought up in … in a very happy typical family environment, with the obvious ups and downs any family goes through.
This home of my family, was paid off 30 years ago by my beautiful dedicated loving father, a man who worked 7 days a week, 363 days a year for 25 years.
Now not only do I face losing my home in the very near future, but I also face the shame of failure and embarrassment of losing everything, and also the future care of my beautiful mother who resides in a aged care facility in a nearby town.
A reality faced by many throughout the world, a reality I never thought I would face.
Life can be so unfair… no matter what happens I will continue to battle on in life as I am a true Australian Battler.
For any future business owners, please just make sure you are certain what you want to do, if you are in a relationship with a business partner, make sure you are certain of what you want… don’t rush into things.
My biggest problem was that I was too kind hearted, I rushed into things even though I had many doubts, as I knew from the start I could be making a dreadful mistake.
Even prior to getting into this business, my ex-partner was extremely jealous and insecure.
Many times I’d go Metal Detecting wither during the day or at night, and she would ring me thinking that I was with another girl.
The day we signed the contract… was the first day I found out that she had been married before… a marriage to a dutch citizen, simply so that she could get a Dutch Passport and Duel Citizenship, and visa versa for her “ex-husband” … the marriage was planned, simply for duel passports and citizenship with the full intentions of getting divorced in the near future… and finally … hidden lies will always be revealed… trust me on that!
I could have easily backed out on the day we signed the contract, the very day I found out via the contracts officer that she had been previously married… because he asked for her divorce papers…. why did I not back out you may ask?
Because I was just too kind hearted.
So now the Bank has written me a letter requesting 3 days to come up with $200,000… (I’d already lost close to $200,000 of my own investment money… now obviously trying to save my family home will no doubt be clearly impossible… but in any case I will try and keep positive… miracles happen.. but I need one hell of a big miracle.
If you do not believe me I turned to Scrapping Metal just to survive… another reason why I resorted to scrapping metal because I was inspired to scrap metal after seeing videos on the poor people in China, India and other poor countries, these people scrap everything, metal, plastic, paper… just to survive to put food on the table.
Even though my business failed, I am so very proud of myself on how hard I worked just to try and save my business, and when I say I worked hard ….
Yes …. I worked fucking hard to try and save my business!
The gossipers and rumour mongers don’t talk about the positives, only the negatives, because there is nothing better than backstabbing a person whom you do not like and you want to see them fail.
I literally scrapped my guts out day in day out and even scrapped in front of the computer as I watched my youtube friends videos on youtube… the people in my town thrived on the negative gossip about my and my ex partner, yet they loved the gossip, and no doubt I was the talk of the town at family dinner tables, the local pub and district bowling club where the usual alcoholics drink booze and the the stories of me and my business were not doubt twisted and twisted like a chinese chicken getting it’s neck broken, not to mention the typical chinese rumours that spread through out my town via the local pub, clubs and the typical women who just love to gossip at their garden club meetings.
Previous to this business I never had any financial worries, I was always on time paying bills, and I even had a beautiful half acre block of land in Jarrahdale, a beautiful town in the hills on the outskirts of Perth – Western Australia… Perth is the capital city of Western Australia, population 2 million approximately.
Over the last few years, things have been dreadfully tight for me financially, it took me years just to be able to buy some decent boots, but even now I live in rags, crappy worn jeans with holes in them… it sounds stupid, but just the simple things like buying socks is a luxury for me.
I remember once when I was really battling a beautiful farming family in my hometown would buy me food, even just writing this sentence sends tears to my eyes…. I will never forget the generosity of that beautiful family… thanks you so much Davina G… you have a heart of pure gold and love…. I will never forget your generosity, same goes for Heather W.
Not to mention the beautiful farming families who gave me work, allowd me to scrap their farm dumps… you know who you are, Braden, Terri, Dayle, Karl, Todd, Skeeter…. you kindness and trust in me will never be forgotten.
As I say I come from Dumbleyung in Western Australia a tiny town of around 250 people, famous for Donald Campbell setting the World Water Speed Record on Lake Dumbleyung on December 31st 1964.
There are some lovely people in my hometown, but like any small country town, there are also many nasty people… really nasty people who go out of their way to spread rumours about you, to gossip about you… country people thrive on gossip and it is sickening.
Country People look down upon you for being kind to the (Aboriginal People) and Druggies and the aussie battlers of life!
I am proud to say that my family have always looked after the battlers in this town, the local Aboriginal People, the down and the out, the unforgiven, the addicted, the battlers…. unfortunately local people see that kindness, yet they look down upon you for being kind to the Aboriginals and Battlers! Sometimes I’d give people the last $50 in my wallet and sacrifice my own luxuries, just so those people could buy food… so they would say, maybe they wasted in on alcohol, drugs, cigarettes or who knows what … and sometimes I’d never see that $50 again.
Human kindness is rare, but it is not a good feeling being used or taken advantage of…. but thats what my father taught me, respect and you will be respected … I never have to worry about my house being broken into, or removing the car keys from my car, because I know that they respect me, whether or not they are bad people or good people.
A town like Dumbleyung can either make you or break you … if you are a “townie” then your the lower class of society, especially if your a battler, people look down on you, it is even worse if your skin colour is not white, racism in every Australian Country town is rife and I will not deny that it does not exist in my home town of Dumbleyung.
Dumbleyung actually made Australia Wide news headlines in the early 1980’s a time when rasicm was rife.
The Dumbleyung Gymkhana Greasy Pig Race Riots
The Aboriginal People of Dumbleyung lived on one side of the railway track and the white people lived on the other side of the railway track. As I say in the early 1980’s Dumbleyung hit the newsheadlines when the Annual Dumbleyung Gymkhana would run a somewhat hilarious event called the Greasy Pig.
The Greasy Pig was an event where a local farmer would donated a small pig to the local town rural show, and the pig was covered snout to trotter in grease, and the pig was released on the Stubbs Park Showground AFL and Cricket Oval… obviously the pig was absolutely panic stricken and ran for its life, no doubt knowing that by the end of the day it would become a crispy spit roast.
Whoever caught the pig would be entitled to keep the pig for themselves and then cook it up.
Back in those days hundreds people would flock to the showgrounds of the Dumbleyung Gymkhana from miles away, sometimes hundreds of miles away, but usually the closer towns, such as Katanning, Nyabing, Wagin, Narrogin, Tambellup, Woodanilling, Broomehill and other small farming towns, just to try and catch the greasy pig so that their familys could have a nice Sunday Roast Pork Dinner.
To cut along story short, the pig was released, and the local Aboriginal Families and White Australian families of all ages, kids age 5 years of age to old grand fathers in their 70’s would run like the wind in the faint hope of catching the pig.
The drunks staggered, tripped, fell, slipped and slid on the greasy grass from where the pig had fallen on the grass of the oval, the little pig recovered its demeanor and once again ran for its life, its little corkscrew tail between its hind legs, crying and screaming like a little piggy about to be led to the abattoirs to its fate well known.
People of all colours, wearing their stubbie shorts, bluey singlets, some with football boots, and some with gloves for extra grip, people were jumping, diving, slipping, swearing, laughing, yelling, screaming and onlookers cheering to catch the Dumbleyung Greasy Pig… everyone was happy…. then all hell broke loose!
So finally someone caught the pig, a white fella or black fella , I do not know… I was actually there that day and I remember the day like yesterday…. even myself and young mates Aboriginal and White Fella’s tried our hardest to catch the pig.
Then all of a sudden there were no more laughs, there were cracks of black and white fists and knuckles flying left right and centre, elbows going backwards into peoples heads, legs kicking inwards and outwards, jaws were broken, eyes were blackened, shoulders were disclocated, teeth were lost, swallowed and spat out onto the green and blood spattered grass
Farmers wives were crying, little girls were screaming, and young boys were loving every bit of the actiion that was unfolding on the grounds of Stubbs Park Oval.
The one local policeman was on the oval, his head in wonder, twisting and turning, chasing the nearest black fella to his company. The fight turned into a full blown race riot, all over a little pig, and all because the wrong coloured person caught the pig… which by the way had now run off to a safe haven in one of the Dumbleyung Bush patches opposite the Dumbleyung Showgrounds.
Police were called in from Wagin, Albany (250km’s away) Narrogin and even Perth, also 250kms away.
There were nearly more police paddy wagons in Dumbleyung that what there were HQ Holden Utes, local Aboriginal Family Relatives flocked to Dumbleyung to back up their relatives from many towns throughout the Great Southern area of Western Australia.
Whites and Blacks were arrested, the local Police Station only had 3 Police Cells, a 100 year old rustic cold stone gaol (jail) The local hospital was inundated with aboriginal and white fella casualties, where as most of the Aboriginal people injured were treated and tended to by their own families.
Dumbleyung back then probably had a population of 500 people, back in the days when jobs were a plenty, and farming was a good profitable business, now hours later there would have been a 1000 to 2000 people in the town, some people there just for the fun of a fight, and some people, mainly Aboriginal people there to back up their relatives.
Hours later things calmed down, white people flocked to the local pub, the blackened and the bruised were treated like heroes, some went to jail, some went to hospital, and the local pub made a million dollars in beer sales that night.
Fortunately for the little pig, it was never seen again, presumed to have found a new home on the edges of Lake Dumbleyung, often scene mingling with farm sheep, rabbits, kangaroos, and bathing in the muddy waterholes on the edge of Lake Dumbleyung near Pussy Cat Hill.
Many people fought to have a bronze statue of the little pig erected in town, however the statue never happened, and the Dumbleyung Greasy Pig saw its last day and was never seen again.
Months later and tensions calmed down, however the day of the Dumbleyung Greasy Pig still remains fondly in the memories of the Dumbleyung Townsfolk that witnessed it.
The Dumbleyung Gymkhana is now known as the Blue Bird Festival.
Dumbleyung was also famous for the The Lake Dumbleyung Black Duck Bikie Rally
See some vintage footage of the Black Duck Rally Bikers partying and getting up to mischief
Growing up in Dumbleyung I was a bit of a mischevious kid, even a bit of a leader… I have potential, however I’d be one of the first kids (Besides Aboriginal People (racism sucks) ) to be blamed for little things, stealing money, vandalism, fire starting and so forth) My name is Billy … aka Billy the Kid … and once you have that reputation … that reputation sticks with you for life… and even now sadly at aged 43 years, I still feel people treat as I was still in my Childhood.
I even remember visiting or staying with my school mates over night or going out to theirs farms to play and explore, and I always remember the mistrust their parents had for me, I could see it in their eyes…. yet I was as innocent as any other boy that age… what bloody kid did not like to get up to mischief… thats what boys did back then, not like the kids these days, who spend their brainwashed days in front of computers and computer games.
My biggest downfall growing up in my hometown was as a 13 year old, all of my mates were farming sons. and these boys were shipped off to Private Boarding Schools, such as Hale, Aquinas, and other expensive boarding schools…. and I was just a poor mans son.
Then at aged 13 I was the only boy in my class with 8 girls…. so you can imagine what that does for a teenage boys self esteem.
From the ages of 13 to 15 (years 8 to 10) I was the only boy in my class, and prior to that I was a true leader and had loads of potential, good at all sport, football, cricket, a champion swimmer and boy that could throw a cricket ball as far and as accurate as a Australian Test Match Cricketer.
That potential was ruined when my innocence was taken away by two teachers, one named Mr Butcher who I had to called “Sir” … Sir and nothing but Sir, a man whom is still in the Western Australian Education Department and is a Principal at a High School in Perth… Mr Butcher or “Sir” was one of the most sadistic people I have ever encountered, he taught Social Studies and whatever else I can’t remember… it is kind of funny, I did a google search on him once and the only result that comes up is in regards to him being on the Chair / Parents and Citizens Board concerning Child School Bullying… the other teacher was Miss Bruechle, she was my Maths teacher, and she too was sadistic towards me…. more about her down below.
Mr Butcher was an Army Reserve Officer, at that time he was a 2nd Lieutenant, and always in school and class he would carry a cricket wicket, such as a Regimental Sergeant Major (RSM) would do so in the real Australian Army…. believe it or not he is now a Colonel in the Western Australian Army Reserve… by now he would be carrying a proper Army Pace Stick…. I wonder how long that Cricket Wicket lasted for and if any other teenage boys felt that wicket go into their back.
Mr Butcher knew how much I loved the Army, and it was a childhood dream that one day I too would serve my country as an Australian Soldier, to follow my fathers footsteps, a man who served his country in WW2 (airforce) and also in Vietnam (Royal Australian Engineers)
So maybe to me I was one of Mr Butchers little Army Recruits?
That Pace Stick was his sadistic confidence bearing torture tool, I remember one day in class, one of the girls said something funny, I was only around 13 or 14 years of age at that time.
Being a only boy in class with eight girls, he would always go out of his way to humiliate me, and I clearly remember laughing at the joke … then all of a sudden I heard growl in my ear with the spit of anger hitting my neck and he said
“What gives you the right to laugh Sherman”
I cannot remember what I said, but even if what I said was a positive thing, he did not care.
Then all of a sudden in the corner of my eye, I saw him raise the Cricket Wicket aka Pacestick, and then he stabbed me in the back with it the pain was horrible and I instantly screamed out in fear and pain, humiliation and I started to cry.
The humiliation of that day was likely the beginning of my anxiety, depression, but I buried it deep down in my heart. Back then I had never heard of depression, anxiety etc I did tell my mum that night, and she lifted my shirt to reveal a blood stained singlet and cut on my back, a scar that still remains today…. she went to the principal the next day and complained… as usual in those days nothing was done, nor did they care.
A perfect example of a trigger which can send me into a bout of anxiety or a panic attack is someone touching my back, an unexpected touch, such as a pat on the shoulder to say “well done mate” a push in my back, an unexpected touch of my back, someone behind me touching me and many more examples.
These triggers can send me off into awful panic attacks, flash backs, anxiety and instant memories of that day I was stabbed in the back.
That day is one of the worst events of my life, can you imagine being an only boy in class with eight girls and then being humiliated like that.
For three long years I had to put up with humiliation by this awful teacher, Mr Butcher, being humilated and belittled in front of my female classmates mates devastated me, it took my dignity away, my right to happiness, my right to become educated properly and a million more things.
And do you know what the worst thing about Mr Butcher was?
Well the worst thing was that he was a single bachelor, a useless man who could not even cook, lived off frozen peas and yet he was my families neighbor… and my Mum and Dad being beautiful people treated this man like thier own son, my mother would do his washing, clothes ironing, cook meals for him, invite him to dinner, my Dad would drink Port with him and talk about the old Army days, even play chess with him (from memory) in our own home.
This man was a true bastard to me, he took away my innocence, my right to succeed in life and a proper education, and now here I am aged 43 years of age, still not married, no children, and still reliving the after effects of one fateful “wrong laugh”
I remember around 5 years ago, Mr Butcher visited my Mother and Father, and I was home, I was polite to him, I always was, because that is who I am, with thanks to the upbringing my beautiful mother and father gave me.
But on that day, anger and courage rose up in my heart, when Mr Butcher found it time to leave, I walked outside with him.
Under the undercover garage where I park my car, I sat back on the bonnet of my car, and I decided to confront Mr Butcher and deep down in my soul, it raged with anger, but also I gathered the courage and strength to confront him about his past evil deeds towards me.
I then asked Mr Butcher this:
“What gave you the right to treat me like shit, to humiliate me, to bully me, to hurt me, to stab me in the back with that cricket wicket?”
His reply to me was basically:
“I do not know what your talking about Billy, I cannot remember doing that at all”
Well Sir, when you drive that car back to Perth, in the next 3 hours I want you to understand how much damage you did to me that day, you took away my confidence, you took away my innocence, you took away my childhood, you took away my teenage years, you took away my dignity, you were supposed to be a role model for me, but you were simply a sadistic evil person who took out all your hate, your jealousy, your rage on a innocence thirteen year old boy, just make sure you remember that, you remember how much my Mother and Father loved you, how they cared for you, yet after all of that love, friendship and kindness they gave you, you destroyed my teenage years, my ability to have the confidence in life, the ability to have confidence with women, the ability to have a good life…. just remember that, because what you did to me over those three years destroyed everything a young teenage boy should be entitled to.
Now why do I feel that Mr Butcher did those horrible humiliating things to me?
Well I simply believe that he liked my sister greatly, and that he was extremely jealous of her, so with all of that jealousy, he took out all of his anger, frustration and jealousy towards me, he spewed his hatred towards me, his anger was like a volcano erupting and that pacestick was most likely a confidence bearing tool that probably represented a Phallic symbol of lack of confidence in his own self being.
Everyday and Every lesson at the school in which those teachers taught lessons, it was like walking on eggshells, no matter what I did or what I said, it was never good enough.
Either that, or like most bullies, they too have been bullied, or even abused as a child, so he took out all his rage on me.
I am a very forgiving person, but a person who does not have the courage to accept liability and to have the courage to say sorry is a weak person indeed, my memories will one hopefully fade, but for the perpetrator who has the weakness of self denial, the I hope that memory will remain with them until their last dying breathes.
I also feel the same for the female teacher Miss Bruechle, I have never seen her since, but if I do, I will go out of my way to humiliate her as well, and I will confront her in the same means.
My memories of her, are her foul cigarette smelling breathe as she once again told me off in my ear, she too was sadistic, she too went out of way to humiliate me in front of my female classmates with verbal abuse and als physical abuse. And once again I too also believe she was jealous of my Sister.
The type of abuse I had to deal with from Miss Bruechle was such things as verbal, humiliation, threats of failure, being put down to the next year down, and violent examples of being physically hit, slapped, hit with rulers, chalk, pencils, biros, rulers and chalkboard dusters thrown at me…. it sounds so lame, but if your the victim and the only boy in class, then I ask you to put your own children in the same situation… go on I dare you.
So Mr Butcher and Miss Bruechle … I do not know where you are now, nor do I really care, but I sincerely hope you come across this website, and I am positive that if you don’t come across this website, then your children certainly will stumble across this story, for I have placed certain keywords in this website, aimed at you or your family directly.
And if you read this, you will have to look in other peoples / parents eyes with the fear in your mind thinking …. have they seen what that Billy Sherman wrote about me? Think About It!
Just remember, you might have had a shitty childhood, but you had no reason in the world to take my childhood/teenage years away from me.
You people although you did not sexually abuse me, you still reside in that category of child abusers, you are pure scum, and if I ever come across your path, you will be confronted and you will be humiliated.
My Sister was the Schools Secretary, she was a nice girl, she always stuck up for me, but she never saw the abuse I was faced with daily…. all because I am 100% positive that these two school teachers were jealous of my sister, my sisters talent so they took it all out on an innocent young kid with loads of potential.
And that potential was taken away from me at aged 13 years of age… yet still I have succeeded in life, I served my country in the Australian Army and the Royal Australian Navy for 15 Years, I have had failures in life and no doubt I will face many burdens in my life, as I currently do, yet I have the strength, the guts and the pure determination to carry on and try my utmost to be a good citizen in our society, to help others who face or have faced the same challenges in life.
My head, although hangs low on some occasions, it will hang high as I strive though this one life that we have been given through the miracle of life.
To conclude this, I would say if you too are a victim of Teacher – Student Bullying, stand up for yourself, report it, and the same goes for any other form of abuse, bullying or harassment… don’t let these evil deeds eat away at your soul, because if you do, one day it will catch up to you, and it will affect others in your life, your loved ones, your romances and so much more … it is just not worth holding all of those memories in your heart…. trust me on that.
On many occasions whenever I was down, grumpy or angry, My Beautiful Late Father Jack would quote me this beautiful poem by rudyard Kipling, read it and please try and life by it.
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
Metal Detecting is my true saviour, is has helped me so much… once I get out there… all my problems just wash away… it is a awesome way to relieve stress.
Do You Suffer from Depression? PTSD? Anxiety? Why not consider taking up Metal Detecting!
“Rain From Nowhere” A Beautiful Poem About Depression & Anti-Suicide in Rural Australia
One of my awful “I want to end it all days”
PLEASE GOD – STRIKE ME DOWN WITH LIGHTNING!
When I am anxious, I find it really hard even just to type on my computer and reply to comments, so I apologise to anyone who has replied to my videos over the last few weeks, it is such an awful thing.
When I am anxious, I find it really hard even just to type on my computer and reply to comments, so I apologise to anyone who has replied to my videos over the last few weeks, it is such an awful thing.
Effexor and Xanax
I take Effexor for Depression (not really that bad) but mainly anxiety and PTSD, and I also use XANAX for my anxiety and panic attacks and so forth.
Effexor is a nightmare drug for me, I have been on it for around 10 years, I would not recommend it to anyone… the reason being is because if you miss one single dose, you will have the most awful side effects, such as “Brain Zaps” like electric shocks in your brain which happens because of the withdrawal effects… even though Effexor is not addictive, but it just gives you a lot of serotonin etc.
For me the most awful side effect of missing one or two doses of Effexor is the most horrible and vivid nightmares you will have when you sleep.
The nightmares are some of the most vivid nightmares I have ever had … one missed dose and I know that my sleeping night will be full of nightmare scenario dreams.
The dreams are so vivid; these dreams are like taking magic mushrooms and going on a dreadful trip to some hellish destination.
There are no good dreams with effexor… I have been on this awful pharmaceutical drug for way to long now, and to me it is like being a guinea pig forgotten and hidden away in a scientist’s laboratory
Before you read the below I write on XANAX, I am not addicted to it, I do not abuse it, I am a pretty fit and healthy guy, I am no druggy…. but the results of XANAX addiction can be devastating, deadly and nightmarish… once again I do not abuse this dangerous drug….. However XANAX is a really good drug for me, and I do not abuse it, as this drug is powerfully addictive and can easily kill you when abused, such as it has in the past with famous actors like Health Ledger, Whitney Houston, and other famous celebrity deaths, not to mention the thousands of other people it kills around the world daily…. so just do not abuse it!
I am sincerely hoping to go off these awful pharmaceutical drugs within the next 6 months to a year… as I am turning Anti-Pharmaceutical, and then I am hoping to go to Peru for a few months to undertake an Ayahuasca Retreat to get all of the bad demons out of my system, to be reborn in a sense, not religiously, but it will a spiritual release, to purge all of the awful things I have experienced in life, to be reborn and then hopefully to become a better human being and to never touch anti depressant medication again.
If you are not aware of Ayahuasca, here are some good links, as well as links to the following:
Metamorphosis – The Ayahuasca Ceremony of the Amazon
Destination Peru – Curing My Everything – Ayahuasca – Depression and Anxiety