As soon as she hears the piercing sound of a window shatter onto the backyard patio, Ella knows the fight for her life is on again.
"I'm going to f****** kill you," Jesse screams.
Heart thumping, Ella watches his small hand reach for a 20-centimetre shard of glass.
He thrusts it towards her face.
She wraps her arms around his body and forces him to the ground, holding him in a firm hug while her children and neighbour scramble to call the police.
The officers, who know the family all too well, are quick to arrive.
Jesse is hospitalised and taken into a residential care unit.
When he returns home days later and cuddles up to Ella, she pretends to have forgotten.
"Even on a bad day, even when everything has gone bad, Jesse still seeks that love and nurturing and acceptance from me," she says.
Jesse is Ella's 12-year-old son, and she is terrified she will have to give him up.
Tough beginnings
Growing up, Jesse was an "incredibly sensitive" child.
"He didn't love being in groups of other kids, but was really attached to his family, really close with me," Ella says.
Jesse is a survivor of domestic violence from his father, and has been diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD).
Asking him to brush his teeth, put down the laptop or wake up for school will "almost certainly" end in violence, Ella says.
Physical aggression can occur three times a week, and is almost always directed at Ella, who has been strangled, kicked and punched in the face.
"[It's] coupled with saying things like, 'I'm going to kill you when you least expect it' … 'you're going to want to see your face after I've finished with it'. That, to me, is really unnerving," she says.
Ella has been told to hide, call triple-0 and, as a last resort, use physical restraint when he escalates.
Kitchen knives and other sharp objects can't be left around the house.
They are locked in a safe.
As part of the family's safety plan, Jesse's older siblings have locks installed on their bedroom doors and emergency bags are packed.
"Sometimes, my oldest child has said they find it difficult to go to school because they worry about what Jesse will do to me during the day," she says.
Police have attended the Melbourne home up to five times a fortnight, and taken out an intervention order (IVO) against Jesse. Initially, Ella objected to the IVO.
But earlier this year — when one of her children became suicidal after another outburst from Jesse — she changed her mind, telling the court his siblings needed to "have trust that the justice system would protect them".
Giving up Jesse
Supporting Jesse has been all-consuming, forcing Ella to quit her day job.
Over the years, the family has been referred to behaviour support practitioners, mental health services and family preservation programs, to name a few.
"Nearly every service involved with us has come into our lives, done that initial getting-to-know-you, starting work with us and then closed [the file] because the risk is too high or it's too complex," Ella says.
"The fear is that Jesse will kill me one day."
In a desperate attempt to "expedite services", Ella has reached out to child protection authorities.
Documents show the department responsible sees Ella as a "fierce advocate" for Jesse, and admits there are "significant deficiencies" within child protection, the National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS), mental health and other services to help the family.
Child protection's own intervention has seen Jesse temporarily sent into residential care, because no foster home or extended family member would take him.
On his first night away, Ella felt crushing guilt.
She laid on the living room floor, clutching Jesse's jumper, and played a song from the Disney animation, Frozen, on repeat.
"I was scared and sad and heartbroken," Ella says.
Child protection workers have asked Ella to consider relinquishing care of Jesse.
"Being really honest, I often think about suicide as an option, when I feel like I can't make that decision," she says.
"I feel like we can't go on, but I can't choose.
"What would you do? What would any of us do if you're in a situation like this?"
Ella fears if she won't decide, it will be decided for her.
"I am terrified that Jesse, who is so bright, so loving, and has had such an unfairly hard life so far, will be taken out of his family because the system can't support him," she says.
"It doesn't seem right or fair to set Jesse on such a path ... I really worry that Jesse is going to end up in the juvenile criminal system."
Ella's predicament is made harder by days when Jesse is calm and remorseful.
His words on a recent birthday card to her say it all: "Sorry for what I have been doing lately."
Another family finds a way out
Like Ella, New South Wales mother Jane has lived in fear of her own child.
Leo was about five, when he began to display aggressive behaviour.
As he grew older, he became stronger — and Jane resorted to drastic measures to control him.
"I was restraining him with risperidone [an antipsychotic medication] and just sitting on him until it kicked in, and I had to call the police twice because I felt in fear of my life," she says.
She reached out to a carer support service, child mental health unit and Lifeline to no avail.
On the verge of suicide, Jane called child protection services.
"I put a report on myself, that the girls and myself were unsafe," she says.
"Twice I rang, saying that I wanted to relinquish care.
"They just say, 'we haven't got a case manager, we'll get back to you and we'll get someone to come and talk to you', but nothing happened."
Leo has experienced childhood trauma and has been diagnosed with autism and ADHD.
Although he has access to the NDIS, Jane says in their hour of need, the service kept "palming her off".
Eventually, the Benevolent Society — which supports people with disability and their carers — helped advocate for an urgent review of Leo's NDIS funding.
With a $20,000 increase, the family has been able to access behavioural therapy and five hours of in-house support a week.
Positive behaviour support practitioner Emily Baitch helps Leo understand his emotions through play-based learning.
"The progress that he's made — considering that he has quite a complex profile — is incredible," she says.
Ms Baitch has also given Jane practical tools to manage when Leo becomes heightened.
In these moments, she should abstain from giving him instructions and observe his body language, while slowly moving away.
"When he's willing to talk to Jane, then she can approach him and then she can redirect him to a more sociable activity that he likes," Ms Baitch says.
Jane says it's a mix of therapy and increased dosage of medication that has helped the family get "back to normal life".
"We're a lot happier and working better as a family," she says.
"Things can improve with help — even though it's been a fight to get help."
Hundreds of parents impacted by violence
It is rare for parents to give up their children, experts say.
Reports of child-to-parent violence, on the other hand, are becoming more frequent.
In NSW alone, 912 parents were victims of domestic violence from their own child in the past financial year, data from the state's Bureau of Crime Statistics and Research shows.
A national study by Australia's National Research Organisation for Women's Safety of more than 5,000 young people confirmed exposure to adult domestic violence had devastating outcomes for many.
The 2022 study found half of the young people who had witnessed or experienced domestic violence went on to perpetrate it.
One of its authors Professor Silke Meyer says support services are too overwhelmed with getting children out of harm's way to address long-term impacts of abuse.
"We miss these opportunities to offer child-centred recovery support," she says.
"As a result, we see this high risk of young people growing up with violence in the home to then turning into people using violence in the home."
Professor Mark Dadds works with children who have severe behavioural problems.
He advises their parents how to address difficult behaviour at the University of Sydney's Child Behavioural Research Clinic.
"There are children all over Australia at the moment that are so severe in aggression that they are actually a risk to other children," he says.
While it can be hard to break the cycle of aggression and non-cooperation, he says praising the children when they behave can help.
"Catching the children being good, finding the examples of good behaviour to try and focus on," the clinical psychologist says.
He says although Australia is "punching above its weight" in developing programs — such as Parent-Child Interaction Therapy and the 'Triple P' positive parenting program — accessibility remains a problem.
Inclusion Australia's Catherine McAlpine says it is often families with the most complex needs who are failed by support networks.
"No family should ever feel like they need to give up their child," Ms McAlpine says.
"It should not be left to people in crisis to do the navigation and try and find the right supports at the moment when their lives are falling apart.
"The victim here is the person with the disability. They are the ones who are in danger of losing their family and losing all of their supports."
Jim Mullan from the peak body for people with autism, Amaze, says aggression is "not a feature of autism" and is often linked to childhood trauma.
"The reality is that in most cases [of] children with escalating behaviours and violence, this is learnt behaviour. And it's learnt behaviour because of environmental factors," he says.
He wants people to remember that those living with disability are more likely to be abused than the other way around.
The National Disability Insurance Agency says children and their families deserve support that meets their needs.
"We know more work needs to be done to ensure families are supported to best support their child within their home," a spokesperson says.
The Department of Communities and Justice, that Jane contacted, also acknowledges there are gaps in services and says it works with health and disability services to bridge them.
The Department of Families, Fairness and Housing, involved in Ella and Jesse's case, says taking a child from their home is "always a last resort".
Ella wonders just how much longer she can hold on.
"Two years ago, I would have said, 'If Jesse gets to the point where I feel like my life is in danger, that's the line'," she says.
"But clearly, it's not."
*Names have been changed for legal and privacy reasons.
Credits
- Reporting and digital production: Katri Uibu
- Photography: Danielle Bonica, Brendan Esposito, Mark Leonardi and Tara Whitchurch
- Digital editor: Jessica Haynes
https://news.google.com/rss/articles/CBMiUGh0dHBzOi8vd3d3LmFiYy5uZXQuYXUvbmV3cy8yMDIzLTEyLTE4L2EtbW90aGVycy1maWdodC10by1rZWVwLWhlci1zb24vMTAzMDc1MjMy0gEoaHR0cHM6Ly9hbXAuYWJjLm5ldC5hdS9hcnRpY2xlLzEwMzA3NTIzMg?oc=5
2023-12-17 18:47:18Z
CBMiUGh0dHBzOi8vd3d3LmFiYy5uZXQuYXUvbmV3cy8yMDIzLTEyLTE4L2EtbW90aGVycy1maWdodC10by1rZWVwLWhlci1zb24vMTAzMDc1MjMy0gEoaHR0cHM6Ly9hbXAuYWJjLm5ldC5hdS9hcnRpY2xlLzEwMzA3NTIzMg
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