HETHET1

No one quite gets child protection like Hetty does.

Not the Child Safety Minister, not government officials, not the expert members of the advisory boards she sits on, not victims, not me.

No-one.

Only Hetty.

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I have a childhood (former) mate just like Hetty.

He’s always right too, and no-one has any understanding about anything except him.

Everyone else is an idiot with warped views of the world, and he feels sorry for them because they are not geniuses like he is.

That fellow now lives in a boarding house after being discharged from his third bout of psychiatric inpatient treatment in a decade, each occasion of increasingly more serious treatment having been precipitated by an intense period of drug abuse and addiction.

The problem is that he refuses to accept the abuse that was perpetrated on him by a teacher at St Paul’s School and caused his parents to remove him from the school half-way through Year Nine of his education there.

He wasn’t a victim you see.

No-one was.

They are all just people with warped views of the world who are making it up apparently, me included.

Well, mainly me, because every other friend in the world that he once had – and for a golden period when he was a partially famous BrisVegas disc jockey he had plenty – all of them have dropped over the years as his drug taking became increasingly more serious his behavior more terrible, and he sought to lash out and hurt the fast-diminishing group of friends who were still pushing boulders up a very steep hill trying to help him.

Now, because I’m a victim of the same perpetrator who does actually get the former talented schoolboy musician’s deep inner pain, I’m the last man or woman standing other than his elderly parents who he has already spent a decade blaming, and its my turn.

Apparently according to the only bloke in the world who gets ‘it’ – whatever ‘it’ is – I’ve made the whole story of my abuses up.

I shared what happened with my mother as she was dying from cancer; I spoke out in public to tell my story and suffered vile abuse, threats and opprobrium when my attacker took the guilty pedo’s dive and jumped off the balcony with a rope ties around his neck after being outed for his crimes; I gave an emotionally exhausting 4 hour police statement about my experiences; I undertook a private session with the Royal Commission; I wrote a public live coverage of every minute of the St Paul’s case study conducted by the Commission; I went to the school and embraced the current headmaster and took him to show him the exact spot where I and a number of other kids including the bloke who gets everything were abused, and was able to pinpoint the location that was later independently confirmed as being the abuse site even though it had been torn up and renovated 2 decades before and no-one else including police could work out where it was; I have lobbied politicians for law change; I have donated $5000 received in a defamation settlement against Brisbane Grammar stooges claiming the same thing as this bloke to the Morecombe Foundation and Bravehearts (I wish I’d given it all to Bruce and Denise; they do get it); I’ve helped build a garden of healing at the St Paul’s school and taken dozens of victims and their families to visit it; I’ve supported scores of fellow victims and survivors and their families; and I’ve written and spoken about abuse issues and how to prevent them scores of times; I almost suffered a personal and marital breakdown during the past 3 years that I’ve been facing up to and dealing with the long-living pain caused by the attacks on me as a child; I’ve attended hundreds of doctors and specialists appointments during this period; and on one occasion I very nearly ended up taking and my own life and only saved because good, caring men and women from the Qld Police and Ambulance Services located me at a deserted near-city beach and rushed me to hospital.

All this and more that my one-time oldest mate in the world doesn’t know about because until I just wrote about it now no-one except my family and the various people involved in each of the circumstances did, but now you and everyone else does and once more my life and my abuse are an open book, when really I’d just love the whole thing to never have happened, and to go away.

And I made it up the one person in the world outside my family who I hoped might understand my pain and support me because he’s been in the same place too suddenly decides, for reasons unfathomable to me or anyone else who is not a mental health specialist, that are all of his own.

Why does he claim I did it?

For what?

A moderate compensation settlement that I used some of the money from to bury my mother in the style that the person I loved dearly and who never did a wrong turn to anyone else deserved, and the rest of which I gave away in just three months?

Publicity that which although it shouldn’t be is highly embarrassing to me and my family, and has attracted unwanted abuse and vitriol and caused pain to my parents, wife and kids?

For some other unfathomable and unknowable reason?

I don’t get it, as Hetty and my old mate say.

They’re right you know, I really just don’t get it.

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This article was based on a story from before that The Oz had lifted from this site

I don’t get how a woman who positions herself as the country’s leading child abuse ‘expert’ imagines that’s it okay to send a child sexual abuse victim a personal and public message containing tirades of painful and highly offensive abuse, all because the victim questions how money meant for prevention of sexual abuse is being accounted for and spent, and why the high profile verbal and written abuser has not been forwarding to the charity all of the minimum $7500 per engagement speaker fees paid to her for talking at conferences and events about child sex abuse.

I don’t get why such a leading light in the Child Protection industry would imagine it is acceptable to publicly label a child victim of sexual abuse a protector of pedophiles simply because he writes a story questioning the ethics and conflicts of interest involved in the leading light renting one of her private investment properties to the charity she controls for $27 000 a year, and having the charity foot the bill for tens of thousands of dollars worth of improvements and renovations to the property that she and her husband personally and independently from the charity own.

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I don’t get why a bloke who you’ve know for 40 years and saved from a million falls, a bloke you’ve stuck by through his long decline, and lost jobs and money and time with your family and friendships that were dear to you to support and stand by would suddenly out of nowhere turn on you and start saying and doing things that cause you pain and break your f*cking heart.

I don’t get any of it, but I do know why it happens.

It happens because blokes like this who claim they’re your mate won’t come out in the pouring rain one night when the sh*t car you drive because your abuse related illnesses prevent you from working and earning a decent living to pay for a new one breaks down when you are heading to collect your 17-year-old daughter from work at 10 o’clock at night and she’s waiting in the dark and alone.

It happens because the ‘mate’s’ point blank refusal to drive 15 minutes means that you have to call your 73 year old father who has terminal metastasized cancer to help because you can’t leave your kid alone in the dark late and night and you are desperate, and your Dad comes out and gets soaking wet, and the next day wakes with pneumonia and has to be admitted to hospital and almost dies.

It happens because after all this occurs and you discover that your father’s lung capacity is permanently damaged and he has lost 50% of it that he can never recover, a totally unnecessary complication that might kill him before the cancer does and would never have happened if your mate had cared enough about you and your dad he’s known for four decades and your kid he’s known her entire life to come out in the rain and give you a quick hand that night.

It happens because after all this you tell the mate that he’s not a mate at all, and that he’s almost killed your Dad and that you want nothing to do with him ever again, and you are the last friend he had in the world and all the others are long gone and he’s got no-one else but you left to blame for everything that’s gone wrong in his life since his once-glorious teens and its blame you or face up to the real demons plaguing him, and because demons are scary and he’s got no spine he chooses to hide from the bad guys inside his soul and his head and blame you.

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I don’t get it, but I do get why.

I get why a person who has craved the spotlight for decades, and was once the leader of the Queensland Democrats and has been desperate to enter politics since well before she ever thought about child protection might calculate that her political prospects could be damaged if there is public scrutiny about her property interests, and who has paid for or provided volunteer labor and materials to refurbish, refit or upgrade her family’s private investment properties.

I get why the same person might be concerned about rigorous scrutiny of where the money from each of her lucrative speaking engagements on child protection matters has gone, and in whose pocket it has ended up.

I get why this person, whose organisation receives millions of dollars a year to provide case management and counselling services for child sexual abuse victims but has just 275 clients on its books – one every two weeks – might not want anyone asking the hard questions about where the public money given to it, granted or donated has gone, or how the $5 million it was gifted by the Royal Commission for the provision of services to victims has gone as well.

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I get why this person doesn’t want people asking why the number of therapeutic services their organisation organisation has provided over the past 12 months has dropped by half during the past 12 months even their funding has stayed the same, or why the person wouldn’t want public scrutiny of her organisation’s $133 000 annual travel bill, or why her organisation has entered into a 3-year-lease on a stylish Sydney CBD office apartment at a cost to the organisation of more than $100 000 a year, even though the organisation appears to have no clients in the harbourside city, or why the person’s organisation used a $35 000 start-up grant from the NSW Government to hire the Sydney Opera House to throw a gala ‘thank you’ dinner for Sydney supporters that in the main at that time it didn’t have.

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Australian Financial Review, 30 September 2014

I get all these things.

I just don’t get IT.

I don’t get why these 2 people and others like them seem to suffer from such an extreme version of narcissistic personality disorder that they appear unable to look into mirrors and see the true reflection staring back at them.

I don’t get why they can’t see that their actions toward others, their lack of care and compassion, their prolifigate spending, and their failure to treat others like they themselves wish to be treated diminished themselves in the eyes of others, in the case of my old school mate to the extent that he now longer has any friends; or in the case of Hetty Johnson that she can’t attract enough votes to win a parliamentary seat no matter how many times she tries, and to the point that a number of people of influence are now asking hard questions about what’s really going on with the finances of Bravehearts and how the millions of dollars of public money it receives is being spent, and what impact these funded services are having on reducing instances of child sexual abuse and helping victims to heal.

I don’t get why they think its acceptable to play the man rather than the ball and attack the people calling them to account by hurling abusive and hurtful lies and invented assertions at them publicly, when all the victim of their vitriol and imagined claimed sins has actually done is to tell it like it is and call them to account for their actions.

I don’t get it.

I guess my world view is just warped.

Oh to have a straight one like that pair, and that I might only have respect for everyone and everything like they do.

Wouldn’t the world be such a better and brighter place?

Maybe we could get Hetty and my old mate to run it.

After all, they get it.

They’re the only ones that do.

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Hetty Johnston to your author, last week, after I re-raised the issue of Braveheart’s expenditure of public funds in an article on this site. Who do you reckon is really the angry, twisted nest of hate in this two person show?