Affecting others

I like to watch Private Practice. When I can't sleep, it's what I watch. For those of you that don't know what it is, it's a spin-off series from the series Grey's Anatomy. It's what I watch (well, at the minute it is, it used to be the Vampire Diaries, then Grey's Anatomy, or the rabbits frolicking outside my window). Except last episode, one of the main characters got raped.

I don't fall apart when I hear the word 'rape', nor do I break down crying when watching something on TV and rape is featured in it. I haven't quite gotten to the stage where I can listen to rape jokes, but other than that I'm okay. I can watch movies where one of the characters gets raped. I can watch the news as they report a sexual attack. I'm okay.

But this time... I don't know what got me this time. Maybe because it's one of my favourite shows. Maybe because in movies something about the rape is mentioned in the synopsis, or because you expect to hear that kind of thing on the news - which just goes to show what a sorry state our society is in.

The fact that this character got raped threw me. I wasn't expecting it to happen. It gave me a shock. I continued to watch. And I'm watching the other character's reactions to it.

After my rape happened, I shut it out. I didn't tell a soul. I didn't want to tell my parents because I knew it would hurt them. I tried to block it out. Well, we all know how that turned out.

The thing is, since I have told people, I haven't stopped to think about their reactions, their feelings. For so long, I kept it secret. So when I did finally let it out, it was a relief and I could focus on finally healing myself. What I haven't thought about is how what happened to me is affecting those around me.

Some people are uncomfortable; they don't know how to talk to me. They don't know how to act around me. They're scared of doing or saying the wrong thing. Other people are okay, for the most part, but take a few steps back after a blog entry. Some people avoid me. All of that is to be expected. And to those people - it's okay. It's okay to not talk about it with me. I'm still the same person as I was before you knew this about me. I haven't changed. It's also okay to say 'I read your blog, I don't really know what to say, I find it uncomfortable to talk about with you, but I'm still your friend'.

But what really hit me for the first time are how this must be affecting my parents. I hadn't let myself think about this for too long. But... I can't begin to imagine how they must be feeling. I'm their little girl, their baby. Someone hurt me. And I know they must think 'why couldn't I see this was happening? Why couldn't I protect her? Why couldn't I save her?'

As much as my parents want to protect me from the pain, I wanted to protect them from it as well. Because my parents are great parents, and I didn't want to hurt them. Except, I didn't hurt them. He did.

I am finally realising that it's not just me he's hurt. He has hurt everyone that loves me. And that angers me even more. It's one thing to hurt me - it's another thing entirely to hurt those I love.

I can't imagine what my parents must be going through. I know it's a parent's instinct to protect their child. But my parents didn't fail. I want them to know that. Because everyone gets a taste of the real world, eventually. My parents succeeded in raising me. They have given me the strength to carry on, to face my demons, to face him and to live. They are my rock. They raised me to be who I am. They love me unconditionally and support me. With their love, support and strength I am a rape survivor and not a rape victim. They have raised me to be a strong woman that doesn't give up, and is strong enough to seek support when I need it.

I wish there was something I could do or say to make them stop hurting. I know that as long as I hurt, they will hurt. Because they are great parents, and they feel my pain. I guess that's partly why they're great parents. But I want them to know that it wasn't their fault. There was nothing that either of them could have done. The blame lies solely on him.

So I want to take the time to thank my parents, for being the wonderful people that they are. And for my friends. Thank you.

Guilt

I just heard from my police liason officer. He said that other evidence has been found concerning someone else. This means that he will have to be interviewed again and another bail date has to be set. It also means that the CPS (Criminal Prosecuting Service) won't review my case until sometime in 2012. He couldn't give me any details.  But "concerning someone else" can only mean one thing.

I burst in to tears when I heard this. I was beside myself. All that kept going through my head was 'he did this to someone else'. Deep down I knew that I probably wasn't the only one that he had abused and raped, but I still hoped I was. I didn't want anyone else going through what I'm going through. But to have it confirmed... Knowing that he hurt someone else the way he hurt me... it made me feel sick to my stomach.

And guilty. Oh, I feel so guilty. If only I had spoken out before. If only I had gone to the police before. Then maybe this poor girl, whoever she is, would have been spared. If I had just done something sooner, then this girl wouldn't have gone through this. But I didn't. I kept quiet for six years. How many other girls has he hurt in those six years? Now I know there's definitely another girl, I also know there's bound to be more.

I know I have nothing to be guilty for - he did those things. He is the only one to blame. But I can't help think; I could have stopped this. I could have stopped him from hurting her, whoever she is. But, because I was too afraid to speak out, someone else's life has been torn apart. Someone else has suffered at the hands of him. Someone else is trying to piece themselves back together. All because I didn't say anything sooner.

Logically, I know this isn't my fault. It's his. Logically I know this. Yet... I also know that this guilt is going to be something I have to learn to live with for the rest of my life. Because I didn't say anything sooner, which gave him six years to find and hurt other girls.

Everything I have been through, everything I am going through - someone else is going through the same thing. All because I kept my mouth shut.

So yes, I burst in to tears. I went outside for a cigarette and called my Dad. I chain-smoked and cried. Some poor fresher girl walked past me, saw me crying and sat down and hugged me, and went to get me some tissues. Which made me cry even more - the kindness she gave out to me, would she still be so kind if she realised that because of my actions (or lack thereof) a girl had been sexually abused and probably raped?

I went back to my room. I thought all the tears had left me, then I saw myself in the mirror, and the tears came again. I knocked on a friend's door, burst in and sat on his bed and cried some more. He must have been pretty shocked to see me in that state, and I had clearly interrupted his work. But bless him - he didn't say anything, just held me as I finally, finally, got all the tears out of my system.

I wandered around college for a bit, wanting to socialise, to be with people. Then I realised I didn't know how to interact with anyone. I couldn't tell them what had just happened, what I had just found out. Who needs that kind of darkness in their lives?

So here I am.

I just feel so guilty. Somewhere out there, there is a girl going through what I am going through. There is another girl out there that was groomed by this evil bastard. There is another girl out there who was hurt, who will carry these scars with her for the rest of her life.

All because I didn't say anything.