This affects men too

This video is amazing.  It's just under 20 minutes long, and it is fantastic.  (If you don't have time to watch all of it, start from about 3.50 - however, the entire video is amazing, so if you have the time - do watch it all!)

For those that say that men can't be feminists - watch this video.  For those that say that gender violence is a "women' issue", watch this video.

For those that want to stand up for what is right - watch this video.

For those that think feminism has no place in modern society - watch this video.

For those that think that men aren't affected by our patriarchal society - watch this video.

Don't really know what more to say - but watch this video (especially if you're a man).

Victim Blaming

I should never have to write a post about victim blaming.  Our society should support victims, should listen to them, and should help them.  Instead, our society says "it's your fault for getting raped.  You should have known better.  You shouldn't have put yourself in the sort of situation that leads to rape."

Our society never blames the rapist.  In fact, our society sympathises with rapists.  You only need to look at the reactions to the Steubenville rape case recently.  The public supported the rapists - after all, they're just young boys that don't know the difference between right and wrong.  How could they possibly know that repeatedly having sex with an unconscious girl was rape?  How could they possibly know that urinating on said girl was abusive?  How could they possibly know that laughing about raping her and filming themselves raping her was wrong?

There was a huge public outcry.  Not, I might add, to demand justice, but to demand leniency for the rapists.  Those poor boys have had their lives destroyed.  Those poor boys are now in jail.  Those poor boys.

What about the poor girl?  She was raped.  Those 'poor boys' forced themselves on her.  They took advantage of her.  Their lives were destroyed?  What about hers?  She has to live with the knowledge that her peers are calling her a slut and wishing that she would die.  People took to twitter to wish her dead.  People said that the boys had learnt their lessons and it wasn't worth ruining their lives over.  Even celebrities backed the rapists, by claiming it was the girl's fault for drinking too much.

That's right, of course!  By having a few drinks you're telling everyone around you that you want to have sex, that you want people to have sex with you while you're unconscious, that you want to be urinated on and that you want to be filmed being abused.  Silly me, how could I forget? 

After all, you have to be so careful nowadays.  Don't wear revealing clothes - but don't look like a prude either.  Don't sleep around - but sleep with enough people so you're not a 'tease'.  Don't walk home alone, don't walk home with acquaintances - in fact, don't walk home at all.  But don't take a taxi either - because the taxi driver might not be able to resist you.  Don't make yourself 'too attractive' so you won't attract the wrong kind of attention.  But don't look ugly either - because if you don't fit society's idea of attractiveness, then you're lucky to get raped in the first place.  After all, only attractive people get raped.

I know, how about instead of having all of these do's and don'ts for potential victims, we have only one rule for potential rapists?  DON'T RAPE.  There, simple.

I'm sick and tired of hearing people blame the victims.  WE ARE NOT AT FAULT.

And it's exactly this attitude - this victim blaming - that stops rape victims from coming forward.  It's why I waited 5 years after the abuse ended to finally tell the truth.  It's why I never said anything while it was happening.  Because I knew that I would be blamed.  I was 12 when it started, but I knew that it was my fault.  Because, after all, only 'sluts' (I hate that word) get raped.  Only bad girls are abused.

I waited for years because I was afraid that no one would believe me.  As it turns out, it was right that I waited.  It took those 5 years to build up my strength and courage.  As a young victim, I would not have been able to handle the backlash that was sent my way.  Close friends asking me 'why I didn't just put a stop to it'.  A friend's boyfriend asking me 'who would want to rape you?'.  Someone even told me that they think most rape charges are false and that the guys (ie RAPISTS) are hard done by.  Being told that the rape charges were being dropped as it was a case of 'he said she said'.  The child abuse chargers were accepted, and we went to trial.  At trial it felt like I was raped all over again.  My life was scrutinised.  I was accused of being a liar, told that I was making things up; that it was a fantasy in my head.

(Please not - I am SO glad to have finally told people.  Because most people stood by me - my family, my friends that mattered, and the police.  I was believed.  I was able to finally start healing.  I stood up to him.  I took my power, my life, back.)

Every day, survivors are having to stand up and fight to be heard, to put the blame where it really lies - on the rapist.  We are having to explain what it means to be raped.  We have to explain, over and over and over again, why it is NOT OUR FAULT.  We are having to shout I DID NOT WANT TO BE RAPED.  And time and time again we are ignored.  Time and time again people stand by the rapist.  

There is so much evidence out there that clearly show that as a society, we criminalise a rape victim and support the rapist.  You only need to look at that time a judge stated in court that it wasn't a real rape, but just a technical rape.  Or read the statistics that explain why cops don't believe rape victims.  Or read this beautifully written blog entry written by a rape survivor, explaining how she was raped.  Or read this disgusting article blaming Nigella Lawson for being the apparent victim of domestic violence. Or type in Google 'rape victim blamed' or 'rape victim shaming'.  The results should disgust you.

I just do not understand why, in this day and age, we are still victim blaming.  We are enlightened in so many ways, and yet we are still failing so miserably.  We are putting the blame on the victim, instead of on the person that committed the crime.  In what kind of world does that make any sort of sense?

There is hope

It's been a long time since I last posted.  I've been focusing on enjoying life and living it, instead of trying to analyse how I'm feeling and why I'm feeling that way.  It's been nice to get out of my own head for a while and just roll with things.  And you know what?  I've realised that I am actually enjoying life.

I never thought it would be possible.  I was convinced that I would be in the throes of depression, insomnia & PTSD for the rest of my life.  I was convinced that I would always suffer from flashbacks & nightmares.  Luckily, I was wrong.  Flashbacks are few and far between - it's been over a month since my last one.  Likewise, I haven't had any nightmares about my abuse & rape in a long time.  My sleeping has also improved tremendously.

I spent about a month trying to kick my insmonia's ass, and I have!  I forced myself to get up early in the morning and refusing myself any naps during the day.  I forced myself to go to bed at a reasonable hour at night and didn't allow myself to get up when sleep eluded me.  Instead I forced myself to stay in bed until I finally drifted off to sleep.  This did mean that for about a month I was a wreck, surviving on only a few hours of disturbed sleep a night.  But then something wonderful happened - I started to sleep for 4 hours at a time, then for 6 hours and now I generally sleep between 8-10 hours a night.  Amazing!  I've had insomnia since I was an early teen, so being able to sleep through the night is fantastic.  I'd forgotten how good sleep can be! It's wonderful.  Mind you - if I had been at university or at work I wouldn't have been able to kick my insomnia's ass, as I was barely functioned during that month and could not have worked or studied.  It makes me realise how right the university was on insisting I take a year out.

So - I am now finding myself in a much happier place.  My smiles are real.  My laughter is real.  I am not acting, I am not pretending.  I am actually happy.

This isn't to say that I don't have my down days though, because I do.  My depression and PTSD aren't quite cured yet either.  They're the best they've ever been, but they're still there.  Also, every now and then a smell or a sound or a phrase will remind me of him and what he did to me.  However - I think about him less and less.  Days (even a week) can go by without me thinking about what happened.  Hopefully this will continue, until weeks or months have passed between me thinking about him and the abuse.

I also still flinch and jump a lot.  I still find physical contact quite difficult and I still have trust issues.  I'm working on it though.  (As a side-note, if you know me in real life and want to help - lots of physical contact is a good thing; hugs, touch on the arm whilst talking etc).   

So, you ask, what have I been doing with my time?  Well, I am now a qualified first aider (hurrah!).  I have been mourning my best friend (it was a year yesterday that she died).  I've been sorting things out for the move (in a few months I'll be moving in with a good friend of mine).  I've been working through my issues with my psychologist  I've been socialising with my friends and I've been going backwards and forwards to various doctors. I was recently diagnosed with Type 3 Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, which is a hypermobility disorder.  Unfortunately, one of the main symptoms of Type 3 EDS is chronic pain, which means that some days the pain is so severe that all I can do is lie in my bed and try and find a position that doesn't hurt. However - at least I'm not spending days in bed due to depression!!

So, what I want to say is this: there is hope.  Things will get better.  It takes a lot of time, a lot of effort and a lot of support, but eventually things do get better.  The changes start off small - they're barely noticeable, until suddenly you realise that your laughter is genuine, or you've gone a couple of nights without a nightmare or you realise it's been days since you last thought about your abuser.

I know how that sounds.  People told me that eventually my life would continue and I would move on, that I would forget about the abuse.  I never believed them.  I just could not imagine myself ever moving on from my childhood.  But I'm here to tell you that it's true.  Life does get better.  Of course there will still be days when it's pretty bad, where all you can think about is the abuse.  But those days become fewer and farther apart.  And whilst I don't think I will ever forget about the years of abuse, I do believe that eventually it will fade into the background of my mind.

There is hope.  Life does continue.  It will get better.  I'm living proof of that.

The problem

All in all, I'm doing alright.  I'm getting my life back on track.

But sometimes I feel as if I'm not doing it fast enough.  I feel as if people are thinking "you've got the guilty verdict, you've got the amazing sentencing, everything worked out so much better than expected - so why aren't you healed?  Move on with your life already".

I feel like there is a huge expectation for me to suddenly be magically better.  It feels like I shouldn't have any problems anymore.  It seems like people expected all of my problems to disappear with the guilty-verdict.  I can see their point - the perpetrator of those crimes is behind bars, and will be for a long, long time.  Believe me - that thought alone still makes me want to do a little happy dance and shout with joy.  I feel like my life is just starting while his is over.

So what's the problem, you ask?

The problem is I still have nightmares.  The problem is that I still have triggers that will bring back a memory I'd rather not remember.  Not a flashback - those are awful, and thankfully, they are very infrequent - but a very vivid memory.  One can pop up at any time and knock the breath out of me.  I still haven't figured out all the triggers - certain music, a turn of phrase, a topic of conversation, a smell, a picture...

The problem is that his face still pops in to my mind when I close my eyes.  I'm not scared of him anymore, I could look him in the eye.  But it's still not a face I want in my mind before going to sleep.

The problem is that I still flinch.  I'm still wary.  I still don't trust.

I want more than anything to be 'normal'.  To go to bed before 4am and wake up before noon.  To finish university, to hold a steady job, to be able to provide for and look after myself.  I'm getting there, slowly.  But it's going to take time.  Hopefully by the time university starts again in October, I'll be ready.

But right now, I'm not.  I know full well that I am still a mess.

Memories that I had buried, are now coming to the surface.  I'd rather forget them.

I feel like people expect me to be better and to be this strong woman that can handle anything, when in fact, I still have days where I can barely bring myself to get out of bed.

I know there comes a point where "enough is enough and you need to move on".  The last thing I want to do is 'bore' people with what's going around my head, especially when people have their own things going on.  I don't want to be that person that can't move on with their life.  I don't want to be that person that people avoid talking to because they're stuck in the past.

But at the same time - I'm not magically healed.  There is no set healing time for 5 years of abuse, and rape.  It will take time.  I am going to have bad days.  I am going to be triggered about something.  But I am also going to pick myself up after a bad day and do my damned hardest to make the next day a good day.

The bottom line?  I don't want to be a burden on my friends and family.  I don't want them to feel like I'm wallowing.  I want to get my life back on track.  I know that if I stay in the past, I'll stay hurt and I'll stay a victim.  I can't heal unless I'm in the present and looking towards the future.  I'm working on it.  It's just not always easy.

One Billion Rising

It's been almost a month since I last wrote in here.  Not because I didn't have anything to say, but just because I wanted to take a break for a bit.  For the past two years my life has revolved about being either a rape victim or a rape survivor, and writing about it.  For the past month, I've just wanted to be me - I wanted to feel the emotions, and not have to describe and explain them.  I just wanted to 'be' for a while.

So, I've taken the break, and now I'm back.  What have I been doing?  I'm currently training to become a First Aider with St John's Ambulance.  The course is fantastic and I'm thoroughly enjoying it.  However, it's not easy going.  I still struggle with depression and insomnia, which means that getting up early to go to the classes isn't easy.  In fact, it's left me very drained and exhausted, and I've had to reschedule the exam.  I'm not giving up though - baby steps.

I know most people reading this will think I'm being a drama queen; 'you struggle with getting up in the morning?  Join the club.  You're just lazy'.

This is not the case.  I have insomnia, which means I struggle to get to sleep.  An average night for me looks like this: I go to bed at 9pm.  I falls asleep, and then wake up at 10.pm.  I lie in bed, tossing and turning.  I fall asleep at 3am.  I wake up at 4am.  I fall asleep at 4.30am.  I wake up at 5.30am.  I fall asleep at 6.30am.  My alarm goes off at 7am.

I've quit smoking for over 2 months.  I've been spending a lot of time with my friends.  And I've been involved with One Billion Rising.

One Billion Rising is happening tomorrow all over the world.  Why 'One Billion Rising?'.  Because it's estimated that One Billion women will be either raped or abused in their lifetime.   This is unacceptable.  So, all over the world, women and men are coming together in protest.  There will be dancing, there will be speeches, and hopefully there will be change.

If you're interested in attending one near you, why not click on THIS LINK.

Some of the banners we made for the rising tomorrow

I'm really looking forward to tomorrow.  I hope there will be a good turnout - a hell of a lot of planning and organising has gone in to it (my part in it has been tiny).  It is a cause that is very close to my heart - it is time we stopped living in a society where women are STILL considered second class citizens.

So come on people, find where there will be a rising tomorrow, and join!  But most importantly - have fun whilst rising!

Facing him

I did it.  I faced the monster from my nightmares.  And I realised that he is nothing but a cowardly little weasel.

I hardly slept at all the night before.  I couldn't eat anything in the morning.  I kept thinking "in a few hours I will come face to face with the man that ruined my childhood".  I was terrified.

My Mum and I arrived at the courthouse at about 9.30am.  My Aunt arrived soon afterwards.  The sentencing ended up being at about 10.30am.  Walking in to the courtroom was slightly terrifying - his family and friends were already seated on the left side, and all of them glared at us.  It was slightly intimidating.  However - I had my wonderful Police Liaison Officer with me, a detective and security.  I was safe.

He entered.  The judge entered.  The barristers did their thing.  The whole thing took about an hour and a half.

I needed to build up my courage to look at him, but once I had built that courage up, I spent almost the entire time staring at him.  Throughout the 90 minutes, he looked my way only three times.  The first two times lasted for about a second - he could not actually bring himself to look directly at me.  In fact, he was determined to look anywhere but at me.

It wasn't until that moment - when he looked at me and then quickly looked away - that I realised something.  I realised that I am strong.  I realised that he is weak (my actual thoughts were "you pathetic, weasel-y little bitch").  People have been telling me this for a long time, that I am strong.  But I didn't feel strong myself, I didn't feel brave or courageous.  Until I realised that he couldn't bring himself to look at me.

What a pathetic, horrible little man.

And then when the judge started giving the sentences... oh how my heart soared!  She read through each charge, giving the sentencing for each one.  I was desperately trying to work out in my head what they all added up to.  I thought I must have made some sort of mistake... but then she said "that gives you a total of 13 years and two months".

13 years and two months!!!!!!!!

I wanted to scream, to jump up and down, to throw my hands up in the air.  But we had all been warned to keep our facial expressions blank, in case his family saw that as a reason to start a fight.

He obviously couldn't believe it either.  He was near tears.  Then he composed himself.  Then he was furious.   Then he looked at me.  I was looking at him.  He quickly looked away.

The judge then asked him to sit down, as she had something she wanted to say.  She then spoke to me.  What she said was lovely, I was almost in tears.  She said that she knows nothing will ever make up for what was done to me, that I have suffered a lot throughout the years, but that she hopes that now I can start to live my life and find peace and happiness.  It was beautiful.  And I love the fact that she made him listen to it.

He was then led away by security, shouting "I will prove my innocence" before the doors closed on him.

Whatever.

The remaining security then formed a barrier around us, so that his family could not get to us (I later found out that certain members of his family were looking at me in a very threatening way throughout the entire sentencing - I hadn't realised, as I was so focused on him).  We quickly left through the same entrance we came in (not the main entrance to the courtroom).

As soon as we were out of that room we burst in to smiles and were hugging each other.  What an amazing result!  I honestly wasn't expecting it.  I thought that the best we could hope for was 5 years, but that he would most likely only get 2.  So for him to get 13 years and 2 months... it's just brilliant.  It's the perfect number - he started abusing me when I was 12, which is 13 years ago.  For 13 years I have lived in fear - now it's his turn.

We left the courthouse about an hour later.  We had to leave through a different entrance, as his family were standing guard at the main entrance.  It would appear that they were waiting for me.  Luckily the police stayed with me, and we were walked to our cars.

It's over.  It's really and truly over.  I feel like I finally have closure.

I know that I still have a long way to go - I still have depression, PTSD and insomnia.  But... my abuser and rapist is behind bars.  He was too afraid to look at me.  And by God, does that feel good!

13 years and two months!!

Short entry

Tomorrow is the sentencing.  Tomorrow I will see him.  And he will see me.

The Probation Service have given their recommendation for his sentencing, and tomorrow we will find out what it is.  The sentencing is at 10am.  I'll be meeting my Police Liaison Officer beforehand.  She's said there might be one or two police officers around with us.  Just in case.

I will admit it - I'm nervous.  Very nervous.  Slightly scared and intimidated.  But I'm also determined.  And strong.  I am going to walk in there tomorrow with my head held high.  I am a survivor.  He did not destroy me.  I am going to face up to my nightmare.  I am not scared of him.  I will face him.  I will look him right in the eye and show him that I am not afraid.

More waiting

We drove down South on the 3rd, it was a 7 hour drive.  We stayed over at my Grandparents' house, and on the 4th we drove to the courthouse.  It was weird being back in the witness area.  The last time I was there, I was full of uncertainty and just praying and hoping that the jury would find him guilty.

This time around, I was getting myself ready for finally facing him, for looking him in the eye and showing him that he did not break me, that I am strong, that I have the rest of my life to live.

But as it turned out, that didn't happen.  He was meant to have been interviewed by the probation service in December, to see what - if any - type of threat he is.  The probation service didn't interview him.  Which meant the sentencing could not be done.  Which meant that we had come all this way for nothing.

It wasn't the police's fault, and it wasn't the judicial system.  It appears to just be one of those things, a mis-communication.  However, that doesn't make it any less frustrating.

I had geared myself up for seeing him.  I had hardly slept the previous night.  I was anxious, yet determined.  I was ready to face him.  And then I was told that that wasn't going to happen.  I was about ready to burst in to tears of frustration.

So we drove back up North.  Exhausted.

The new sentencing date is on the 16th of this month.

Sentencing Tomorrow

Just a quick entry today, will talk about the holidays at a later point.

I'm going back to the courthouse tomorrow for his sentencing.  My Impact Statement will be read out, the lawyers will do their thing, and the judge will decide how long he should go to jail for.  I will be sitting in the courtroom, in the gallery, with my Mum & my Aunt.

I don't want to do this, but I need to do this.  I need to see him, to put the image that I have of him as a monster, to rest.  He is just a man - a weak, pathetic man.  And I need to see that to move on.

The last time I saw him was when he raped me.  Tomorrow I will see him sentenced to jail.

I'm nervous and anxious.  I don't want to see him, but I need to.