Til It Happens To You

It's been a while since I last posted.  In all honesty, I wasn't planning on making any new posts.  I have closed the chapter on that part of my life - instead of living in the past, I am living in the now and focussing on my future.  Life is good.  Really good.

Sitting here now, I've had to stop and think about how many years ago the trial was.  Almost 3 years.  It feels like a life-time ago.  I have been living - and loving - my life.  It hasn't been smooth-sailing, there's been a lot of ups and downs.  My health isn't great - Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome being the main culprit (frequent joint dislocations, chronic pain, fatigue, migraines etc.).  Learning to live with an ever-worsening condition isn't fun, but (mainly thanks to my family & friends) it's manageable, and with physiotherapy I've managed to put the "worsening" part on hold for a while.  There have been problems with my family's health as well, and losing my Nana (this year) has been devastating.

However.  It is important to cherish the good parts of life - and there have been many good parts.   I'm now in my third year of university - finally!  The end result (my degree) is within sight!  Very exciting.  I'm no longer a social recluse - I have a fantastic set of people around me and am thoroughly enjoying going out & being with my friends (when I'm physically able to do so).  I have a beautiful Goddaughter that I love very much.  Her cheeky smile can brighten up anyone's day.  I've moved in to my own place - and am loving every minute of it.  I've been extremely lucky in that I've been able to travel with my family to wonderful and exotic places.  I've also started dating again.  And you know what?  Dating is fun!

Of course, there are moments.  These are happening less and less, thankfully.  However, I suspect they will never quite go away - what happened to me will always be there.  It's a part of my life and always will be, but I refuse to let it be the defining part of my life.  So when those moments do happen, it's important to acknowledge them, remind yourself how far you've come, deep breaths and then move on.  Of course, some moments last longer than others, and that's okay too.  But there's a fine line between acknowledging the moment and wallowing in it.  Believe me, I've done my fair share of wallowing in the past.  Whilst it was needed at the time, it is not a place I want to return to.  Nor is it a place that I have to fight to stay away from - I am genuinely happy within myself.  I love myself.  I respect myself.  I am confident and I have self-esteem.  I am a far cry from the woman I was 3 years ago.  And I am pretty proud of how far I've come.

To anyone reading this that feels like things are never going to get better, that you will never be able to "move on" (I hate that expression) - you will.  It takes time and energy and hard work, but you will.  Don't give up.  If need be, call a help-line (personally, the Samaritans worked for me), call a friend.  Talk to someone.  Reach out.  Because remember: you are not alone.

Okay, enough rambling.  This was only supposed to be a short entry!  Moving on to the reason for writing this post.

I've just watched Lady Gaga's new video "Til It Happens To You".

Luckily, there is a warning on the video so I was able to prepare myself.  But...

Holy cow.

Bloody hell.

It's a good video.  It's a really, really good video.  It's a video that needs to be seen, that needs to be talked about.  Because in all honesty, this shit needs to stop.

We're living in the 21st century - this should not be a common crime, it should not be an accepted crime and it should most definitely not be a crime where it is the victim that is blamed.  Ever.

Watching this video brought back unpleasant memories (to say the least).  However, for me personally, the ending is very powerful.  The message is loud and clear: unless you have personally experienced sexual assault or rape, you can't possibly imagine what it is to go through it.  For a time, it is a living hell.  However - whilst you can't understand, you can help bring someone back from their living hell, just by being there and being a supportive friend.  Don't bail when you're most needed.  Be there.

There is still a long way to go, but steps are being made.  Recently schools have started teaching young boys and girls (separately) how to avoid rape - by telling the young boys that if they see it happening to intervene.  They are teaching these young boys to respect women and to accept that no means no.  They are teaching them that rape is bad.  They are teaching them to not stand by, but to act.  And it's working.  More schools need to implement these programmes so that the survivors (both women & men) do not feel shame or blamed for being sexually assaulted.  There are a lot of mindsets that need changing.  A hell of a lot.  But slowly, we're getting there.

Because videos like this by popular artists are keeping this topic in the spotlight.  They keep the discussion going and they are supporting the ever-growing movement and they are slowly challenging the mindset of the group of people that believe that sexual assault or rape is sometimes justifiable.  No matter if the perpetrator is a male or female (or anything in between) or the victim is a male or female (or anything in between) - it is NEVER the survivor's fault.  Ever.

If you want to watch this very powerful video, here you go.  IMPORTANT: TRIGGER WARNING

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?

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!

Still nothing

Still no verdict yet.  If there’s one thing I've learnt, it’s that the law moves extremely slowly.  Apparently the judge alone gave a 3 hour closing speech.  Three hours.  Is that a good thing?  Or a bad thing?

I’m terrified that he will be found not guilty.  Everyone keeps telling me that no matter what happens; I've done all I can.  It’s completely out of my hands.  I need to move on with my life.  I agree with them.  But it’s not that easy.

Have I really done all I can?  Could I have been a stronger witness?  If only I hadn't deleted all of his emails, his texts, his voice-mails etc.  But I was a stupid kid, I wanted him out of my life.  After he raped me, I wanted to wipe him out of existence.  The closest I could get was wiping any and all evidence of him out of my life.  I can see now that that was an incredibly stupid thing to do.  Had I kept everything of his, then this would be an open and shut case.

He claims we met when I was 16.  My diary disproves that, but so would the emails.

He claims it was never sexual.  All the pictures would have disproved that.

He claims I’m making it all up.  Again; the pictures, the emails and the texts would disprove that.

I’m kicking myself right now.  But I was so convinced that no one would believe me, that I would just put a lid on it and get on with my life.  I never thought I would report him or take him to court.  But I have.  And I wish I still had those emails and pictures and texts. 

What if the jury says he’s innocent?  All of this will have been for nothing.  Except that the police are aware of him.  But still… I have no doubt about the fact that if he’s found innocent, that it will have a big impact on him.  One of the most difficult things I've ever had to do was go to the police and report him, be questioned about him and go to court.  If he’s found innocent, it means that I wasn't believed.  That I would make something like this up, that I would lie after having sworn on the Holy Bible, that I’m a liar.

One of the worst things for a child abuse victim/rape victim is to not be believed.  Now I need to wait and see if these 12 strangers believe me, or him.

Because I told the truth on the stand.  I was sworn in.  I held the Holy Bible and swore to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.  And I did.  Even when it made me look bad, I told the truth.  He didn't, he couldn't have.  Unless he admitted it, which I doubt.  He couldn't be telling the truth if he's disputing everything that I've said.

And my Aunt told me that his daughter was in the court, in the gallery.  Who the fuck would bring their daughter to a trial like this?  She’s only a teen.  Why would he do that?  Why would he put her through that?  Why would his wife allow it?  It’s sick.  Just sick.

I also worry – did he hurt his daughter?  He hurt me, but does that mean that he hurt his daughter as well?

One of the things that I will have to live with for the rest of my life is knowing that he could have hurt someone else.  I could have stopped that from happening, if I had spoken up sooner.  I pray that he hasn't hurt someone else, but I just don’t know.  And that kills me.  I will have to live with the uncertainty and guilt for the rest of my life.

I’m worried.  I’m really worried.  I want to know the verdict so I can deal with it.  Right now I feel like I’m living in limbo. 

I just want this to be over

Tomorrow...?

I’m full of flu at the minute, so I’m not exactly feeling great.

I've heard from the police, and was told that he testified today, and so did some people as a character witness.  When I heard this, I said to my parents; ‘what are they going to say?  That he’s such a nice guy for a pedophile?’ 

I have to joke at the minute – it’s either laugh or cry, and I've done enough crying.

I wish I knew what he said, what was asked, what the character witnesses said etc.  But I'm not allowed to know, not until it's all over.

Tomorrow are the closing speeches and then the jury retires to talk about the verdict.  So the verdict could be tomorrow.  I’m extremely nervous.  What if they find him innocent?  I would have gone through all of this for nothing.  Well, not for nothing.  No matter how this plays out, I don't regret finally telling the truth.  I don't regret going to the police.  It won't have been for nothing, because I - finally - stood up to him and I fought back.

I'm still pretty scared right now though.

And it sucks that I can’t make an appointment with my psychologist.  I’m desperate to talk to her, to talk about the trial, the impact it’s had on me etc.  But there’s a tiny chance that she could be called to give evidence, so we’re not allowed to talk.

I know that it’s the justice system, but it’s absolutely ridiculous.  Until the trial is over I’m not allowed to talk about it, so I’m just left with all these feelings and fears that I’m not allowed to give a voice to.  Not exactly great for my mental health.

But, tomorrow there should be a verdict.  Holy crap.

First day testifying

10:30am – I managed to get some sleep last night, but not much.  Kept waking up, had a lot of nightmares.  Dreamt about him.  He was chasing me, then caught me and he said ‘I’m very disappointed in you, this was meant to be our little secret, how could you do this to me?  Now you’ll never speak again’, and he ripped out my tongue.  It was horrible.

Right now I’m sitting in the witness area again.  I've had to give my permission for some medical details to be brought up, such as my PTSD.  Don’t really want him to know about it, but I am aware that it could help my case.  I’m realising very quickly that in a case like this, there is no such thing as privacy - my whole life is open to scrutiny.  Not his, but mine.

The witness area is quite busy, there are 4 other witnesses here today for various other cases.  Yesterday my parents and I were alone in the room, today we’re not.  It makes it more formal, more real somehow.

 

I’m also quite worried – I was told to apply for CICA, which I think stands for Criminal Injury Claim Association, or something like that, by my doctor.  So I applied for CICA.  I had never heard of it, and was told it’s the normal thing to do.  Now I've been told by the police that I shouldn't have done that, as the defense will say I’m making it all up for the money, which just isn't the case.  Yes, the money would help (seeing a psychologist is expensive, and that’s what I would spend the money on).  But if it came down to it, I want him to go to jail, I don’t want the money.

So stressed right now.  The fact that I have to read through my statement again and again isn't helping.  I’m reading myself describing the years of abuse over and over.  It’s not pleasant.  I want this to be over.

11:25am – I’m getting much better at this waiting game.  I've been in the witness area for almost 2 ½ hours.  I’m still very anxious and nervous, but I’m not in the same state as I was yesterday.  I’m managing to read my book (which is just some trashy chick-lit I picked up at a service station on the way down).  Time is moving a bit faster than yesterday, probably because I’m not pacing the room and twiddling my thumbs.

I just want this to be over, though.  I’m still dreading being cross-examined.  I've seen enough movies to know that the defense is going to put me through the wringer.  Everyone keeps telling me that it’s nothing personal, that she’s just doing her job.  I know this.  But at the same time, for me it is personal.  She is fighting to free the monster that abused me for 5 years and raped me.  How is that not personal?

She is defending the man that ruined my childhood.  She is protecting the man that stole my innocence.  She is sticking up for the man that raped me.  And she will be attacking me, the one that was sexually abused from the age of 12.

So yes, I know she is just doing her job.  But to me it is personal.  How can it not be?

1:10pm – I've been testifying.  The court has broken up for lunch, I've had a cigarette and some water.  I can’t eat.  I feel sick to my stomach.  It’s worse than I thought.  It’s absolutely terrifying.  And I've only been questioned by the prosecution.  If that was bad, how bad is the defense going to be?  I keep looking at the jury thinking; ‘you are going to decide whether he goes to jail or not.  You are going to decide whether he’s guilty or not’.  They’re normal; they look like normal people, nothing distinguishing about them.  Just members of the public.  They probably don’t even want to be here.  And they’re going to decide his future, and mine.

So far we haven’t gone in to detail.  E. (my barrister) has been asking me questions about my childhood; where I grew up, how many languages I speak, what subjects I took at school etc.  Then near the end she started asking about how old I was when I first met him online, what we talked about (in the beginning it was the current bands – the Spice Girls – and school, Eastenders, things like that.  After a few months it turned sexual, but gradually, so it seemed normal).

I was shaking the entire time.  Absolutely shaking.  I kept thinking, he’s in the same room as me.  He’s listening to this.  He’s in the same damn room as me.  It’s horrible, knowing that your abuser, your rapist, is sitting mere feet from you.  Yes, I can’t see him as I’m sitting behind a screen.  But I know he’s there, listening. 

I hate this.  I want it over.

6:10pm – It was awful.  I’m in my hotel room right now, after being interrogated for 2 ½ hours.  It was horrendous.

First the prosecution interviewed me, which was difficult in itself.  I had to say exactly what happened; what he did, what he made me do etc.  It was horrible and humiliating.  Then the prosecution had her turn.  It was horrendous.  I was preparing myself for the worst, and it was so much worse than that.

She told me that in reality, he and I had only conversed for up to 9 months, not 5 years.  That we had started talking when I was 16.  That it was never sexual.  I kept saying ‘no, no, no’ to everything.  But she made me out to be a complete liar.  Then she used some stories that I had written – I used to fancy myself as an author – and said that if I could write those, then I obviously had a good imagination and could go down to the smallest detail, just like I was doing with this case.  That it was all in my head.

She said I was doing it for the money (the CICA thing).  That I was exaggerating.  On and on and on, until I broke down crying.  It was absolutely horrendous.  And the worst part is, I have no idea if the jury believed her.  It really could go either way.  She was so convincing.

But, the good part?  I now have no feelings whatsoever about him.  I no longer care about him.  At all.  I don’t want to protect him.  I don’t want to make his life easier.  I despise him.  I utterly despise him.  I know I need to work on that, I need to find it in myself and in God to forgive him.  But right now, I hate him.

At 4:30 I was told I could leave, but that I had to go back tomorrow.  I went back to the witness area, saw my parents and burst in to tears again.  I am now completely drained.

6:20pm – I've had a few thoughts.  The first – I kept diaries as a child.  I threw most of them out, or they got lost in the move from Belgium to England.  But I know I kept one from when I was 13 or 14.  I asked a friend up North (who has the keys to our house) to search for it.  They found it!!  I have no idea what I wrote, but he was such a big part of my life, so I must have written about him.  They’re posting it up to the hotel, so that I can give it to the police tomorrow. At least it will prove that he’s a liar, that we were talking when I was younger than 16.

The other thing that keeps going round in my head is that he’s saying we've never met, that we only talked online for at most 9 months.  Complete and utter bullshit.  He admitted to the police when he was first questioned that when I was 17 we had sex.  He said it was consensual.  It wasn't.  But in his statement he said that we had sex.  But I’m not allowed to bring that up.  Why the fuck not?  It would show that he’s a liar.  The law is protecting him, the rapist, not me, the victim.  Why the fuck am I not allowed to mention it, but not use the word ‘rape’?  It would show the jury that he’s a liar, that he lied about that so he’s lying about the rest.

I told the truth.  The whole painful truth, even when it made me look bad.  I told the truth.  So why the fuck can I not point out something that obviously proves he’s a liar?

Okay.  Breathe.  Calm down.  I’m just so frustrated.  Today was hell.  It was 100 times worse than I was expecting.  It was horrendous.  At first I was upset, I cried, I was shaking.  Now I’m furious.  Why does the law protect him and not me?

I’m also wondering why I bothered to report it.  The defense asked that question as well.  She said something along the lines of ‘if what you say is true, why didn't you report it immediately, why wait until you were in your 20s – he could have done it to someone else’.  That is something that I will always blame myself for – if he’s done it to someone else.  But I was scared and at first I didn't realise it was abuse and rape.  Then I thought too much time has passed to do anything about it.  It was only when I told my parents and they believed me and asked me if I wanted to report it, that I realised I really did want to report it.

But seriously, I've just been put through hell.  And the jury might believe him.  So what was the point?

I’m exhausted.  I’m drained.  I want to go home.

6:55pm – I keep going over and over in my head what I was asked, and the answers I should have given.  I can think of so many better answers.  I’m kicking myself.  I wish the justice system was like in America, where the lawyers are allowed to prepare you and give you practice questions and anticipate what the defense will ask.  I was completely unprepared, and I fear I've ruined it.

8:30pm – Memories are coming flooding back.  Things I don’t want to remember.  I’m trying to get to sleep.  I’m so tired.  But every time I close my eyes, I’m flooded with memories.  I want to forget.  But I can’t.  And I’m remembering more and more, it’s horrible.

Travelling down

I wasn't allowed to update this blog while the trial was going on, and I wasn't allowed to talk to anyone until the jury had reached a verdict.  However, I still kept a record of what was going on, and wrote everything down in a Word document.  I’m now posting what I wrote on the days that it happened.   I apologize for the swearing, but these are my actual feelings at the time that I wrote it.

18/11/12, evening

So the defense have managed to get their hands on my blog.  That means that for the duration of the trial, I can’t update it.  Instead, I’m following the advice of a friend and writing it in a Word document, to post online later.

I’m currently in London.  The drive down wasn't too bad – I was asleep for the entire journey (didn't get much sleep the night before).  I’m now sitting in my hotel room, reading, surfing the net, watching TV; anything to keep me distracted, to stop me thinking about tomorrow.

I’m absolutely terrified.  I’m now wondering if the defense will use my blog against me.  I don’t think they will, as all I've written about are my feelings.  I don’t regret starting my blog and writing in it – it shows everything that I’m going through.  I am not ashamed of being abused and raped. I am not ashamed of suffering from depression and PTSD.  I am not ashamed of anything that I have done that is a direct (or indirect) result from the years of abuse.  They are a true reflection of everything that has happened to me since the abuse and since going to the police. I will not be quiet; I will not hide in the corner.  I was sexually abused as a child.   I was raped as a teenager.  That is not my fault, and I will not sugar-coat any of the effects it has had on me.

This is my blog.  I am a rape survivor and this is my journey to recovery.  We live in a rape-culture society, and I will NOT sit in a corner and quietly try and fix myself.  I will NOT stay quiet in case I offend someone or make someone uncomfortable.  We live in a society where women are taught not to get raped, instead of teaching men not to rape.  My story (and other stories like mine) need to be heard if there is any chance of changing the view that ‘women ask for it’.

Anyway.  I’m scared.  I will admit that.  I am terrified.  Tomorrow I testify.  Tomorrow I will have to relive 5 years of abuse in front of total strangers.  I will do it.  But I am terrified.

11.55pm – I've been trying to get to sleep for the past hour and a half.  No luck.  I’m absolutely exhausted, but sleep just won’t come.  No surprise there.  My parents said I could wake them up if I couldn't sleep – they would keep me company.  But in all honesty, I just want to be alone right now.  I’m terrified about tomorrow.

Hopefully I’ll just have to testify the one time.  But it’s possible that I could be called to the stand again, unless the judge dismisses me.  I hope he dismisses me tomorrow.

I’m completely unprepared for tomorrow.  If I was in America then my lawyer would prepare me, would ask me the type of questions that the defense might ask me.  I've not even met my lawyer.  The way the system works in the UK, I have to be completely unprepared.  I have no idea what kind of questions the prosecution and the defense will ask.  It’s pretty daunting.

I’m also dreading having to describe the abuse in front of everyone.  It was hard enough giving the statement, and that was in front of 3 people (two of which I couldn't see, as they were filming it).  So yeh, I’m dreading it.

I’m also wondering what he is doing right now.  Is he as worried about tomorrow as I am?  More so?  And I hate myself for this, but a part of me feels sorry for him.  Part of me still cares about him.  I know that is the abused child in me talking.  I know he groomed me, he molded me into his perfect little victim and he didn't give a rat’s ass about me.  But a tiny part of me still cares about him.  And I hate myself for it.

It’s difficult to explain why.  I don’t even understand why.  This man stole my childhood, my innocence.  He abused me for 5 years and he raped me.  So why the hell is there a part of me that feels guilty for putting him through this, why do I feel like I’m betraying his trust?  It doesn't make any sense.  I want to see him rot in jail; I want to see him punished for what he did to me.  But I also feel sorry for him.

So yeh, my emotions are all over the place at the minute.

And it’s just hit me – if the defense has the link to my blog, then that means he does as well.  Has he read what I've said?  I don’t edit my blog – I say it how it is.  I want people to realise the devastation that abuse and rape causes, and the only way to do that is to be completely honest with myself and everyone that reads this.  Which I guess includes him now.

I hate the fact that he could read my blog.  He’s already taken so much from me, why did he have to take the place where I write my unedited feelings down?  Not only did he mold me in to his very own toy, not only did he steal my childhood and corrupt my view on relationships, now he’s taking the one place where I can write openly about the impact his abuse has had on me.

That really, really sucks.  But I’m not going to stop writing.  He made me this way, he made me weak.  I’m not weak anymore and I’m not going to let him stop me from writing this blog.  I will not be silenced.

As you can see, there are some very conflicting emotions there.  I hate him, I despise him.  But a tiny part of me still cares about him.  And I hate that part of me so much – but not as much as I hate him.  Which I guess shows just how much work I need to do to forgive him.  I'm no where near forgiving him yet.

The day after tomorrow

I travel down to London tomorrow.  Then on Monday the trial starts.  Right now, it doesn't feel real.  After almost 2 years of waiting, is the trial really happening tomorrow?  It really doesn't feel real.

The other night I went out to some pubs with my friend A.  It was exactly what I needed.  We chatted, we laughed, we teased.  It was a fantastic night.  However, when I got back home, I couldn't get to sleep.  No matter how hard I tried, sleep just would not come.  In the end, I fell asleep at about 6AM.  Not good, as I had a doctor's appointment at 9AM.  I was absolutely exhausted.  I did manage to have a nap during the day though, which helped some.

I was also meant to be going out for a friend's birthday.  First I dropped my parents off at a local pub, then I came back home to get ready.  I picked my parents back up a few hours later.  Then exhaustion just hit me. I could barely keep my eyes open.  I had to cancel my plans for the evening.  I was pretty dissapointed - was so looking forward to going out clubbing with all my friends.  But I just couldn't do it, I needed sleep.

Today I haven't done much.  I was in town and did some shopping.  Helped out around the house.  Played the Sims3.  Just things to keep me distracted and not think about the next few days.

Tomorrow I'm driving down to London.  The day after tomorrow the trial starts.

Holy crap.

Preparing myself

I've been having a bit of a down day today.  I've done nothing I was meant to do, haven't been able to find the energy.  The past few days I've been on a bit of a high as I was keeping myself very, very busy.  But this morning when I woke up, I knew I was in a low.

I've had worse days.  I've not had any flashbacks.  I've not had any PTSD symptoms.  I just feel down.  Think I've run out of energy and my mind is saying;  'ENOUGH, you're going to go through something horrible on Monday, stop burying your head in the sand and DEAL WITH IT.  You need to prepare yourself.  Running around making yourself exhausted is not the way to go.  Figure out your emotions, walk through what will happen in your mind, prepare yourself as best as you can.  STOP PRETENDING you're okay, because you're not, you're worried.  DEAL WITH IT.'

So, today I'm dealing with it.  I'm imagining what will happen.  On Sunday we'll drive down to London.  I'll probably sleep most of the way.  When we arrive in our hotel, I'll try and make myself at home in my room.  I'm going to bring some pictures with me, because I know that after Monday, I'll want to return to a place that feels safe and familiar.  I doubt I'll get any sleep Sunday evening.

Monday, I'll have to be up bright and early.  I'll shower, get dressed, try and eat something.  Then we'll drive to the court house, where I will meet up with my Police Liaison Officer (who I have never met, as the guy that was my PLO for the duration of the investigation has retired).  I'll enter the court house through the side entrance and sit and wait in the witness area.  I'll try and read the book that I brought with me.  I'll look out the window.  I'll pace around.  I won't want to talk to anyone.  I'll try and write some (bad) poetry.  I'll keep checking the clock, until finally, I'm called to testify.

Then I will walk in to the empty courtroom, where a curtain will be put around me in the witness box.  The court room will fill up with the jury, lawyers, people in the gallery, and him.  First the prosecution will question me.  Then the defense will question me, and try to make me out to be the perpetrator  and not the victim.  I will probably break down and cry.  Once the questioning has finished, everyone will leave the court room, then I will leave the courtroom and go back to the witness area, and wait to be called up again.

In the witness room, I will probably cry a bit and be in shock from what just happened.  I will probably be very shaken.  I'll try and eat something, if I can stomach anything.  I won't want to talk to or touch anyone.  I know that will be difficult for my parents, they will want to comfort me.  But I will have just re-lived 5 years of sexual abuse, and will not want to be touched.

We will go back to our hotel.  I'll probably withdraw in to myself, as I try and process all that has happened. I'll go to my room and calm myself down.  I'll probably be exhausted so will want to sleep.  I'll need to factor food in at some point, if I can stomach it.  Then the whole thing will be repeated on Tuesday.  I will also probably be chain smoking the entire time.

Okay.

Okay.

That's not too bad.  Nowhere in my scenario will I run in to him - precautions have been made, that will not happen.  Yes, the defense will try and break me.  But I've been broken before, and I've rebuilt myself from scratch - I'm a pretty damn strong woman now, and whatever s/he says won't break me.  They are only words, s/he is only doing his/her job.  I am safe, I will not be physically attacked.  Yes, s/he will try and trip me up and make out that it was my fault that I was sexually abused.  But I can deal with that.  I'm strong.

I can do this.  I will do this.

I'm not a trusting child, or a frightened teenager.  I am a strong woman that is facing up to the demons of my past.  And I'll be damned if he ever breaks me again.

7 days

Time seems to be moving very quickly.  It seems like just yesterday that I was waiting for news on when the trial will be.  Now, the trial is only a week away.

I'm getting more and more anxious the closer it gets.  Sleeping has become extremely difficult.  I'm having horrible nightmares and often wake up several times during the night.  I wake up with a start, with my heart pounding.  It takes me several minutes for my breathing to go back to normal and to realise that I'm in no danger, that I'm safe in my bed.  Once awake, it then takes a while for me to get back to sleep.  Once I do finally manage to get back to sleep, I'm soon stuck in another nightmare and find myself waking up again.  It's a never-ending cycle of nightmares, waking up and calming myself, falling back asleep and having another nightmare.

This all means that during the day, I'm absolutely exhausted.

I have a busy week this week.  I've purposefully crammed as much in this week as I can, as I find that whenever I have a spare few moments, my thoughts drift to the upcoming trial.  There are several things that I worry about.  I worry about the defense questioning me, and making it appear as if I, at 12 years old, wanted to be abused.  I'm worried that they'll twist my words, that they'll fire question after question and I'll break down on the stand.  I'm worried about running in to him, even though I know ever precaution possible will be taken so that I won't see him - I come in through a different entrance, I'll remain in a different part of court that is for witnesses only, I won't even go to the cafeteria.  But still, I worry.  I worry that the jury won't believe me.  I worry that at the last minute my case will be dropped.  I worry that he will be found not guilty. I worry a lot at the minute.

I wish more than anything that my best friend was here.

So, there's a lot on my mind at the minute.  I'm coping by taking each day as it comes.  Today I went shopping for Christmas presents (which was quite difficult, as my best friend loved Christmas, and I loved shopping for her Christmas present).  Tomorrow I'm sorting through my room and clothes, and packing up anything I don't use/want/wear.  On Wednesday I'm sorting out everything that needs to be done for my Murder Mystery party - there's a surprising amount of work involved in setting it all up.  On Thursday I'll be doing work for my British Sign Language class, and then go to the class in the evening.  On Friday I'll be doing more work for the murder mystery party as well as going out for a friend's birthday in the evening.  On Saturday I'm having my hair done and packing my bag.  On Sunday I'm going down to London.  And on Monday the trial starts.

Keeping busy is the key.  Because if I'm not busy, my mind races with all the possible things that could go wrong next week.  Unfortunately, keeping myself busy whilst surviving on very little sleep means I'm completely shattered.  And that means that I'm wound up pretty tight at the minute - I'm bursting in to tears over the smallest thing.  Which is very unlike me - I don't usually cry very easily.  My PTSD is also pretty bad at the minute; I'm jumping and flinching at everything, I'm very anxious and afraid, and flashbacks are quite frequent at the minute.

So, emotions are running high, and energy is running low, and sleep is almost non-existent.

I will be glad when next week is over.

Rape Jokes

Not so long ago, a friend of mine, Elin Box, wrote an article (link can be found at the end of this blog) about rape jokes.  It’s something I’ve been thinking about for quite a while.  Unsurprisingly, I have a lot to say about this topic.  (Note: I’m talking about rape jokes that are offensive to rape victims, not rape jokes that highlight what’s wrong with our attitude towards rape.)  But first, let me tell you about an experience I had with rape jokes as a fresher at university.

I was sitting with a group of people – as it was the first term, we were all just starting to get to know each other.  Most of those people have turned out to be really great friends, but at the time we were pretty much strangers to each other.  One of the guys started to make rape jokes.  Everyone laughed, or rolled their eyes.  I was extremely uncomfortable.  At this point, I had only told one person at university that I had been raped.  Rape joke after rape joke was told.  Even though they had no idea that I had been raped, I felt humiliated.  Being sexually abused and rape was a huge trauma, one that I’m still recovering from.  It was painful, it was humiliating, it was terrifying.  And here someone was, making jokes about rape and rape victims; about me.  Luckily, the friend that I had told saw my discomfort and told the joker to stop, which he did.

A lot of people don’t see what the big deal is about rape jokes.  It’s all just for fun, after all, they would never actually rape someone.  But it is a big deal.  It undermines the seriousness of rape – and in a society where we often blame the woman for being raped (unless she’s a virgin that dresses like a nun), rape really doesn’t need to be undermined any further.

How do we blame the women, you ask?  If a woman was wearing revealing clothes, she was obviously asking for it.  If a woman accepted a drink from a man, she was obviously asking for it.  If a woman walked home alone at night, she was obviously asking for it.  We live in a country that is great at victim blaming, which results in 83% of women not to report their rape to the police.  And even when they do go to the police, they run the risk of not being believed, or are made to believe that it was somehow their fault.  A man (often stronger than they are) overpowers you, you fear for your life, his penis is forced inside you, yet somehow it is still your fault.  Because we all know that ‘no’ actually means ‘yes’.

(Just on a side note – to all those people that say a woman dressing provocatively was asking for it.  She may have been looking for sex, but is it still not up to her to choose WHO she has sex with?)

So, back to rape jokes.  Most people say they would never tell a rape joke to a rape victim as that would be in bad taste.  I ask you – how do you know if someone has been raped or not?  1 in 10 women have been raped or sexually abused in the UK (the actual number is probably higher, as many women do not admit to being raped).  So if you’re telling a rape joke, chances are a rape victim is within earshot.   This will probably make her (or him) feel humiliated, as it did with me.  One of the most traumatic events (if not THE most traumatic event) of her life, being openly belittled, made fun of and joked about as if it’s not a big deal, as if it didn’t almost destroy her.

There’s also another angle that most people don’t consider.  What do rape jokes say to rapists?  That really, it’s no big deal.  I know most men wouldn’t rape anyone – but not all men.  Some men would rape and have raped.  Hearing rape jokes might give them the impression that what they did really isn’t such a big deal.  It’s just fodder for jokes.  No biggie.  Sure, it’s a crime, but it’s not really a big deal – especially since my mates down the pub make fun of rape victims, so they think the same way that I do; rape isn’t a big deal.  As someone pointed out (sorry, can’t remember the actual source) ‘women are always the butt of the jokes, never the perpetrator’.  What does it say about our society that we would rather make rape victims feel uncomfortable than the rapist, that we would rather side with rapist in mocking and degrading women, than respecting women?

Some people will still have a problem with me having a problem with rape jokes.  First, ask yourselves whether you're laughing at a joke, or at the idea of rape.  Why is it so important for you to make jokes about the degradation of women?  Why is it absolutely necessary for you to mock a painful & traumatic event?  Freedom of speech?  Or the need to justify the feelings that you have deep down – that women are beneath men and deserve having a penis forced in to them?

Right at the beginning of this entry, I said how some rape jokes are okay.  I know some people may be confused about this.  An example of a rape joke that I personally think highlights society’s view of rape:

• We need more rape jokes.  We really do.  Needless to say, rape, the most heinous crime imaginable, is a comic's dream.  It's because, it seems, when you do rape jokes, that the material is so dangerous and edgy.  The truth is, it's the safest area to talk about in comedy because who's gonna complain about a rape joke?  Rape victims?  They don't even report rape. - Sarah Silverman

Some rape victims and sexual abuse survivors also make rape jokes.  To them, it can be cathartic.  I have been known to use humour when talking about my rape.  For instance, I was talking with my cousin who said he didn’t really know how to talk to me about the rape.  I laughed and said “you can just imagine this in a sitcom couldn’t you?  Two people sitting on a couch in uncomfortable silence until one of them finally, awkwardly says, “so…. You were raped…”

Admittedly, it’s not very funny, but humour can help to put people – myself included – at ease.  There can be great power in some rape jokes, as Elissa Bassist said; “Rape jokes can be empowering.  They could help you reclaim control when you’ve lost something you’ll never get back, or has been damaged beyond repair.” 

And a few example of rape which I think make fun of the seriousness of rape and/or make fun of the rape victim (I would like to ask you to picture yourself telling these jokes to a rape victim, would you still find them funny then?):

• What do nine out of ten people enjoy?  Gang rape.
• What is rape anyway, other than surprise sex?
• Ladies, look on the bright side.  Being raped burns more calories than regular sex!

To end with, I would like to share with you a quote from comedian Meghan O’Keefe, about the whole ‘Tosh rape joke incident’.  (For those that don’t know – comedian Daniel Tosh said that rape jokes are always funny, they’re hilarious etc.  A woman in the audience shouted out that ‘rape jokes are never funny’, to which Tosh replied ‘wouldn’t it be funny if you were raped by like, five guys right now?  Like right now?’  The entire audience laughed and she was humiliated.  The girl’s friend wrote about it on Tumblr and it soon went viral).  Here’s the quote: 

"If Tosh honestly thinks rape is funny... well, that's his opinion.  That's his worldview.  What's disturbing is that this is a worldview that is violent and that lacks empathy.  What's even more disturbing is that he's not some unknown comic presenting an unpopular opinion.  He's one of the most popular and beloved comic acts in the country.  Which means that a huge percentage of our country thinks rape jokes are funny, but not because they admire Jeselnik's wordplay or Silverman's irony or Mulaney's empathetic juxtaposition.  They think rape jokes are funny because they think the act of physically hurting and sexually dominating a woman against her will is funny.

And it's not.  They're not laughing at a joke.  They're laughing at the concept of rape.  Rape is disturbing and horrible.  It's one of the horrors that we should keep at bay with humour, not encourage.  Right now, the woman who posted the complain about Tosh is receiving legitimate death and rape threats from his fans.  So his "joke" didn't diffuse pain or horror - it sparked it."

Sources:

Rape statistics: http://www.mumsnet.com/campaigns/we-believe-you-campaign-rape-myths-busted

Elin Box’s article: http://www.palatinate.org.uk/?p=24278

Elissa Bassist’s article: http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2012/07/11/why-daniel-tosh-s-rape-joke-at-the-laugh-factory-wasn-t-funny.html

Megan O’Keefe’s article: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/meghan-okeefe/daniel-tosh-rape-joke_b_1665121.html

Why me?

I try to be strong. I'm trying to 'move on' with my life. I can't change what happened to me, but I can choose to not let it affect my future. I reported my abuse and rape. The CPS decided that there wasn't enough evidence to charge him with my rape. Nothing I can do about that, so I'm focussing on the fact that they have charged him with my abuse - 20 of the charges that he is facing are against me. I can't change the fact that I was raped, but I can choose to not live my life as a victim. And for the most part, I am. I am focussing on the upcoming trial, and I am focussing on healing myself.

But sometimes... sometimes I have moments where I am filled with despair and I think "why me?". I get angry. I see my friends living their lives, and I am happy for them. They are getting married, starting a family. They are going out partying. They are worrying about exams. It's the life I should be living, if none of this had happened to me. As much as I hate to admit it, I envy them, each and every one of them. I don't for a second wish anyone harm - I just wish that I could be living that life, instead of worrying about facing my rapist in court.

I should be graduated from university by now. I should have a job. I should be happy.

At the same time, I am aware that everything happens for a reason. I trust in God. And because of what happened, I have met some amazing people. Had I not been raped, I would not have met some of the people that I consider to be my close friends. My friends are amazing and bring a lot of joy in to my life, and I am so glad that they are a part of my life. In that respect I feel lucky.

That doesn't stop me from wondering what my life would have been like if I had never met him (but if somehow, my friends were still a part of my life). I wouldn't be plagued with nightmares. I wouldn't jump at a loud noise. I wouldn't flinch at an unexpected touch. I wouldn't find it so hard to trust people.

I don't often have these moments where I cry about the injustice of it all, but sometimes I can't help it. Sometimes I want to scream in anger at the hand that I've been dealt. I want to scream at him for what he's done to me. I want to scream for my lost childhood. I want to scream at a society that instead of teaching men not to rape, it teaches girls not to get raped. I just want to scream.

If I close my eyes, I can almost picture the woman that I could have been. Happy. Trusting. Full of life. A wicked sense of humour. I know that she is in there somewhere, and that slowly I am finding her. I just wish I didn't have to find her. I wish I hadn't been abused and raped, and that I didn't have to work so hard to overcome being a rape victim.

I know that there is nothing that can be done about my past. I know there is no point in saying "why me?". I know I should be looking forwards, not backwards. And for the most part I do look towards the future - the future where I have become that happy, carefree woman inside me that is fighting to get out. But sometimes, even knowing that there is no point, I can't help it, I think about the life I could have lived up until now and I want to know; why me?

I want to worry about normal things. I want to worry about exams, about relationships, about the next party. I don't want to worry about trying not to flinch when I am touched. I don't want to worry about having flashbacks. I don't want to worry about seeing my rapist.

I just want to be a normal girl living a normal life.

Instead, I am a statistic - I am one of the 20% of women that have been raped.

It is not fair, I know this. I know there is no reason. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But that doesn't stop me fantasing about the life I could be leading. It doesn't stop me from asking the question, even though I know there is no answer to it.

Why me?

It's a compliment

Yesterday I was meant to find out what my rapist has pleaded and whether we're going to trial or not. The lead up to that day was very stressful - all the worst case scenarios were running through my mind and I was getting more and more anxious by the second. I hardly slept. So, I waited the entire day for a call from the police, which never came. Eventually I found out that the date has been rescheduled - I will now find out on June 6th. Another two weeks.

Will there ever be an end? At the minute, it feels like my entire life reloves around rape, the aftermath of rape and the trial. It feels like there is no end in sight. It's exhausting. I'm exhausted.

In the meantime, I have come across a website which I really like. It's a website run by another rape survivor. The link for it can be found here. The articles range from rape-related to homophobia to politics. It's a very, very good site.

In on of her articles, she makes a point of addressing the issue of rape as a compliment. Unfortunately, in the society that we live in, a lot of people still have the opinion that rape is a compliment. I have heard the comment, when watching the news with my friends; 'why would anyone want to rape her?'. After all, only attractive women get raped, right? So if you're raped, really, you should take it as a compliment that you're just far too attractive and sexy - men can't restrain themselves around you, they HAVE to rape you.

This again links in with the view that society has that somehow the victim was asking for it. After all, rape is just sex. If someone finds you sexually attractive, that's a great confidence booster. So surely being raped should be the ultimate confidence booster? You were just THAT attractive.

Take it from me. Rape is not a compliment. Rape destroys lives.

Small people, tall people, thin people and fat people get raped. Rape is not about sex. Rape is not about passion. Rape is not about being attracted to someone. Rape is about control and dominance. Anyone can be raped and it's just the matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Some people laugh at women - and men - that become intimidated by someone else. I have heard people wondering why a certain person is so anxious, when they're obviously nothing special to look at. What rapist would chose an ugly person to rape, when he could have the pick of far more attractive women? This, again, suggests that rape is on the same level as consensual, passionate sex - yes, it's a bad thing, but it's not that bad. It's just a guy that's had too much to drink and doesn't realise that the passion isn't recipricated. Rape is just on the far end of the spectrum of consensual sex.

In reality, rape is on a completely different spectrum. Rape has nothing to do with sex. Rape is about ascerting your dominance, it is about proving that you are better and stronger than another person. Rape is about killing a part of a person. It is about destroying free will. It is about making a statement of ownership. It is about saying 'your life is in my hands, you have no control, you mean nothing. You are less than nothing'.

Rape makes a rapist feel powerful, invincible. He (or she) is in complete control of another person. He is forcing himself onto someone else. Your body is no longer yours - all that you are, your mind and your body, is at the mercy of the rapist. He can do whatever he wants with you.

Rape is painful. Rape is humiliating. Rape is torture. Rape destroys.

Rape is not a compliment.

Worn out

The police have sent me a statement that I need to sign. It's the transcript from the video interview I gave back in February. 81 pages. I have to read each page and sign it at the bottom.

It's horrible.

As I'm reading each page I can vividly remember giving the interview and all the emotions I felt at the time, and I can also vividely remember the events I'm describing.

So far I have read 53 pages. I've read myself describing my rape. I've read myself describing the abuse. Telling the police was hard enough - giving the video statement was emotionally and physically draining. It left me on edge for days afterwards. All those memories that I had tried to push to the back of my mind were suddenly swimming round and round in my head.

And now I'm reading what I said. It feels like a bandage that has been ripped off a wound far too soon.

It's difficult to read the words that I spoke, to know that I am a victim. I try to think of myself as a survivor - but those words that I spoke, written in black and white, those aren't the words of a survivor. Those are the words of a victim. It's difficult to read.

I am completely worn out. Every time I close my eyes I see the events that I described. It's as if I've travelled back in time and am experiencing them again.

If I'm like this now, what will I be like for a trial? I've only just realised how difficult the trial will be. I knew it would be hard, but after reading through my statement again, I've only just realised how completely and utterly drained it will leave me. I will be an emotional wreck. I will be exhausted.

But I'll be damned if I'm going to let that stop me. Yes, I will be a wreck. But I will be stronger for it afterwards. I've survived 5 years of abuse. I've survived being raped. I will survive reading this statement and I will survive the trial.

Around the corner

I had the meeting with the university about my request to re-take this year. I think it went well, and they should agree to it. That's a huge weight off my mind. It means I can have a fresh start - this year has been extremely difficult and it's taken all my energy to keep myself together, I had no energy left to focus on my work. And as such, my attendance and the work that I did do was abysmal. So I'm extremely relieved and greatful that I have been given the chance to re-take this year.

I have also heard from the police. The case has now gone from the Magistrate's Court to the Crown Court. The hearing that is taking place on May 22nd is to sort out the practicalities for when it goes to trial (I'm deaf and wear hearing aids, so they need to make sure that the T-loop is on etc) and to hear what he pleads.

I have been told to expect that he will plead not guilty.

So. It sounds like wWe are going to trial. He will plead not guilty.

Oh boy.

I have made the decision to go on the witness stand, but I will be behind a screen. I want to face him. But at the same time, I don't want him to be able to psych me out. I don't want to freeze up on the stand. And there is a huge possibility that I would freeze up if I saw him in person - the last time I saw him was when he raped me.

I just want this to be over so that I can move on.

The lead up to the trial, the trial itself and after the trial will be extremely difficult. I know I'm going to be emotionally drained. I'm already emotionally drained - the meeting with the university took almost all my strength. I have no idea how the trial will affect me.

But this is what I want. This is what we have all been working towards. Finally, after almost 1 1/2 years since I reported the abuse and rape, it looks like the trial is just around the corner.

And breathe...

Worry

In the next week and a half I will hear from my liason officer about what's happening with the trial, if there is a trial. Will he plead guilty to all accounts and go straight to jail, but serve a lesser sentence? Will he plead guilty to some charges and innocent to others? In which case he will still go to jail (due to the other chargers) but I will need to testify against him. Or will he plead innocent to all 40+ chargers? In which case I will need to testify, as well as other people. If that is the case, the chances of him being found innocent are next to nothing, as the evidence for some of the chargers are overwhelming. If he does choose this option, then when he is found guilty, he will serve a longer sentence.

So this is playing on my mind a lot at the moment. I know it is out of my control, I have no say in what happens. But my mind is playing through all the scenarios. Will he plead guilty? Will he plead innocent? Will I have to face him in court? Will I have to relive all those moments in front of everyone? Moments that I can barely bring myself to talk about in detail with my psychologist, friends and family, but will have to tell a room full of strangers. Not just strangers, but the defense, who will do everything s/he can to break me down and convince everyone that I'm lying.

That terrifies me. For almost all of my life, he has had a hold over me, he has abused me, he has raped me. And now, possibly, I will have to relive every single moment in a court full of strangers. I've heard some people say that going to court and being questioned and interrogated by the defense is like being raped again. And I can already see what they mean. I will have to tell them my worst memories, relive them and then argue against the defense as s/he tries to convince people that I am lying, that the abuse never happened, that my pain and suffering aren't real.

There is no best case scenario either. If he pleads guilty he gets a shorter prison sentence. If he pleads innocent I will get ripped apart and stomped on in the trial. For me, it's a lose-lose situation, as far as my mental health goes anyway. I guess it's a win-win in that either way he will go to jail, it just depends for how long.

So yes, it's on my mind a lot at the minute. I'm trying not to think about it, but how can I not?

It's leaving me completely exhausted and tense. My depression and PTSD are quite active at the minute because of it. Which means that it's difficult to study.

No matter how much I study, it's not enough. I'm working so hard, pushing myself to my limits to get this studying done. I'm using every ounce of energy and motivation I have. Which leaves me completely exhausted and depleted. And yet the studying that I can manage to do is no where near enough.

People keep telling me I need to study more, that time is running out, that the exams are looming. I know this. And I am doing my hardest. Everything I write and remember is a huge achievement for me, it is something to be celebrated. But it's not enough. I am doing as much as I physically can without causing myself to have a breakdown. I am working the hardest I can, I am working so hard that I am empty of everything else. But it's not enough.

I know I should feel angry at him for putting me in this position. I know if it wasn't for him I wouldn't have PTSD and I wouldn't be pushing myself to the absolute limits with almost no noticeable results. Yet I'm just too exhausted to feel angry. I'm too exhausted to feel much of anything. Except worry.

Worry about what news my police liason officer will bring. Worry about what my next nightmare will be about. Worry about facing him. Worry about being pushed to break down in court. Worry about not studying enough. Worry about failing my exams. Worry about having another panic attack. Worry about being a dissapointment - to myself, my friends and my family.

Me

Struggles

Sometimes I have difficulty finding words. I have all these thoughts and emotions going round and round in my head, but it becomes almost impossible to focus on one and to understand what it is that's going through my mind. Which makes it difficult to concentrate and focus on work.

All in all, I'm doing a lot better. But I'm still struggling. The struggle is getting easier with time, but it's still tough.

I feel better about him as a person - I'm not afraid of him, I know he's not a monster. He's just a man. A man that did evil things, but still a man. He can't hurt me anymore. He doesn't scare me anymore. As I mentioned in a previous entry, I'm trying to forgive him. I've taken the first step and I've prayed for him since that first time. I pray that he sees that what he did was wrong, I pray that he accepts that he needs to face justive. I also pray that he will manage to heal, that he finds God.

I'm reading a book about forgiveness at the minute. About what it means to forgive someone, to foreswear resentment. I don't wish him harm, but I want him to pay for what he did, I want justice to be done. Which, according to this book, is a good thing - forgiveness and justice aren't polar opposites of each other. What I do want to know, and which hopefully this book will help me understand, is can you forgive someone who doesn't believe they've done anything wrong?

I don't know how he feels. I don't know if he regrets what he did - not in the sense that he was caught, but that he regrets his actions because they hurt someone, or several people. I know that he denied raping me, and there wasn't enough proof to charge him with that. But does that mean he thinks he didn't do anything wrong, or he knows what he did and is too scared to face the consequences?

I've also been entertaining the idea of seeing him. I know I will either see him in court or at his sentencing. But I want to talk to him, something which I think I can put a request in for if/when he's been found guilty. He has to accept this request of course. But I want to talk to him. I don't want to ask him why, because I know why. I was a vulnerable child that just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But I do want to ask him if he regrets what he did, if he feels any remorse. Chances are that he doesn't - peadophiles don't tend to feel remorse. But I do think it will help with my closure. Maybe I will be able to finally put that to rest. Maybe I won't be able to forgive him (can you forgive someone that doesn't think they did anything wrong?), but I will have faced him. It might never happen of course.

So, I feel better about him as a person. He doesn't scare me anymore. What I still struggle with are the consequences of his actions. I still struggle with the 5 years of abuse and the rape. I still struggle with what he did to me and what he made me do. There are times when I'm not really thinking about anything, or I'm hanging out with my friends when wham, a memory will hit me.

It's the memories that I struggle with a lot. And the jumpiness. I'm easily startled and I'm quite guarded. I don't trust easily. My psychologist made a good point - I'm so busy keeping the 'bad men' away, that I don't let the good men come near me either. It's something I have to work on, something I want to work on. I struggle with depression and PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). Some days are extremely tough. I use unhealthy things as a crutch. Yes, I no longer self-harm, but I do have unhealthy crutches (like smoking). I need to learn to be able to cope with life without relying on self-destructive things. But I guess in the grand scheme of things, smoking is probably better than self-harm, drinking, sleeping around and/or drugs.

There's a lot going on at the moment, a lot of thoughts going through my mind - do I forgive him? Can I forgive him? Does he regret what he did? Will he plead guilty? Will there be a trial? Will he plead guilty? Will he accept to see me? Memories that ambush me, PTSD and depression rearing their ugly heads, relying on crutches, my trust issues etc. All of these things I struggle with daily. Which of course, makes it difficult to focus on university.

I struggle with compartmentalising my life and putting all of those things on a shelf so I can focus on my work. Which means that my attention span is limited, which means i have difficulty focusing. Which means that my work suffers. Which is frustrating. I know I could get a good degree if I didn't struggle with all of this - I'm not stupid. It frustrates me because I'm not able to give university my all. I'm not even able to give university 1/4 of my all, because most of me is fighting to get better, to beat my depression and PTSD and to recover from being an abuse and rape victim. So much energy is spent on gluing myself back together, that I have hardly no energy left for my work.

Which is extremely frustrating. And I do find myself blaming him for it - another sign that I haven't forgiven him yet. If it wasn't for him, I would likely be graduated by now, I wouldn't suffer from PTSD, my depression might not be so bad, I wouldn't have all these trust issues... the list goes on and on.

Which brings me back to forgiveness. I know I need closure, I know there's no point going 'what if' and 'if only'. I want to forgive him, I need to forgive him.

So, he as a person no longer scares me - I don't fear him. But I'm living with the consequences of what he did to me every day. It's a struggle, but I'm getting there. While some days may be tough, I do feel better all in all.

Apologies for the long, and slightly rambling, entry. I just needed to get my thoughts down.

Life

So he has been charged with over 40 offences. Some of them of those offences are for what he did to me (the childhood sexual abuse, not the rape).

Depending on what he pleads, there will most likely be a trial. He could plead not guitly to all of them, in which case there will be a trial. He could plead guilty to some and not guilty to others, in which case there will be a trial. Or he could plead guilty to all of them, in which case there won't be a trial and he would probably get a lesser sentence. He has between 2-3 months to decide.

Two or three months before I know what will happen. It is possible, even likely, that the trial would then happen in the summer. It's a long wait. It is difficult to live with all of this uncertainty. I do feel like I can't completely move on with my life, not until all of this is over, whatever the outcome may be.

However, I am moving forward with my life. It may always be at the back of my mind, but I am continuing with my life. I am at university. Soon I will have to decide what to do my dissertation on. I will have exams soon. I'm going on holiday with a friend at Easter. I have a social life. I am doing good.

This wasn't always the case - even as little as a few months ago I was locking myself away, avoiding my friends. I needed to be alone, to process what was happening. I couldn't face people - I didn't want to pretend to be alright, I didn't want to plaster on a fake smile. So I avoided most of my friends and became a recluse for a few weeks.

Luckily I have some pretty amazing friends, and they didn't stand for that. After all, a friend is someone who is there in the good times and the bad. With their help - and certain friends in particular - I managed to figure a few things out and I realised that I didn't want to be a recluse.

I like life. Yes, it is hard. Sometimes it seems impossibly difficult. Sometimes it seemed like the hits kept coming and I had no time to recover from the last hit, let alone deal with the latest one. But that's what life is. It's a rollercoaster with ups and downs. And my friends and family are on the that rollercoaster with me - there's no point trying to go through life alone. All you can do is enjoy the ups together, and comfort and be there for the downs.

But I am grateful to be alive. I am grateful to be living my life, with all of its ups and downs.

And slowly, so slowly, I am healing.

I prayed for him at church on Sunday. I wasn't planning on doing that. But while we were praying, it just seemed right to pray for him. It felt like the right time.

Afterwards, I realised that I had just taken the first step in forgiving him. I still have a long way to go. I don't forgive him for what he did, not yet. But I've taken the first step towards forgiveness. And it feels good. I feel good. I feel like I have let go of some the hatred that I have towards him, and I feel lighter, happier.

I still have a long, long way to go. But for now, life is good.

No means no

Sometimes other people's attitudes and beliefs towards rape surprise me. I know some people believe that a lot of reported rapes are for attention, or because women (or men) regret their actions the next morning. It seems a lot of people believe that if drinks are involved, then the woman is just regretting a one-night stand or doesn't remember consenting, therefore she is 'crying rape'.

Firstly - only 2% of all reported rapes are false. This means that if someone tells you they have been raped, no matter how 'unlikely' their story seems to be - it is most likely true.

Secondly. If your mothers/sisters/girlfriends were sitting in a bar and they had a few drinks, does this now mean that they are willing, that they want, to have sex with anyone that offers? Having a drink does not equal consent. Likewise being bought a drink does not equal consent. Men - have you ever bought a friend a drink, be it male or female? If yes, then did those friends expect to have sex with you? If you had refused, would it still be okay for them to force themselves on you because 'you were asking for it'?

Thirdly - if a person doesn't remember that they had sex, then that means that they were unable to consent to having sex. This means that they would have had so much to drink that they wouldn't have been aware of their surroundings and actions. They would not have been able to give consent. If they weren't able to give their consent - it is rape.

Fourthly. I have heard people say 'wearing those clothes, well she was asking for it'. It shouldn't matter what clothes someone is wearing. Rape is rape. I remember in school that someone did a sponsored streak - does this mean that whoever saw her had the right to rape her? If a woman wears a short skirt or a tight top, it does not mean that she has to sleep with every man that looks at her. No matter how revealing a woman's clothing is - she still owns her own body and has the right to choose who she sleeps with. Just because someone wears something short and/or tight does not mean that men then own her and can take what they please.

Stop thinking about how the rape victim could have prevented it. In doing so, you are blaming her (or him) for being raped. You should be blaming the rapist. The rapist is the one that forced himself on to someone else. The rapist is the one that violated someone else. The rapist is the one that broke the law. The blame lies 100% on him.

Women shouldn't have to suffer in case they are raped - they shouldn't have to worry 'if I wear these clothes will someone force his penis inside me?' or 'if I have a drink with my friends, will someone attack me?' Instead men should be thinking 'she said no, so I will not rape her'. Not 'she said no, but I bought her a drink, so she wants it really.'

Think about it - in which other crimes are the victims blamed? Oh, he stole some money so he deserves to be murdered. Oh, he's given money to charity, so it's okay to steal from him, he doesn't mind giving it away. Victims of crime are not at fault. Perpetrators of crime are to blame.

So instead of blaming the victim, blame the rapist. He is the one that did something wrong, he is the one that broke the law, he is the one that (physically or emotionally) hurt a person.

Charges

I've just heard from my police liason officer. He's not being charged for raping me. He is being charged for other things, which I can't go in to detail about just yet. But when I can, I will write it here.

But he's not being charged for raping me. There's not enough evidence. To say I'm dissapointed is an understatement. I feel pretty deflated. Everything I went through, everything he put me through, and he's not being charged for it. I wanted my day in court - I wanted to face him, to show him that he hasn't beaten me, that I'm a survivor and that I'm strong. I wanted to stand up to him, I wanted to look at him and show him that he doesn't scare me.

That's been taken away from me. And I feel empty right now.

But, like I said, he is being charged with other things. I can't go into detail, but I will keep you updated.

I will, however, say that despite not being charged for raping me, overall it's a cause for celebration. Even though right now I don't feel like celebrating - a good thing has happened and my faith in the justice system has been restored.