Planning

I still can't believe it.  He's been found guilty.  I had convinced myself that they would find him not guilty, that I wouldn't be believed.  I know that my case is a minority - so many rapists aren't even taken to court, and few of those that are are found guilty.  Then again, mine wasn't a rape case, it was a child abuse case.

He will never be convicted of raping me.  The CPS said it was a he said/she said case with no evidence so there was no point.  It's not the fault of the police.  It's the system.  But... I'm okay with that.  He has been found guilty.  So many sexual assault survivors do not even get that.  So I am extremely thankful.

And happy.  I am so, so SO happy.  It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.  He is no longer out on the street (or behind a computer).  His bail has been revoked.  He is in jail.  He will NEVER hurt another child like he hurt me.  Never again.

I hardly slept last night - I think it was those strawberry daiquiris I had.  My stomach does not like alcohol.  And I had a fair few daiquiris last night in celebration.  So I'm pretty tired today.  But guess what?  HE'S BEEN FOUND GUILTY.  I'm on cloud nine.  I feel like I've won the lottery.  I feel like I can climb Kilimanjaro.  I feel happy.

It's not over yet though.  Not by a long shot.  Yes, the trial is over.  That part of my life is done.  His sentencing is on January 4th, and I need to prepare an impact statement for that, and I will see him in court when I read it out.

But that's not what I'm referring to.  Yes, the trial is over.  But I'm still living with the effects of the abuse and rape.  Just because he has been found guilty doesn't mean that I'm magically cured of my PTSD & depression.  It doesn't mean that I'm suddenly not anxious anymore.  It doesn't mean that I will stop having nightmares, or flashbacks or panic attacks.

I still have a long road of recovery ahead of me.  But it's made a hell of a lot easier by the fact that HE HAS BEEN FOUND GUILTY.

I don't think I'll ever get tired of saying that.

Guilty motherfucker!  Yes!!!!

So yeh, I'm still living with the aftereffects of what happened, and it will take a lot of work for me to actually be healed.  But I'm getting there.  As my Mum pointed out, for all of these years I have been living in a prison that he made for me, while he got to live his life.  Now I get to live my life while he's in prison.

And that feels good.  So, so good.

So yes, I am moving on with my life.  It will take some time, but I've got all the time in the world.  I have no weight bearing down on me anymore.  I have nothing stopping me from moving forward and fixing myself and getting my life back on track.  And that feels amazing.

So, what are my life changing plans?  Well, I will continue seeing my psychologist so she can help me fix myself.  I have a lot of issues to work through - my depression, my PTSD, my anxiety, my trust issues etc.  But that's not all.  I'm quitting smoking.

I've always said that after the trial I will quit.  Well, the trial has finished.  So I guess I better quit.  I went to the doctor's to talk about the support that's available to quit, and I'm going back next week for a proper appointment, to talk about what would be best for me (patches, gum, fake cigarette, cold turkey etc).  One person pointed out that on the 4th January I will actually see him in person for the first time since he raped me, and don't I want to be able to smoke then?

Yes, I probably will want to smoke.  Yes, it's going to be an extremely stressful situation.  I'm pretty sure it's going to be horrible.  But there will always be stressful situations.  So, the sentencing is in exactly 5 weeks.  That means that I will have been a non-smoker for 4 weeks (I've tried quitting before, and it's never worked, so this time I'm going to do it the right way, with help - like I said, going to the doctor's next week, so next week I will quit).  I will want to smoke, but I don't want to be a smoker my whole life.

So.  I'm quitting smoking.  I'm also going to start taking up hobbies again.  I had so many hobbies as a child, before all of this happened.  I enjoyed doing things.  But over the past years, I've not done anything.  I've been too damaged and scared to enjoy myself.  Well, no more!

My parents got me horse-riding lessons as a birthday present, and I fully intend to use them!  I used to love riding horses as a child.  I used to enter competitions, and was a pretty good rider.  But I haven't ridden since I was about 12.  I used to love it.  So I'm going to start again.

There's also a few things that I don't particularly want to do, but I know I should do.  Such as lessons in statistics.  I hate statistics.  I'm crap at it.  That's probably because I never really paid much attention to it, as just getting up, showered and dressed to go to the lessons was difficult enough.  So, before I start university again in October, I'm going to take statistics lessons.  Statistics is a pretty big part of a psychology degree, so it will be good to actually be able to understand it!

Let's see... what else have I been putting off?  Getting my first aid certificate.  I used to be a qualified first aider.  But I let that slide.  I want it back.  And I want to go back to work for the Samaritans - I've been on a leave of absence this past year while I've been dealing with everything.

Now, I'm not going to go crazy and overwhelm myself by taking on too much.  For years I have done nothing because just getting out of bed was a struggle.  So I don't want to take on too much, too fast.  The first step is to quit smoking.  Then in the new year I will start horse-riding again, and about a month or so after I've started riding again, I will go back to the Samaritans (want to wait until the sentencing is over and I'm back in the right mind frame).  I have looked at the First Aid courses available, and I am putting my name down for one in March. And around Easter time I will look in to statistics classes.

So.  That's my plan.  December - quit smoking.  January - go to the sentencing, then start riding again.  February - go back to volunteering for the Samaritans.  March - First Aid training.  April/May - statistics lessons.  Not forgetting my BSL classes either, which are every Thursday and some Saturdays.  I know that to most people that doesn't seem like much at all.  But to me, all of this is huge.  It's a lot.  I'm going from barely getting out of bed to actually having a life, and enjoying that life.  It will be tough, I still have the PTSD and depression and all the other stuff to deal with.  But dammit, it's my life and I'm gonna live it and enjoy it!

I've just realised that this is a rather long entry, and I'm not really saying much in it.   I guess what I wanted to say was this: HE HAS BEEN FOUND GUILTY.  I'm on the [long] road to recovery.  I am starting to live my life.  And I feel GREAT.

The diary

2:40pm – Today could not have gone any better!!!  Well, I suppose if he had decided to plead guilty there and then, that would have been better.  But seriously, it’s fantastic today!

As you know, last night a friend of ours searched our house and find the diary.  I wasn't able to tell my parents why I needed the diary, just that it was important.  Then when the friends rang and told us they had found the diary... fantastic!

Then the question was – how are we going to get it to London overnight?  First we tried to find somewhere that would post it overnight.  Far too expensive.  A friend of the family friends said he would drive down for cash.  My parents said yes.  Again, I couldn't tell them why I needed the diary, just that it was of the utmost importance.

At 1am in the morning, the guy arrives at our hotel and gives my Dad the diary, who gives it to me.  I read it.  All the entries are dated, making it obvious that I was about 14 when I wrote in it.  There are only a few entries, and some pages are missing as the diary is falling apart.

But – I mention him!!  This proves that his defense is a lie.  It proves that we knew each other when I was 14.  It proves that I was telling the truth, and he was lying.

So, I tell the kick-ass police detective and handed it over today at the court.  We all sat waiting around in the witness lounge.  At about midday we’re told that the trial has been adjourned for the day, as his lawyer and he have a lot to discuss, and they need to figure out where to go from here.  This means that the diary has been allowed in as evidence, despite it being handed in at such short notice.

But it’s made a HUGE hole in his defense.  It proves he was lying.

So now, him and his lawyer need to talk about what to do next.  Who knows – he might even plead guilty!  That’s the best possible outcome.  The worst outcome is that it’s accepted as evidence (which I've been told it has been) and I’m questioned about it.  But there’s not much the defense can really say – it’s written in black and white.

So, for today, there’s nothing more I can do.  I’m still under oath so I’m not allowed to talk about it with anyone – which is SO frustrating.  I’m desperate to talk about it, to talk about what I went through in court, why the diary is so important etc.  But I can’t yet.

We’ll see what happens tomorrow.  But right now, I feel like a million dollars.  I feel like I could run a marathon.  I feel like I’m on top of the world.  I feel – wait for it – happy!  This is amazing.

4:15pm – Sometimes  I hate my brain.  I always think of the worst possible thing that could happen.  I try to be an optimistic person, and for the most part I am.  But sometimes it’s difficult.  Like now.  I’m thinking ‘what if his lawyer tries to ask for a mistrial, because the evidence came too late?  What if the judge accepts and then I have to go through all this again, and he changes his story so that the diary doesn't matter?’

I don’t know how the legal system works, so I don’t know if that’s plausible or not.  And I can’t ask anyone, because I’m not allowed to talk about it.

I hate not being allowed to talk about it.  These laws are there to protect him, not me.  I’m not allowed to mention the rape, even if I didn't use the word rape and said ‘at 17 we had sex, and he said it was consensual’, or something like that.  Because that would also prove that he’s lying (as the police told me it was a case of he said/she said and because it happened so long ago, there’s no evidence to support me.  So he must have made a statement saying we had sex, but it was consensual).  But that statement isn't allowed to be shown, even though it would prove he’s a liar.

His defense is basically; we talked online for up to 9 months when I was 16.  We never met.  It was purely platonic.  Well, my diary shows that we talked AT LEAST from the age of 14.  That statement would show that it was not platonic and that we did meet.  It would prove that he’s a liar.

But because of the law, he is protected, and I’m the one put on the stand and accused of being a liar and a money-grabber.

Oh yeh – I was also pretty much accused of being a child-slut.  That I was talking to lots of different people (men) online and met up with them so it’s impossible to remember which one actually hurt me.  I mean, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!  I was fucking TWELVE years old.  He was the only one I talked!  And I think I would remember who fucking sexually abused and raped me!

Urgh.   The sooner this is over with, the better.

5:10pm – I've just had a text from my liaison officer.  She says the diary has definitely been accepted as evidence.  YES!!!  And I have to be at court for 10am tomorrow, which means I get a bit of a lie in.  She hasn't said anything else, so I guess that means he’s not pleading guilty and will somehow try and explain away the diary.  So I need to prepare myself.  I think it will be another difficult day tomorrow.

But, I’m trying not to think about it.  One day at a time.  Today was a good day.  Today I proved he was lying.  Today I shook him up.  Today was a victory for me.  I’m going to try and reclaim the happy feelings I had a few hours ago, and deal with tomorrow, tomorrow.

9:10pm – All I keep thinking is “it’s almost over.  It’s almost over”.  Tomorrow should be the last day that I’m needed in court.  The trial won’t be over, but my part in it will be.  I just need to get tomorrow over and done with. 

Oh please let it be finished tomorrow.  I don’t want to stay another night in London.  I want to go home.  I want to get as far away from London as I possibly can.

Tomorrow will be horrible.  I know this.  I know that the defense has to up her game since I handed in my diary.  I don’t know what she’s going to do or say, but I know it will be awful.  I know it will be worse than the first time, as now there is proof that her client lied.  So she needs to push and push and push at me until I break, she will pour over every detail to try and trip me up.  I know she will.  But I will not break, I will not let her trip me up.  I will be honest.  I don’t remember every single detail.  It happened 12 years ago.  How am I supposed to remember all the details?

She will try and goad me in to arguing with her.  She will do everything in her power to try and discredit me.  I don’t know what she’s going to say.  But I know it’s going to be awful.

I will survive.

But I am dreading it.

11:40pm – I can’t sleep.  I’m so tired.  I can barely keep my eyes open.  But when I close them – nothing happens.  I lie there, not being able to sleep.  I toss and turn.  I can’t get comfortable.  And all that’s running through my head is tomorrow – what will happen? 

I was elated this afternoon.  I thought, right, this is it, he can’t possibly get out of this one. 

Now I’m not so sure.  He’s a weasel.  He’s slippery.  He can get out of this.  He’s got a really good lawyer (or barrister, whatever the term is) fighting in his corner.  My lawyer is awesome.  She’s fantastic – I couldn't ask for a better one.  But his is pretty damn good as well.  I just know she’s going to somehow twist my words.

And I know I shouldn't be thinking this.  But I keep thinking ‘why me?’  Why did this have to happen to me?  Why do I have to be going through this?  No one ever said life was fair, and aint that the truth.  If it was fair, then I never would have met him, I never would have been sexually abused, I never would have been raped, I wouldn't be suffering from PTSD, I would have finished university, I would be on my way to becoming a neuro-psychologist and my best friend would still be alive.

But life isn't fair.  So instead I’m in court, facing my rapist and I’m not allowed to mention that he raped me.  

And my best friend isn't here.

This afternoon I felt like a million dollars.  Now, I feel nothing but dread and fear and [emotional] pain.  I just know that his lawyer will have some trick up her sleeve to make me out to be a liar.

And I’m scared.  Because life isn't fair.  Life has never been fair up to now, so why would it be fair in giving me a good outcome in this trial?

I know that’s wrong.  I know I shouldn't be thinking like that.  I know that whatever happens, I can only do my best and it’s all God’s plan.  But I’m not perfect, I can’t pretend to understand God’s plan, and right now, I feel hopeless.

Life has never been fair to me up until now, so why would it suddenly change and things go my way?  And yes, I realise I’m having a self-pitying moment.  I don’t often have them, so I think I’m allowed to indulge in one right now. 

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?

Take Two

I've been thinking about something for a while. At first I dismissed it, thought it would be seen as a failure, as giving up. But recently I've been giving it a lot of thought, and have decided to do it.

I'm not going to be taking my exams this summer. Instead, I'm going to re-take the year. It's not ideal. I don't want to do it. I want to finish university and get on with my life. But this year has been a pretty bad year. I've struggled a lot with my depression and PTSD. My sleeping has been all over the place. When I do sleep, I'm usually plagued by nightmares. I've struggled with anxiety and have had panic attacks. My mind just has not been on my work.

If I took the exams this year, I would maybe scrape a pass. I don't want to scrape a pass. I know I am capable of much more than that. I have my heart set on the career that I want to go in to once I finish university. To go in to that career I need more than just a degree, I need a good degree. If I were to continue, I wouldn't be able to do what I want to do with my life. I don't want that. I don't want what he did to me to affect the rest of my life. I refuse to let that happen.

So, I don't see re-sitting my second year as a failure. Failure would be not being able to do the job that I want to do, because of him. Because I was too stubborn to admit that what he did to me has had a lasting effect. Instead, I'm putting my hands up and admitting it. This year has been difficult and I haven't been able to focus on university.

The process won't be easy though - the university has to approve my request. They need letters from my doctors and psychologist proving that I've hardly taken anything in. They rarely let people re-take a year, as they believe it's not fair on the other students that are taking the year for the first time. I can see their point. However, I'm still going to fight for it. I just need to prove that I wasn't capable of work this year and that I wasn't able to go to many lectures or take in all the information on the course.

So, right now I'm busy getting in touch with my doctors and psychologist, asking them to provide evidence that will hopefully persuade the university to allow me to re-sit. I have a meeting in two weeks with the powers that be to discuss everything, and then I will know.

I have also, finally, heard back from my police liason officer. My abuser will be going to the Police Case Management Hearing on the 22nd of May to put in his plea. Once that has been done, the trial (if there is a trial - which is looking more and more likely) will take place soon after that. My liason officer said I have three options as to give evidence. I can either; a) have the video statement played in court. b) Give live evidence via a video link, where I will be in a small room outside the court and would appear on a TV in the courtroom. Or c) go in to court and give evidence from the witness box, in which case I could have a screen put up so that he wouldn't be able to see me while I give evidence.

He said the decision is completely up to me. I think I will go for the last option. It's the more difficult option, but it's also the best option for the prosecution. Juries like to see the victims. And I think in the long run it will help me to heal. I'll give it some more thought, but I'm pretty sure that's what I will do.

In the meantime, while I'm deciding this, I have been asked to gather my school records and medical records. I guess to for the prosecution to show that a) I mentioned what happened to me to the school counsellor at the time (so therefore it is unlikely that I made it up, as the defense will claim) and b) to show the long-lasting impact the abuse has had on me. Again, proving that I didn't make it up.

After months of silence, it seems like things are finally progressing. My liason officer warned me that now things will happen very fast. Oh boy.

I'm dreading it, but it's something that I want to do. It's something I need to do.

I'm looking forward to when this is all over though, and I can get back to my life.

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.

Affecting others

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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