Moving on

I can't believe that it has been about a year and a half since the guilty verdict and the sentencing.  I don't know why I haven't written or posted anything on here.  Probably because before I was so focused on getting through the trial whereas now I am focused on healing myself and building myself back up.

After the trial, I was still in a pretty bad place.  Even though I got some closure, I was still suffering from nightmares, flashbacks and all the fun stuff that comes with that.  I think it's pretty fair to say that I was a broken person.  I didn't think I would ever heal.  I didn't know what else to do.  I had faced my demons, but felt like I would never actually heal.  But... a year and a half is a long time.

A lot has happened in that year.  I have grown into a more confident woman.  I respect myself.  I love myself.  I have realised that life is good.

So, what's been happening in my life?



A Weighty Issue

After I was raped, I started to put on more and more weight.  At the time I hated it, but couldn't seem to stop it from happening.  I didn't want to stop it from happening.  Looking back, it's obvious what I was doing.  I was trying to make myself unattractive - in my mind, I was raped because I was attractive.  Of course, now I know that that is absolute rubbish - short, tall, thin and fat women are raped.  It's not about attractiveness, it's about exerting your power over someone else.  But in my damaged mind, the more weight I piled on, the safer I was.

That's how I found myself grossly overweight.  I hated it, but I didn't want to lose weight and become vulnerable.  In my mind, my fat was my protection.

Which is why, when I finally started putting myself back together and regain my confidence, I was finally able to lose the weight.  I'm now 4 stone lighter and much more happy and confident within myself.  Not to mention a lot healthier!


A New Diagnosis

Last year I was diagnosed with Type 3 Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, which is a hereditary disorder that affects my joints. In its simplest, my body does not produce enough collagen (the 'glue' that keeps joints together) causing frequent dislocations and sublaxations (partial dislocations).  There are also a bunch of other symptoms, such as chronic pain (which can be extremely debilitating), joint hypermobility, poor healing, brain fog (due to lack of oxygen to the brain), muscle sprains and many others.  Walking can at times be quite difficult.  As of yet there is no cure or treatment other than medicine for the pain - which often doesn't work.
It was a relief to finally get the diagnosis, as I'd been complaining to my doctors' for years.  I'm extremely relieved to finally know what is wrong with me as, for a long time, I was told that it was all in my head.

I won't lie though: it is extremely frustrating, and I have often found myself angry.  For so long I wasn't able to enjoy life and focus on university because my head was in the wrong place - I was a shell of a person and not capable of really doing anything.  Now my head is finally in the right place, but my body is failing me.  I'm 26 but have found myself at times to be virtually housebound.  It is extremely frustrating.

However, I have terrific friends that snap me out of my self-pitying mode and remind me to enjoy the good times in life.  When I can go out, I do.  When I can't go out, my friends come to me.  Unfortunately I have lost some friends who couldn't understand why I often cancelled at the last minute (not easy to socialise when the pain is so overwhelming you literally can not move), but my close friends have been nothing but understanding.


University

I've restarted university and am currently in my second year - again!  I'm determined to finish my degree this time.  I'm enjoying it immensely.  However, EDS does not make it easy.  I've missed a lot of lectures due to dislocations, pain and fatigue.  (It's unclear yet what's causing the fatigue, but the doctors are trying to figure it out).

I am extremely determined to pass this year, but it does sometimes feel like the world is against me (that's when my good friends knock some sense into me and tell me to get on with it already!).  The university have also been extremely supportive and are allowing me to spread my exams out.  I know that with hard work and determination I will get there in the end.


Family & Friends

My family and friends have been amazing throughout these past few years.  They have been patient and kind.  They have let me rant, they have let me cry.  They have given me a hug - or a push, depending on which one I needed!

Slowly, I am being helped to knock down the wall I had built around myself and to take off my mask.  I now find myself actually smiling and laughing - not putting on a mask, but actually smiling and laughing.


Me

It's been a long and hard road, and I'm not all the way there yet.  I still have a lot to unlearn.  As a child, I learnt to put on a mask - to smile and pretend that everything was fine.  I learnt to be quiet and keep my opinion to myself.  I learnt to blend in.  I learnt to try and keep the attention away from me.  Putting on a mask and keeping people at a distance became a natural part of my everyday life, as did fearing men.

I still find it difficult to be around and to trust men.  I still have tendencies to keep men at a safe distance.  Because of this, I also have difficulties in forming close friendships with men.  Aside from family, I never formed a close bond with a male that wasn't sexual.  To me, men were synonymous with sex, because that was what I was taught.  It's not surprising really; becoming sexual at age 12 with  a man in his 30s is bound to mess up my view on healthy friendships between men and women.  Alongside learning how to be good friends with men, I'm also starting to get myself out there and start dating.

I'm also learning to take off my mask and knock down my wall.  It's not easy though, in fact, it's extremely scary.  They have both been in place for so long, I can't remember being without them.  I learnt to hide myself - my body was fair game, but my mind was untouchable.  The thought of being without my mask & wall is frightening, but I know it's the right thing to do.  Yes, it is terrifying, but it is also freeing.  And why should I put on a mask and hide away?  I have nothing to be ashamed of, and I no longer need to protect myself like that.  In fact, keeping the wall and mask is no longer helpful, it's actually damaging me and my relationships with other people.

Another thing I've been working on is not being such a people-pleaser.  I'm a pretty laid back person and am generally pretty happy to go with the flow.  But I became a doormat.  Again, I was taught to do what I was told and to keep him happy.  That translated into every part of my life.
Any question that I was asked (be it "what movie do you want to watch?" or "where do you want to eat?" or "what song do you want to listen to"), I would always respond with; "I don't mind, you choose".
I didn't want to rock the boat.  I didn't want to disappoint anyone if I made a choice that they didn't like.  I still have difficulty with this, but I'm learning.  After all - why is my happiness and wishes worth less than that of others?
I'm learning to actually speak up for myself and to ask people to meet me half way, instead of me bending over backwards for other people and being taken for a mug.

So yes, I still have a long way to go.  But I am definitely on the right track.

For so long I felt sad and angry because I felt like I missed out on having an innocent childhood.  I wondered what I would be like if I hadn't been sexually abused, if I hadn't been raped, if, if, if...  Then I realised something.  Looking back was not helping me.  Instead of focusing on the past, I should be focusing on the future.

Yes, what happened to me was pretty awful and will probably always stay with me.  But there is no turning back time, no changing the past.  Instead, I am learning to look to the future and focus on who I want to become now, instead of who I was back then.  And I have to say - I am liking the woman that I am turning into.

It is important to not let your past define who you are.  Of course you will always be affected by it.  But your past does not define you.  Your past is your past, but your future?  That is all yours and it is up to you to decide what you want to do with it and who you want to become.  Because you know what?  Life can be pretty damned amazing if you actually let yourself feel and live it.

"Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards" - S Kierkegaard. 

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.

2 weeks

In exactly two weeks the trial will start.  I'm getting more and more nervous.  I'm worried about the defense lawyer interrogating me.  I'm worried the jury won't believe me and he'll get off.  I'm just worried.

I'm also angry.  There wasn't enough evidence to charge him with my rape, instead he's being charged for sexual abuse spanning 5 years.  It should be him that's worried about the trial, not me.  As a rape victim, my past will be put on trial, not his.  And I find that unbelievable.  It frustrates and angers me.  And it terrifies me.  What will the defense say?  That at at 12 years old I wanted it?  From what I've heard, this is exactly what the defense says.  And a lot of the time the jury believes them.

So yes, I'm terrified.  I'm also ill at the moment.  It is the worst possible time to be ill.  I need to have all my wits about me for the trial, I can't afford to be ill at the trial.  So off to the doctor's I go.  Let's hope that I'm better in a few weeks.

The trial is constantly on my mind.  Which means that what he did to me is constantly on my mind.  It's making me tired, scared and drained.  But I've found something else to take my mind off it.  I'm hosting a murder mystery part on the Saturday after the trial for my birthday.  I'm throwing myself in to organising it, as it helps to take my mind off it.  It also gives me something to look forward to.  I'm dreading the trial, but I'm looking forward to my party.

And I know that no matter what happens at the trial, no matter what the results are (which I should find out on the Friday), I'm going to have a great party and have fun.  I'm going to move on with my life, and I'm going to enjoy my life.

He took my innocence and my childhood.  I'll be damned if he's taking the rest of my life as well.

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

Sometimes

I have good days and bad days. A lot of the time, the reason why I'm having a bad day is because of him and what he did to me. I find myself lost in memories, overcome by anger etc. However, sometimes; a bad day is just a bad day. Not everything in my life is linked to him. Sometimes I can't sleep and I have no idea why. Sometimes I'm in a bad mood and it has nothing whatsoever to do with him.

My parents are just discovering this. Lately, a lot of times when I have been feeling down it has been because of him. My parents know that. They see my pain and it hurts them. So when I was in a bad mood the other day, they asked me why, they asked me to talk to them. I told them I didn't know why, that I was just in a bad mood, that I was tired etc. They, of course, didn't believe me. They sat me down for a chat and told me I could tell them anything. I told them that I know (I lucked out with my parents, they're pretty awesome), but that I was just tired and there was nothing more to it than that.

Which of course, they didn't believe.

Sometimes, a bad mood (or a bad day, or being tired), is just a bad mood.

Now, moving on. I've started smoking again. I had quit for over 3 months. Then I started again a few weeks ago. I was feeling down and stressed (and this time it was because of him), and I went out and bought a packet of cigarettes. It felt so good.

I don't want to be a smoker all my life. But at the minute there is so much uncertainty in my life - will this or won't this go to trial, will he get away with what he did, will he stop haunting my dreams etc. Smoking is a coping mechanism. Probably not a great coping mechanism, but it's better than self-harming, or making myself sick, or starving myself. All of which I used to do. It seemed like the lesser of the evils.

Me

A vicious circle

People think that the most common reaction to rape is to shy away from human contact. Or rather, that is the reaction that society expects - any other reaction and coping strategy is frowned upon. How did I react? I craved love; I needed to feel wanted. However, because I was groomed from an early age (an age where most kids are just starting to discover what love is) my view on love was (and is) completely different to most people's.

When I was 12 until 17, he was my best friend. He was the person I told everything to. He made me need him – I couldn't imagine not having him to confide in. I know that a lot of people struggle with the idea of grooming and can't quite get their heads around it. It's very similar to Stockholm Syndrome (where you bond with your captor in order to survive). In the beginning, there was nothing sexual about it; he was there when I needed someone to talk to. Whatever drama was going on in my 12-year-old life, he was there for me. Slowly, he started to worm his way into every aspect of my life, making me think that without him I would crumble. Eventually, he would be asking me for 'favours' in return for 'supporting me'. So from an early age, anything sexual was intertwined with being friends and having someone to listen to.

I grew up thinking that if you wanted to bond with someone, that if you wanted someone to be there for you, listen to you and be a shoulder to cry on, then you should give them something physical in return. I thought that was the way things worked. Sex, close friendship and love were so completely tangled up with each other they all seemed like one thing. I didn't think you could have one without the other.

Then he raped me. For a long time afterwards, yes, I did withdraw in to myself. I didn't want to get close to anyone for fear of what might happen, for fear of getting hurt, both physically and emotionally.

I don't know when or why I started to change, but I did. Part of me wanted to take back what he had stolen from me. I wanted to say "see, I’m moving on from being raped, you don't affect me anymore". I wanted to prove to him that I had control of my body, that I could choose to be with someone. However, an even bigger part of me just wanted to be close to someone again. I suppose I was lonely and wanted to reach out to people - I wanted a normal, healthy relationship, yet I had no idea how to get close to someone and have a relationship without being physical.

It soon became very clear that even though I wanted more – that wasn't what most people wanted. In their eyes it was "wham, bam, thank you ma'am". This of course just meant that I ended up feeling even worse than I did before – I felt used, I felt like a faceless one night stand, I felt empty. It was a horrible, horrible feeling. I truly felt alone and unloved. So, needing to feel loved, I would again seek out someone to be close to, which in turn made me feel much, much worse than before. It was a vicious circle that I couldn't seem to get out of.

In all honestly, I still haven't managed to completely untangle those three things. I still have moments where I stumble – if I'm feeling low then of course I look for something – someone – that will make me feel better, that will make me feel wanted. Or if I start to develop feelings for someone, or I think that someone is interested in me, then I always seem to manage to chase that person away by 'giving it up' too soon. Again, I always end up feeling much, much worse afterwards.

All of this is something I'm working on though. After all, how can I expect someone to respect me and want to be with me, when my actions say that I don't respect myself? Yes, it's going to take a long time to completely untangle these three things, but bit by bit, I’m getting there.

Me