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?

Facing him

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a pathetic, horrible little man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whatever.

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

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

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

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

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

13 years and two months!!

Short entry

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

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

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

More waiting

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

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

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

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

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

So we drove back up North.  Exhausted.

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

Sentencing Tomorrow

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

The first day

9.40am - I hardly got any sleep last night.  I also threw up in the early hours of the morning.  Think it’s my nerves getting to me.  I’m absolutely dreading today.  I can’t believe it’s happening, that today is the first day of the trial, and I’m testifying.

It doesn't seem real.  After all this time, it’s finally happening.  And I’m terrified.  What if the jury hates me?  What if they don’t believe me?  What will the defense ask?

I know that the defense is just doing her job, that I shouldn't take anything personal.  But I also know that it will be personal – she is going to try and get the jury to not believe me.  She is going to make out that as a 12 year old I came on to a 33 year old man.  She will do anything in her power to make me look bad.  And I’m terrified.

Part of me wonders how she can represent him.  But the other part of me knows that that isn't fair.  She is only doing her job.  But in my eyes, she is protecting the man that ruined my childhood.  She is protecting the man that abused me for years.  She is protecting my abuser by making it look like it was my fault.  I know it’s her job and I’m not being fair on her.  But still… that doesn't make it any easier for me.

I just need to remember that I’m not alone.  I have my family, I have my friends, I have the prosecution.  I have a lot of support.  I am not facing this alone. 

Except, in court, I will be alone and she will do everything in her power to break me.  And I’m absolutely terrified.

11am – I've arrived at the court house.  After being searched to make sure that I have no weapons on me, I was directed to the witness area.  I’m currently sitting in the lounge.  It’s quite a nice room really.  It was obviously designed with the help of a psychologist – the walls are a very pale, calm yellow and the pictures that are dotted around the room are of serene scenery.  It’s all designed for a calming effect.

I feel anything but calm right now.

I've bought a book with me, but I’m reading the same passage over and over again, with nothing going in.  My stomach is in knots.  I couldn't eat this morning.  I feel sick.

There’s a TV in this room with some DVDs.  I might try and watch something – again, all the DVDs are either comedies or chick-flicks, which I suppose is to calm you down.  No point watching an action movie and getting the adrenalin running – think I might overdose on adrenalin that way!

11:50am – I've met my lawyer, or rather, barrister, E.  She seems really nice.  Obviously we couldn't go in to detail and she couldn't tell me what she was going to ask me in court etc., but she just said that it’s okay to be nervous.  We talked a bit about my hearing and she asked if there was anything that needed to be done.  I told her the T-loop in court needed to be switched on and that when either she or the defense are asking me questions they need to face me so that I can lip-read.

She seems nice and good at her job.

I've been given my statement to read over.  It’s awful.  They suggested that I read it about four times.  It’s not nice.  Just reading over and over again what I said at my interview.  It makes me feel like a victim.  They are the words of a victim, of a scared child.  It’s pretty difficult to read.

12:30pm – time is moving so slow.  I've been told that I’ll probably give my testimony at about 2pm.  Another hour and a half to wait, possibly longer, possibly shorter.   It’s the waiting that is awful.  I’m here now, I’m ready to testify, I want it out of the way.   The waiting is horrible.  I’m getting more and more anxious as time progresses.

I went outside for a smoke before.  I’m not allowed to go out alone (I guess they’re afraid of witness tampering or something).  If it was up to me, I’d be chain smoking this entire time.  I want to sit outside on the steps with the breeze in my hair, listening to the birds and smoking a cigarette.  Unfortunately, I can’t do that, unless someone is with me.  Which sucks.  There should be a smoking room or area for witnesses to go.

God, I hate this waiting.

1:10pm – I've just had some lunch.  I wasn't hungry, but I forced myself to eat.  I don’t want my stomach rumbling when I’m on the stand.  Had to find someone to come outside with me while I had another smoke.

The court has broken up for lunch.  The opening statements have been made (I assume).  In 50 minutes the court will start again and I will be called in.  I don’t think I've ever been so scared.  Well, I have.  Let me rephrase that.  Since the rape (which I’m not allowed to mention in court), I haven’t been this scared and nervous.  I am petrified, and extremely glad I chose to have a curtain around me while I’m questioned.  I’m in a right state right now, and the last thing I want is to see him and for him to see me like this.

1:40pm – Not long to go now.  Oh man.  Oh man.  Oh man.  I’m so nervous.  I’m going to ask if I can go in to the chapel about 5 minutes before I need to be in court.  I know there is nothing I can do but put my trust in God.  I think spending some time in the chapel will help to calm me, to center myself.

2:40pm – Turns out the jury hasn't been sworn in yet, all this time it’s been the two lawyers having verbal arguments to decide which evidence is allowed in and which isn't.  Some questions were raised, and I've had to give another statement to clarify some things.  He used to send me links to porn sites, most of them featured kids.  Bear in mind that that alone is classed as child abuse – directing a child of 12/13/14 to porn sites.  The thing they needed to clarify was which of these adult sites he directed me to, and which of them were visited by my parents…  So yes, that was a bit awkward!

Then I was told that the lawyers need to finish their argument, and then the jury will be sworn in and the opening statements will be given and only then will I be called to the stand.  I've been told that the chances of me being called today are very slim, and that I will probably be called tomorrow instead.

This waiting is absolutely exhausting.  I’m tired.  I’m fed up.  I want this to be over.

I’m annoyed as well.  Not at any particular person – I know it’s no one’s fault.  But I've been sitting here all day, getting more and more anxious, worried about being cross-examined etc., and it turns out I probably won’t even testify today.  It’s so frustrating.

I tell you, the judicial system is absolutely crazy.

4:30pm – I’m now back in my hotel room.  I didn't end up testifying today, that will happen tomorrow.  I just want it to be over.  I’m tired.  I want to go home to my bed.  I want to sleep for a week.  This morning I woke up terrified.  Throughout the day I was getting more and more anxious.  Now I’m ready.  I want it over.

7:10pm – Even though I didn't testify today, I’m exhausted.  Completely worn out, I can barely think.  Today has shaken me more than I realised.  I started panicking while I was outside smoking, wondering if he is nearby.  We were in the same building today.  The same building.  That’s a pretty scary realisation.  The man that abused me, ruined my childhood, was in the same building as me.  So right now, even though I know the chances of him being in this hotel are virtually nothing, I’m still freaked out.  I’m seeing him everywhere I go.  My mind playing tricks on me.  I’m constantly on edge.

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.

His plea

Normally, writing in here helps to keep me calm. It gives me the opportunity to sort through my thoughts and speak my mind. However, since I found out what my rapist is pleading, I've been feeling extremely deflated and haven't had the energy to write in here.

I found out on Wednesday that he has pleaded 'not guilty' to all accounts - including those charges where the evidence is rock solid. I honestly didn't expect him to plead not guilty to all 43 charges. So, we're definitely going to trial. A trial date has also been set, and arrangements have been made for me to visit the courthouse and the courtroom before the trial starts.

So, how do I feel about this? Shocked. Angry. Tired. Empty. I had always thought that he would plead guilty to the charges where the evidence is overwhelming, and not guilty to my charges. Now there is a chance - a tiny chance, but a chance nonetheless - that he could be found not guilty on all charges, and he could walk. In which case, this has all been for nothing.

Except, I must remember, it hasn't been for nothing. The people in his life have been made aware of the kind of person he is. He is now on the police radar. And I will face him - no longer is he a monster I my nightmares, but a man. A man that no longer has any control over me.

I will be honest - I am absolutely dreading the trial. I have heard so many horror stories about what the defence puts rape victims through on the stand. Instead of putting him on trial, my character and sexual history will be put on trial. I am dreading being interrogated by his lawyer. But, I know I am strong enough to handle it. I know I will probably break down and cry on the stand (something which I am not looking forward to) but it will not destroy me. I'm ready. Terrified, but ready.

I wish it was all over. I want to enjoy the few remaining weeks of university, I want to spend time with my friends. I want to enjoy the summer balls. I want to have fun, and not worry about facing the man that abused me for 5 years.

I will be behind a curtain, so he can't see me and I can't see him. Part of me is relieved. But part of me wants to see him. The last time I saw him was when he raped me. I have only ever seen him when he abused me. I would like to see him in a setting where I am safe, where he can't hurt me and where I can show him that he has no power over me. Maybe one day. I agreed with the decision to give my testimony from behind a curtain, because I know it would take a lot out of me to see him. But one day, I do want to see him, to prove to him and to myself that I am the stronger one. I want to see him so that every time I close my eyes I don't see his face when he's finished raping me.

So, yes. This week has been tough. I went home to gather my thoughts and get some much needed TLC. But, I am now ready to go back to university and enjoy the last couple of weeks with my friends. I'll be damned if I'm going to let him stop me from having fun.

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...

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.

Recurring nightmare

I have a recurring nightmare. I have it at least once a week, normally more.

In my nightmare, I'm preparing to go on a game show. I'm ushered in to a small room and I await my turn to go on stage. There's a TV in the little room, so I can see what's going on stage. As I watch the TV, I start to become more and more nervous. Eventually, someone comes to fetch me and I have to walk through another room backstage. His wife and parents are in this room. They stop talking and glare at me as I walk past. I can see the pain behind their eyes. They start whispering to each other.

'There she is, it's all her fault.'

Their eyes follow me as I'm led from the room. I can feel their hatred towards me seeping in to my soul. I try not to think about it, but a thought runs through my head; 'it's because of me that they're hurting'.

I'm taken on to the stage and have to sit in a booth. In front of me I can see the audience; one side of the audience consists of my friends and family. The other side consists of his friends and family. There are also some strangers with no connection to either of us; they just want to be in the audience of the show.

On the stage to the right of me are the judging panel. There are about 6 of them. All of them are sitting there, staring at me. He is sitting in another booth to the left of me.

The host of the game show starts to ask questions, trying to burn holes into both of our stories. He makes jokes as he asks the questions. I'm trying desperately not to cry, while he is sitting there; laughing along to the jokes. He looks like he doesn't have a care in the world. It's just a game show.

When we've finished answering the questions, it's time for the panel to talk amongst themselves. They have to decide who they believe.

While they're deciding, a band comes to play on stage. Everyone is enjoying themselves. I'm sitting in my booth, shaking. I can't understand how people can be enjoying this so-called show. How can they be listening to music, while something so momentous is going on?

Once the panel has reached their decision, the host asks the audience what they think. The audience has to press a button, and their verdict comes up on a graph on a screen. Most of the audience votes 'innocent'. The host then says 'well we know what the audience think, but what do the panel say? Remember, it's their vote that counts.'

Just as the panel are about to deliver their verdict, I wake up.

I don't think it takes a brain surgeon to work out what the dream is about and why it has me so upset. I wake up with sweat running off me, shaking. I have to remind myself that it was just a dream.

As a child, I thought the world of him. As a teenager I feared him. As an adult I will face him.

I'm very aware that my dream represents my teenage fear. I just need to remind myself that I will not be facing him as a child or a teenager. He has no hold over me anymore. I am an adult, and I have a team of people around me that are in my corner fighting with me.

He doesn't so much scare me. I can face him. In fact I want to face him. I want to put my adolescent fears to rest and face him as the strong woman I am now. He does not scare me. But the thought that he could get away with what he has done terrifies me.

Me

A long wait

The police contacted me today. They told me that because of the riots, my case has been put on hold. They need all the man-power possible to gather evidence and convict the rioters. I can completely understand that - the public needs to feel safe and secure, they need to see that these criminals are dealt with.

However, just because I understand it, doesn't mean I like it. I was told that they'll pick my case back up in January. The trial (if they decide there's enough evidence) will be held around June. That's a hell of a long wait. I had been told that it will all be over by December, instead I've been told I'll have to wait almost a whole year.

My parents think that it's a good thing, as it means that the trial will happen after my exams. I don't feel that way. I want it over with. Instead, I now have to live with another year of uncertainty, of waiting. I want to be able to close the chapter on this part of my life. I don't want to constantly think, 'do they have enough evidence?' or 'what will the prosecution be like?' or 'I hope I don't cry on the stand'. I want it to be over.

Instead, I have another year for my imagination to run wild. I'm picturing the trial as you see it on TV; with a bored judge, a defender from hell and him, sneering and gloating at me. My mind is automatically conjuring up all the worst-case scenarios; not enough evidence to go to trial, the defence destroying me, him being found innocent, him being given only a caution. I now have another year to imagine what it will be like to see him face-to-face after all this time.

I have nightmares about seeing him in court, where no one believes me and he's seen as the victim, even while he's raping me in plain sight of everyone.

So no, I don't think it's a good thing that I have to wait another 10 months. I want it to be over. I don't want to be in limbo, I don't want to live with this uncertainty. I just want it to be over, one way or another. If they don't have enough evidence, I want them to tell me now. I want to know if we're going to court. If we are going to court, I want it happen sooner rather than later, so I can try and move on with my life and focus on the future.

How am I supposed to try and 'move on' with my life while I have this hanging over me for another 10 months? How am I supposed to focus on the future when my past is hanging over me like a black cloud, refusing to leave?

Me