Til It Happens To You

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holy cow.

Bloody hell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

What I've been doing

I haven't updated for quite a while, sorry about that.  I've just been trying to digest everything and wrap my head around the fact that he is going to jail.

Some people have said to me that I must be feeling great, that I can put everything behind me and move on and forget it ever happened.  Unfortunately it doesn't quite work like that.  Yes, it feels absolutely fantastic that the jury saw him for the monster he is and that he is now in jail.  It's fantastic.  But I still have depression.  I still have PTSD.  I still have insomnia.  I still have anxiety.  Unfortunately a guilty verdict does not equal a miracle cure.

I am getting there, but it's a long process.  I'm doing a hell of a lot better than I was 6 months ago.  And hopefully in 6 months time I will be doing better still.  One step at a time; one day at a time.

The question I keep getting asked recently is; what am I doing with my time now?  For the past 2 years most of my time has been spent worrying about the trial and trying not to have a nervous breakdown.  Now the trial is over and the right verdict was given.  It's been over two weeks since the trial finished, so what am I doing?

Well, I've been working on my Victim Personal Statement.  This will be read out at the sentencing and is basically a paragraph about how the crime has affected the victim.  I thought it would be pretty easy to do - unlike public speaking, writing is something that I can actually do reasonably well.  Peace of cake.  Except, it wasn't a piece of cake.  It was pretty difficult.

Most of the time, before I write anything down, I first of all mentally write a first draft.  That way I'm not sitting staring at a blank screen, wondering how to get started.  So when I sit down and actually start writing, I've got a pretty good idea of what I want to say (though sometimes I can go off on tangents!).  However, with the VPS, I had absolutely no idea where to start.

I would sit there, thinking about what to write, and my mind would just go blank.  How do I write down the effects of 5 years of sexual abuse - and not the rape - in only one paragraph?  That's a hell of a task.  The more I tried to think about what to write, the more I panicked and drew a blank.  Eventually, my Dad sat me down and said that we would to it together, and once I started to write it, the words kept coming.  Eventually, I was able to finish it and send it to the police.

What else have I been doing?  I've quit smoking, today is day 11 of being a non-smoker.  I won't lie, it's difficult and I miss it.  I enjoyed the act of smoking.  I enjoyed socialising whilst smoking.  But it was time to quit - I don't want to be a smoker my entire life.  I don't want to keep hurting my body.  So, I stopped.  I have patches and I have a fake cigarette (which looks like a tampon, hence why I call it 'my tampon'), and I have willpower.  A friend of mine said that if I can get through this year, then I can quit smoking.  And she's right.

I've been socialising with my friends, going out and having fun.  It's been nice socialising with everyone, without the fear of the trial looming over me.

And I've been grieving.  My best friend died and I was so wrapped up in the upcoming trial that I wasn't able to grieve for her properly.  Now I am.  I miss her terribly.  I talk to her.  I cry.  I punch my pillow; furious and devastated that she's been taken away from us.  I still can't believe that I will never see her again.  I will never hear her laugh.  We will never again debate anything (she loved playing the devil's advocate).  I will live the rest of my life without my best friend and that is devastating.  It's a pain so deep and so raw, I don't see how it can ever heal.  I don't talk about it much, because her parents have lost their daughter.  Her brother has lost his sister, and her husband has lost his wife.  My pain must be minuscule compared to theirs.

So I'm struggling with that.  And I'm trying to process everything.  This year I have experienced the ultimate high - my abuser being found guilty and put in jail.  I have also experienced the ultimate low - my best friend dying.  How am I meant to deal with that?

I want to be jumping up and down in the air because my rapist is in jail.  But I want to take my sleeping tablets and curl up in bed and let sleep overcome me, so that I don't have to be conscious in a world without my best friend.  I know she would want me to live and enjoy life, because she was so full of live and determined to make the most out of it.  But I just miss her so much.

My birthday

I haven’t had the time to write anything for a few days – have been so busy.  The day after we got back home, Friday, I spent most of the day decorating and sorting out food and various other things.  On Saturday I had a hair appointment and in the evening it was my murder mystery party.

I had such a great night.  Loved every minute of it.  For those few hours I completely forgot about the court case and instead I thoroughly enjoyed my party.  There was laughter, outrage at being murdered, intrigue, blackmail… I had so much fun.  I hope everyone else did as well.

Today is my actual birthday.  Can’t believe I’m 25… It’s a slightly muted affair today.  I opened all the cards and presents, absolutely love everything I was given.  I have very generous friends and family!!

I’m not really celebrating today though.  The trial is continuing.  There was some sort of administrative error on Friday which meant that they couldn't continue with the case until today.  I’m worried.  I’m wondering what’s happening.  It’s put a slight damper on my birthday, to say the least.

I keep thinking about things I said, things I wish I had said and things I wish I hadn't said.  I know there’s no point thinking ‘what if I had said this’ etc.  But still…  Can’t help running over everything in my mind.  I think that until a verdict is reached, I will be constantly on edge and second guessing myself.

Over the past few days I've also realised just how much work I still need to do.  I’m pretty damaged.  I’m not broken, I've glued myself back together, but the cracks are still there.  One day the cracks will be very faded scars, but for now, I have a lot of work to do.

On the night of my party it hit me just how much work I really need to do.  7 of my friend stayed the night, 3 of which were guys.  I know these men, they’re my friends.  But I still couldn't sleep.  All I kept thinking was ‘there are 3 guys in the house’.  These 3 guys are great, they are such lovely people.  They’re friends.  But he was my friend as well, or at least, I thought he was my friend.  I know now that he was just a pedophile pretending to be my friend, grooming and molding me.

But… I really did think of him as my friend.  And he raped me.  And I’m furious with him.  Because not only did he ruin my childhood, but he has completely destroyed my trust.  I find it incredibly difficult to trust anyone, but men in particular.  Apart from my Dad, there is only one man that I can think of that I would trust with my life, and that’s one of my oldest friends, D. 

And I hate him for it.  These guys that stayed over are great guys – for crying out loud, most of them were staying over with their girlfriends!  But I just could not sleep.  All I kept thinking was ‘there are 3 guys staying the night in my house, I am not safe’.  It’s absolutely ridiculous.  I ended up staying awake until 5am, until I was too exhausted to stay awake any longer.

I wouldn't have had it any other way though – I am glad that these guys stayed over.  The 8 of us had one hell of an after-party which was just awesome.   I just wish I could trust more easily and I wish the friendship of men didn't make me feel afraid.

I guess that’s something to work on with my psychologist.  And have no doubt - I will work on it, and I will fix myself.  In the meantime, I'm not going to let my past dictate my future, nor will I let my past dictate who I am friends with.  I'm young and I deserve to have fun, dammit!

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. 

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.

Worn out

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

It's horrible.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Charges

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

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

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

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

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

Another interview

I've just heard from my police liason officer. It seems he doesn't want any more reports from my psychologist. This is good. What he does want is another statement. I'm unsure how I feel about this.

He said that the investigation is slowly coming to an end, but there are two things that need to happen. One involves him, so he can't tell me what that is. The other involves me. My liason officer said that the Criminal Prosecution Service brought some things to their attention, so they need to interview me again.

Now he won't tell me what it's about due to its sensitive nature. Instead he's asked to come up again to interview me, which shouldn't take more than 2 hours.

I have to admit, I'm nervous. The last interview I did was absolutely exhausting. I had to relive everything. I had to give intimate details about all the abuse and the rape. It was horrible. The only thing that kept me going was knowing I won't have to do it again, until the trial (if there is one).

Now it seems like I have to give another statement. Which has me worried - did I forget to mention something? Have I blocked something from my mind and so didn't mention it?

I wish he could tell me what this is all about. It will give me time to emotionally prepare myself. But for some reason he can't tell me until he sees me. Which means that all sorts of scenarios are racing through my mind. And there's no possibility of me trying to prepare myself.

Do they need me to be unprepared so that they can capture my reactions?

It's probably nothing, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to be thinking about all the possibilities until I'm interviewed again. Add to that, he said that the investigation is nearing the end. This means that soon I will know whether we're going to trial or not. To say that my emotions are running high is an understatement. Soon I will know, one way or another, what my future will bring.

Clothes = healing?

Not long ago, I was having a conversation with a friend. This friend told me, in no uncertain terms, that I should be over my past by now. I was told that I was obviously stuck in a rut, that I had surrendered to my misery and I needed help to get out of it and to get over everything. This person then said that she knew exactly how to heal me. By taking me clothes shopping.

Yes, you read that correctly. Clothes shopping. Apparently, buying new clothes would help me, as a childhood abuse and rape victim, to 'get over it'. I was told that I have no taste in clothes, that I lack style and that my lack of style makes me unnatractive. She told me not to worry though - it's understandable that I want to be unnatractive, given what has happened to me. But it's really about time to move on. So I need to go out and buy clothes that make me stand out from the crowd, that make a statement about myself. And being the wonderful person that she is, she will help me with my fashion sense. In letting her make me over, I'll be halfway there to 'getting over it'. Clothes will, apparently, make me heal.

I am so glad that someone has finally told me what I need to do in order to 'move on'. Buy new clothes and make myself attractive. Wow, I never knew it was so easy! Just imagine, I'll no longer have to work through and come to terms with all the years of abuse, denial, pain, anger, insecurity, fear etc. No, instead, all I need to do is buy new clothes!

As you may have guessed by now, I have many, many issues with this. I don't even know where to start. There are so many things wrong with what she said to me.

Firstly - don't you dare trivialise what I went through. Suggesting that something that has changed and shaped me so monumentally can be 'undone' by a simpe shopping trip is insulting. I can't even begin to describe how belittling and undermining that is. You are basically telling me that what I went through is nothing, that it shouldn't have had this much impact on me. I'm still trying to grasp the extent to which this has affected me, but I know it's more than a simple shopping trip can 'fix'. I'm sure my past has affected me in ways I can't even begin to imagine. However, I'm slowly finding out just how much of an impact this has had on my life. It has skewed my perception of what a healthy sexual relationship should be like. It has almost destroyed my faith in men. It made me fall in to a pit of dispair. It has left me with scars (physically and emotionally) that will never quite go away; they may fade, but they will always be there. So don't you dare try and tell me that what I went through is no big deal, that it is of no significance and is inconsequential. You have no idea how much this has affected me. But there's one thing that you can be sure of, and that is that a shopping trip will not 'fix' this.

Secondly - there is no time frame to recovering. Everyone recovers at a different pace. I suffered through years of sexual abuse. I suffered through rape. Then I spent the next few years living in denial and trying to bury something that was desperate to surface, something that was screaming to be brought out in to the open. I only let it out a few months ago. Over 10 years worth of buried emotions have just been allowed to surface. It's going to take me a hell of a lot longer than a few months to sift through them all. I'm not going to wake up tomorrow and think; 'Oh, it's been a few months now, I better be over this by now'. It's going to take a long, long time for me to work through everything. You rushing me is not helping; in fact, it's making it worse. Not only do I need to focus on working through everything, I now also have to worry about working to someone else's expected time frame. Will people think I'm weak or a drama queen if I haven't reached "step 5 of the grieving process" by tomorrow? Back off and let me heal in my own time.

Thirdly - who gave you the right to judge me? I am not, as you may think, stuck in a rut. I have not surrendered to my misery. In fact, I'm fighting it with every piece of strength I have. I was completely and utterly stripped to the core. It felt like I was left completely and utterly broken, cowering in a cave of despair. You have no idea just how much I am working to come out at the other side, to start to live again and see the beauty in life again. Yet you judge me, saying I'm just a misery guts. You are completely ignoring just how far I have come, how much work I have put in to putting myself back together. Don't you dare belittle all the hard work that I have done - and am still doing - to get my life back on track. I am working damn hard at finding my inner peace, at finding my happiness. So don't you tell me that I'm not working hard enough, or that I'm not working at all, because you have no idea just how hard I'm working.

Fourthly - I may never 'be over it'. It's not like it's the flu - I can't just rest a lot and take medicine and then be better in a couple of days. I won't suddenly forget what happened. In a sense, I will never 'get over it'. The memories will always remain. However, what I hope will happen is that I will find a way to live with it. I'm trying extremely hard to get to the place where I can live with it, but I don't think I will ever 'be over it'.

And finally - I'm sorry that my fashion sense isn't up to your standard. You find me unnatractive? Surprisingly enough, it's not the end of my world that you're not attracted to me. In fact, it may shock you, but I just don't care what you think of my style. I am not, nor will I ever be, a 'girly-girl' or 'chic'. That's not who I am. I am most comfortable in jeans and a tshirt, not an expensive skirt with a designer belt and a cute top. I am me, and I am - finally - getting to be comfortable with who I am. I will never be a fashion designer. I have absolutely no idea what the latest 'in thing' is. And I don't really care either. You may not like what I wear, but I do. I'm not pretending to be someone I'm not. I'm just me. I wear what I want to, depending on my mood on that particular day. Sometimes I dress in what you may call 'goth' wear. Sometimes I wear what you may call 'girl next door'. Sometimes I wear what you might call 'tom-boy', or 'urban', or 'butch' and yes, sometimes even 'girly'. You may not like that I don't just stick to one sort of style, or you may not like the style I wear most days. But you know what? Tough.

Right, that's my little rant over! I just had to get that off my chest.

Me

They've found him

I'm shaking. I'm actually shaking. I'm trying my best not to cry. I'm just completely and utterly shocked and stunned. I don't know what to think. The police have just called. They think they've found my rapist. They've arrested him. They want me to go down to London to pick him out from several pictures on a computer.

He's denying all the charges. He's said I'm making it up. I feel sick. I had hoped he would confess to being a peadophile, to abusing me, so that I wouldn't have to do anything. But he's not, he's denying everything. I suppose I'm not surprised - of course he's denying it. But I did hope.

I'm going to have to see him again. I know it's only a picture, that he won't see me, I know that. It's just a picture. But I'm terrified. I'm going to see him again. After six years. The last time I saw him was the night that he raped me. And now I'm going to see a photograph of him.

What if I don't pick him out? I'm a psychology student, I know that eye-witness testimonies are flawed and unreliable. What if I pick the wrong man? What if I don't recognise him? I close my eyes and I can see him - but what if the picture I have of him in my mind is nothing like the reality? The whole case relies on me pointing him out - if I don't pick him out, then the case is dropped.

I can't even describe the range of emotions I'm feeling. I'm just in shock. I never thought this day would arrive. I'm glad it has, don't get me wrong, I want him caught, I want him in jail and punished for what he did, I want him stopped so that he can't hurt anyone else. But I'm terrified as well.

I never want to lay eyes on him again, but I know I have to. That he's been caught is a good thing. But now I have to see a picture of him, and then maybe face him in court. It's terrifying.

I feel sick.

I'm also craving a cigarette right now. I haven't smoked in 35 days, but right now I want nothing more.

I just can't begin to describe how I'm feeling. I can't stop shaking. My instinct is to withdraw into myself, to hide away and process it in my own time. To stew on it for a while. I just want to hide away, to escape everything. I know that's unhealthy and completely The Wrong Thing to do.

I just feel sick and can't stop shaking and I'm terrified of somehow messing up and ruining the police case.

Me