There is hope

It's been a long time since I last posted.  I've been focusing on enjoying life and living it, instead of trying to analyse how I'm feeling and why I'm feeling that way.  It's been nice to get out of my own head for a while and just roll with things.  And you know what?  I've realised that I am actually enjoying life.

I never thought it would be possible.  I was convinced that I would be in the throes of depression, insomnia & PTSD for the rest of my life.  I was convinced that I would always suffer from flashbacks & nightmares.  Luckily, I was wrong.  Flashbacks are few and far between - it's been over a month since my last one.  Likewise, I haven't had any nightmares about my abuse & rape in a long time.  My sleeping has also improved tremendously.

I spent about a month trying to kick my insmonia's ass, and I have!  I forced myself to get up early in the morning and refusing myself any naps during the day.  I forced myself to go to bed at a reasonable hour at night and didn't allow myself to get up when sleep eluded me.  Instead I forced myself to stay in bed until I finally drifted off to sleep.  This did mean that for about a month I was a wreck, surviving on only a few hours of disturbed sleep a night.  But then something wonderful happened - I started to sleep for 4 hours at a time, then for 6 hours and now I generally sleep between 8-10 hours a night.  Amazing!  I've had insomnia since I was an early teen, so being able to sleep through the night is fantastic.  I'd forgotten how good sleep can be! It's wonderful.  Mind you - if I had been at university or at work I wouldn't have been able to kick my insomnia's ass, as I was barely functioned during that month and could not have worked or studied.  It makes me realise how right the university was on insisting I take a year out.

So - I am now finding myself in a much happier place.  My smiles are real.  My laughter is real.  I am not acting, I am not pretending.  I am actually happy.

This isn't to say that I don't have my down days though, because I do.  My depression and PTSD aren't quite cured yet either.  They're the best they've ever been, but they're still there.  Also, every now and then a smell or a sound or a phrase will remind me of him and what he did to me.  However - I think about him less and less.  Days (even a week) can go by without me thinking about what happened.  Hopefully this will continue, until weeks or months have passed between me thinking about him and the abuse.

I also still flinch and jump a lot.  I still find physical contact quite difficult and I still have trust issues.  I'm working on it though.  (As a side-note, if you know me in real life and want to help - lots of physical contact is a good thing; hugs, touch on the arm whilst talking etc).   

So, you ask, what have I been doing with my time?  Well, I am now a qualified first aider (hurrah!).  I have been mourning my best friend (it was a year yesterday that she died).  I've been sorting things out for the move (in a few months I'll be moving in with a good friend of mine).  I've been working through my issues with my psychologist  I've been socialising with my friends and I've been going backwards and forwards to various doctors. I was recently diagnosed with Type 3 Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, which is a hypermobility disorder.  Unfortunately, one of the main symptoms of Type 3 EDS is chronic pain, which means that some days the pain is so severe that all I can do is lie in my bed and try and find a position that doesn't hurt. However - at least I'm not spending days in bed due to depression!!

So, what I want to say is this: there is hope.  Things will get better.  It takes a lot of time, a lot of effort and a lot of support, but eventually things do get better.  The changes start off small - they're barely noticeable, until suddenly you realise that your laughter is genuine, or you've gone a couple of nights without a nightmare or you realise it's been days since you last thought about your abuser.

I know how that sounds.  People told me that eventually my life would continue and I would move on, that I would forget about the abuse.  I never believed them.  I just could not imagine myself ever moving on from my childhood.  But I'm here to tell you that it's true.  Life does get better.  Of course there will still be days when it's pretty bad, where all you can think about is the abuse.  But those days become fewer and farther apart.  And whilst I don't think I will ever forget about the years of abuse, I do believe that eventually it will fade into the background of my mind.

There is hope.  Life does continue.  It will get better.  I'm living proof of that.

Testifying again

1:10am – Please brain, please let me go to sleep.  It’s actually hurting my eyes to have them open to type this, but I just can’t get to sleep.  I’m so, so tired.  Why can’t I sleep?  I need to be on top form for tomorrow.  I need to be at my best, because I’m going to be hit with the defense’s full strength.  I need to be well rested so that I’m capable of defending myself from the defense.  This is awful.  Please brain, let me sleep.

1:40am – Still can’t sleep.  I’m tossing and turning.  I’m trying to empty my mind, to steady my breathing.  I’m using all the tricks in the book to help me sleep and nothing is working.  I've given up for now.  I’ll try again in a little while.

I forgot to mention before, what with everything else that’s going on – but the defense doesn't have the link to my blog.  Thank God for small mercies.  It turns out that my parents gave the link to the police (which I knew about, after they had given it) and the police told the defense that I had a blog.  I thought that meant that they had given them the link, but they haven’t.  All that they’re required to do by law is to let the defense know if its existence, they don’t have to let them know of the location.  So that’s good.

My family and friends are also being amazing.  I’m getting so many texts, emails and messages on Facebook wishing me luck, and telling me that they’re praying of me/thinking of me/sending me positive vibes.  The support is overwhelming.  I have some pretty amazing people in my life, which I am extremely grateful for.

I wonder what he’s doing right now?  Is he managing to get any sleep?  Is he as worried as I am?  Or is he confident that he’s going to get away with it, because people like him always get away with it?

I know that no matter what happens, I've done all that I can.  But that’s only a small comfort.  To be honest, it’s not very comforting at all.

Things keep going round and round in my head.  I keep thinking about what the defense said, and how frustrating it is that I’m not allowed to tell the whole story.  I hate the fact that the law is bending over backwards to accommodate him, whereas it is bitch-slapping me in the face.  I now understand when people say that it’s like being raped all over again.  Because that’s exactly what it feels like.

All I can do is stay calm, to not rise to the bait.  When she is bombarding me with things like ‘I think that’s not what happened, I think this happened, I think that happened, I think you’re mis-remembering etc.’, all I can do is to keep repeating ‘no’, over and over again.

Isn't it true that you only met when you were 16?

No.

Isn't it true, in fact, that you never met?

No.

Isn't it true that there was no mention of anything sexual?

No.

I think you’re misremembering.

No.

I think you’re over exaggerating.

No.

I think you like to tell stories and make things up.

No.

On and on and on it goes.  On the bright side, however, is the fact that I’m not stupid.  Okay, I’m not exactly a genius, but I’m not dumb either.  So when she asked me why, when I was in my early teens, I searched for something along the lines of ‘rape support, rape laws, falsely accused rape, incest, pedophilia’ etc etc.  I told her the truth.

I was doing a presentation for school.

As a young teenager you chose the topic of pedophilia?  Doesn't this, in fact, mean that you knew what was happening to you, that you would have told someone when you realised it related to you?  That, in fact, you’re making the whole thing up and none of this ever happened, but that you like the attention?

We all had to choose a topic that would have a big impact – some of my friends chose domestic violence, testing on animals for cosmetic reasons, famous serial killers and so forth.  I wanted mine to have an impact as well so I chose that subject, as not long ago the famous pedophile Marc Dutroux had escaped from prison and was always on the news, that’s what gave me the idea for my presentation and I never associated it with me, because I thought that he was my friend, I trusted him.

I don’t think she was expecting my answer to be so coherent.  But, like I said, I was telling the truth.  I swore on the Bible to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. 

Yes, looking back now I can see that he was grooming me, that he was using me for his perverted sexual pleasure.  But at the time I didn't realise this.  I thought I had made a cool older friend.  I was being bullied at school, I was fat, I was shy.  Then here’s this cool older guy that says I’m pretty, that I’m perfect as I am, that I am funny and sexy.  He listens to my dumb, childish problems.  He treated me like an adult, he listened to me.  And when he asked me if I’d ever kissed or touched anyone, I thought he was just interested in me.

Now, as an adult looking back, I can see all the obvious warning signs.  I can see exactly what was happening.  At the time I thought I’d made a new friend, and I didn't want to disappoint him by being childish in case he stopped being my friend, so I did what he wanted.

But at the time I didn't know what was happening, I couldn't see it.  I was a child.  I know it wasn't my fault.  But the defense keeps pushing and pushing at me, blaming me, calling me a liar, that I’m doing this for the money, that I’m living in a fantasy world, that I've got the wrong guy and so on.

It’s draining.  So draining.

And that was only round 1.  Round 2 is tomorrow (or rather, today).  And I’m dreading it.

Why am I being punished for being abused?   I hate this so much.

2:40am – Sorry about my last entry, I know I rambled quite a bit.  I’m just so unbelievably tired and can’t think straight.  I’m leaving it in, because I think it’s a pretty accurate representation of where my head is at the minute.

I desperately need sleep.  Why can’t I bloody well get to sleep?  I’m about to cry tears of utter frustration.

1:30pm – I eventually managed to get to sleep sometime between 3-4am.  I did not want to get up this morning.  Am exhausted.

We arrived in court just before 10am.  There was another woman in the witness lounge and we got talking, she was telling me about her case (not going to go in to details, but she was here for a domestic violence case as the victim).  Talking to her helped me quite a bit, I forgot why I was here for a while, and was just listening to her.

Then at just after 11am I was called through to the witness box.  I was reminded that I’m still under oath.  Then the prosecution (the good guys) questioned me.  So many questions.  Entries from my diary were read out – my Lord, I was such a melodramatic child!  It was quite hard to read it, especially in front of everyone.  I wrote a lot of crap about my parents, saying I hated them,  I wrote about my self-harm and bulimia, I wrote about silly childhood crushes etc.  It was embarrassing having my life dissected.   The validity of my diary was questioned etc.

Then questions about the internet history were asked, about all the porn sites he sent me.  I told the truth, that I can’t remember the names of them so couldn't confirm for definite, but that if you looked at the times of them it was around the time that I was on the computer etc.

Then she asked me why I only went to the police as a young adult, and not as a child.  I again told the truth.  That I didn't tell anyone, that it took me years to tell my psychologist and then it was only with her help and support that I was able to tell my parents, months afterwards.

Now the court has broken up for lunch.  I was being questioned for almost 3 hours.  And that was only the prosecution.  At 2pm I have to go back to be interrogated by the defense.  I’m terrified.

When I was brought back to the witness area, I was shaking so much I couldn't even hold and drink my cup of coffee for fear of spilling it.  I've had two cigarettes and I’m about to have another.  I cried and hugged my Mum.

I also prayed.  The chapel wasn't open, but there’s an empty room that I was allowed to use, and I prayed.  I cried a bit.  I asked for strength.

I feel a lot calmer now.  I’m still shaking a bit and I’m still terrified, but I feel calmer.  I trust in God, He gives me strength.

Oh man, I’m absolutely terrified to be interrogated by the defense again, to be called a liar, a money-grabber etc etc.  I want this to be over.

10:00pm – I’m at home now.  Ended up being questioned by the defense for 45 minutes.  I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not – 45 minutes.  It was still pretty awful.  She kept phrasing things in a way that made me look awful.

She also asked the question about why it took so long for me to report, especially as there could be other victims.  And that’s something I have to live with for the rest of my life – knowing that, because of me, he could have hurt someone else.  Because I was too weak to come forward.  Yes, he would be ultimately to blame, but I could have stopped him.  Potentially, someone’s ruined childhood is on my hands.  And I have to live with that guilt for the rest of my life.  It haunts me.

She asked so many other questions, made out the diary was fake, that I had just written it, that I had only mentioned him a few times and he was just a friend etc.  I only mentioned him a few times because at the time I was terrified that my Mum would find my diary and read it and find out about him.

It was awful.  She hadn't quite finished her questioning, but the T-loop system broke, so I couldn't hear a thing.  I was dismissed. 

I came out of the courtroom and found my parents.  I broke down crying.

My police liaison officer has just been amazing throughout all of this.  She is absolutely fantastic.  So is the kick-ass detective.  Couldn't ask for better.  They’re both absolute stars.

I’m home.  The drive back was long, and I couldn't sleep.  Was too agitated, so I kept my parents company while one drove and the other had a nap, and I am now home.  I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed.

I just want this nightmare to be over.  I’m drained – emotionally and physically.  Exhausted.  Depleted.  I just want this to be over.

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.

Back to reality

To start with, I just want to apologise if this entry doesn't make much sense - I'm quite sleep deprived and just writing down my thoughts, which probably aren't that coherent.

For the past 3 weeks I've been on holiday. It has been absolutely amazing. Would you believe it, I was actually on holiday in Antarctica. How crazy is that? It was fantastic. I had such an amazing time, and I barely thought about my rape. I would go several days without thinking about it - which is a pretty rare thing. Normally I think about it every day, in the sense that it's a shadow lurking in the back of my mind.

However, on holiday, this wasn't the case. I hardly thought about it at all. I was too engrossed with exploring and experiencing the Antarctic. I was in a place that was so far from my reality, from my life and from everything that I knew, that I could just be. I could enjoy the moment, enjoy my holiday.

I don't know if that makes any sense or not. I'll try and explain. Normally, things will remind me of him, of the years of abuse, of the rape. I'll see someone walking in the street that looks slightly like him, and everything will come rushing back. I'll walk past a car park, and will remember that night. There are constent reminders and associations everywhere I go. Except on holiday - there was absolutely nothing that reminded me of him in the Antarctic. Because everything I saw there was a completely new experience for me, there was nothing there that I could associate to him or the abuse.

It was amazing.

Sadly though, all good things must come to an end. Including the holiday. It's time to get back to reality.

It's currently past 3am, I'm in a hotel room in Germany, waiting for my flight back home in the morning. While I was on holiday, I could sleep. Now I find that I'm unable to get to sleep. Thoughts of him, of the possiblity of a trial, keep popping in to my head.

I know that as soon as I get back, I need to get in touch with my police liason officer. He called before I went on holiday and said he has some things I need to sign. I'm guessing he needs my permission to get some more records from my psychologist. I'll need to know exactly what records he wants before I sign anything. The police are collecting evidence to prove that I was abused and raped. So obviously they want records from my sessions with my shrink. But, as my shrink pointed out, the defense and him, will have access to all the evidence, including the reports.

I don't want him to know anything about my life. I don't want to just hand over the notes that my psychologists made, because there's a lot of personal things in those notes. Nothing earth-shattering, but I just don't want him to have access to any part of my life. I don't want him to know about arguements with my family, my past relationships, my friends etc. He's already taken a part of me, I'll be damned if he's going to take anything else.

So of course, this means that I need to make sure that what I'm signing states that the police can only take the notes that will be relevant to the case. Which, from their point of view is frustrating. After all - they want everything, because how will they know if it's relevant or not until they've read it? But if they read it, then the defense has the right to read it. I want to do everything and anything in my power to put this man away. But giving him access to every single part of my life? I can't do that. I can't let him taint my life any further than he already has. I can't have him knowing everything about me.

So my psychologist, the police and I are trying to work something out that we're all happy with. And my psychologist has been absolutely amazing. She's had experience with this before, and knows exactly what the police need, and also what's best for my well-being.

So. The holiday is over. Back to reality and everything that that brings with it. Not only my memories of him, or the possibility of going to trial, or the nightmares, the sleeplessness and working out my privacy issues, but also university and studying.

I will admit that sometimes it does feel like too much. It does feel like I'm almost bursting at the seams with everything that's going on. But I refuse to let him take any more years of my life. I am living my life. I am getting my degree. And I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that it's a good degree. I will not let him take my future.

To finish with, I'll leave you with a quote that I came across, about child abuse, but I think the same goes for rape and abuse that occurs at any time in someone's life.. Child abuse casts a shadow the length of a lifetime - Herbert Ward.

Me

Night

I can't sleep. It's almost 4.30am. I've taken my sleeping tablets, but they don't seem to be kicking in. I'm meant to see the doctor about getting a higher dose, just until all this uncertainty about whether there will be a trial or not, is over. I really should make that appointment soon.

Instead, right now, I'm stuck with all my memories. I want to sleep, I want to drift in to a peaceful sleep and not have any nightmares. I want to dream about nice things - fluffy bunnies and angels. Unfortunately, I've not had those kind of dreams in a long time. Not since he stole my childhood from me.

It's the not knowing that's the hardest part. I've done all I could do. I told the police, I gave them all the information I could give. They gathered all the evidence they could find. Now it's just waiting. Will he see justice? It's the not knowing that's killing me.

I don't even care if he goes to prison for what he did to me, or for something else. I just want him locked up. I want him to face some kind of justice. He's a pedophile, so the chances are high that they'll find something incrimincating. I just hope it's enough to put him behind bars.

Mid-november seems like such a long time away. How am I meant to have a decent night's sleep, knowing all of this is up in the air? Not only do I need to sleep, I need to be functioning - I'm in my 2nd year of my degree, I need to focus on my work. It's not easy though.

Every time I close my eyes, I see him. It's not that I'm scared of him - not anymore. If he tried any of that sh*t that he used to do to me, he'd have another thing coming. I'd kick his ass. No, I'm not scared of him. I'm scared of the memory of him. It's the part of me that's still 12, 13, 14... 17 years old that's scared of him, the him of the past. When he did have power over me. It's the him in my nightmares that I'm scared of.

That's why I want to go to trial - I want to face him, once and for all. I want to look at him and think 'what a horrible, sleazy, pathetic excuse for a human-being'. I want to look him in the eye and have him realise that he hasn't ruined my life, that he doesn't have any control over me. I want to face him and I want him to face justice. I want him to realise that his actions have consequences, that he can't just go around abusing people, abusing kids.

I want to face reality and see him for the pathetic creature he is. In the meantime... in the meantime I'm stuck with the memories of a terrified child. In the meantime, I wait.

In the meantime I'm plagued with horrible thoughts. What if he's abused other kids in the past 5 years? I could have stopped that from happening if I had just told the police sooner. Everyone keeps telling me that I can't control what he does, who he hurts. In my head I know this. But in my heart... I know I will feel guilty if it turns out he's hurt other kids. It will feel like I could have stopped him, but didn't. By me not doing anything, he could have stolen another child's childhood. That weighs pretty heavy on my mind.

I just want this to be over. I just want to know, one way or the other, what will happen.

I just want a decent night's sleep.

Me

Insomnia

I am currently on holiday and using my mobile phone to update my blog. Ah, the wonders of the modern world. I do apologise for any spelling mistakes - using the keypad on my phone isn't the easiest of things.

It's currently gone 3am where I am. I can't sleep. He keeps popping in to my head just as I'm drifting to sleep. This of course makes me jerk awake. So, sleep is impossible. What can I do instead?

Not much. The friend that I'm staying with is asleep in the next room, with no door between our rooms. So watching TV is out of the question. Before you suggest watching it with no sound; I'm in Finland, any subtitles that a show will have is in Finnish. I do not speak or read Finnish. Besides, I doubt there's anything interesting on at this time of the morning anyway.

So TV is out of the question. As is using her laptop to browse the net - it's password protected. So no laptop. What about reading? I've just finished the only book I brought with me. Besides, the light would probably wake her up.

As you can see, there's not much I can do to distract myself. I'll have to stop using my phone to go online soon as well, as it will be costing me a fortune.

It seems that I'm stuck with nothing but unwelcome memories tonight.

I just want to sleep. I'm meant to be up reasonably early tomorrow to do touristy things with my friend. I'm going to be absolutely exhausted. Great.

Why won't my past stop haunting me? Why won't it let me enjoy these few days I have with my friend?

I just want to sleep. Can't he leave me alone for one weekend? He's taken so much from me already, why does the memory of him have to take this weekend as well?

Me