11 years

I'm taking a moment today.  A moment to breathe, a moment to think & reflect, a moment to remember.

My sexual abuse happened over the space of 5 years.  The abuse culminated in me being raped in the back seat of his car when I was 17 years old.  It was 11 years ago today that I was raped.  For me, this date is always a difficult one.  In the past I would hide away.  I would stay in my bed, I would be flooded with memories; I would drown in the memories.

Today is different.  Today I am looking at how far I have come.  And I have come pretty damn far. 

With help from my family, friends & the police, I was able to face my abuser in court.  It was one of the most difficult experiences of my life - but I did it.  I put my abuser behind bars.  I started to heal & look after myself.  I started taking better care of myself - physically, emotionally & spiritually.  

Gone is the woman that tried to make herself invisible.  Gone is the woman that was afraid of men.  Gone is the woman with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Instead, here is the woman that is loud and proud.  Here is the woman with a wonderful, caring, kind & supportive boyfriend.  Here is the woman that is ready to seize life and live it.

Don't get me wrong - it is still a pretty emotional day for me and I'm not quite on my 'A' game.  I listened to some music and had a cry.  But that's okay.  I have turned into a strong woman, and have come to understand that there is strength in crying.  In truth, I feel a lot better for letting it all out.  

Today I am looking back at my journey and acknowledging the strength and determination it took to get here.  Today I am realising that I am one hell of a woman with a bright future ahead of me.

11 years ago today was one of the worst days of my life.  Today, I am happy.  I am amazed at how far I have come.  Today, I am proud of myself.  

Moving on

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

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

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

So, what's been happening in my life?



A Weighty Issue

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

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

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


A New Diagnosis

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

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

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


University

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

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


Family & Friends

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

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


Me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

I identified him

It's just gone 1AM on Saturday morning. I am yet to fall asleep. I want to stay up until I am absolutely exhausted, so that I'll be too tired to dream (or to remember my dreams). I don't want to dream about him.

I was on edge all day yesterday (Friday). I tried to eat, but couldn't bring myself to stomach more than a few bites. I tried to busy myself with anything - but I kept thinking about what lay ahead. I was dreading it and just wanted it to be over.

Finally, the time came to drive to the identification unit of the police station (the detective on my case was kind enough to travel up here, instead of me having to travel down there). I sat in the car and my Mum (Dad drove down in his car) keyed in the address on the SatNav. I got a shock when she said the name of the street that the station was on - it was his name. I thought that must be an omen, but couldn't decide whether it was good or bad.

I also think I may have damaged my Mum's hearing - I played my music extremely loud and sang (or rather, shouted) along with the songs. I wanted the music to drown out my thoughts.

Eventually we arrived at the station and one of the officers led the three of us in to a waiting room. I tried to distract myself by reading the posters that was up on the wall.

One of the posters was of four handwritten letters, sent by children. The children had obviously been on a school trip to the station. It said something along the lines of 'I had a great time and enjoyed standing in the line-up. I was number 7 and my friend was number 8. I hope I never have to be in that room again.'

That got me thinking. None of us imagine having anything bad happen to them, and none of us can imagine doing anything that warrants them a trip to the police station. I know I certainly didn't imagine myself standing in a police station waiting to identify the man that groomed, exploited and raped me. And I'm sure he would never have thought himself capable of doing that. He was once a child himself - what had he been like? What made him turn in to the monster that he is?

Then another officer came and led me into a separate room. I had to answer some routine questions and then I was told to face the computer. I was told that 9 short video clips will be played. I wasn't to comment or say anything until they had played through twice. The videos started playing. I was nervous. I was so scared I wouldn't recognise him.

Number one - it wasn't him. Number two - not him. Number three - looked a bit like him, but not really. Number four - not him. By this point I'm thinking 'oh God, what if he's not here? What if he is and I just haven't recognised him?'. Number 5 - I stop breathing. It's him. My mind goes blank, I can just see him. He's changed over the years, but it's definitely him. I barely even notice the other 4 people.

After the second time, the officer asks if I would like to see any clips again. I say number 5. I need to see him again. I don't want to - but I need to. This is the first time in six years that I've seen him - I want to scream at him, I want to shout. I want to see if he has a conscience. I want to know that he knows that what he did was wrong and hurt and changed me in so many ways. But of course - none of this happens. All I'm looking at is a 15 second video clip.

I identify him as the man that raped me. I am then led back in to the waiting room. My parents asked me how it went - I couldn't answer them, I had to rush to the toilet. I sat over the toilet, dry heaving. I felt sick to my stomach. Seeing him had completely thrown me. I realised though that I wasn't going to be sick, as I had an empty stomach.

Sitting back with my parents, we waited for the detective on my case to join us. It's a new detective that I haven't met before, as the other one has been promoted and is no longer in the same unit. I like the new detective, she seems very nice and a hard-ass - the perfect mix. I like that she's fighting with me, I like that she wants to see him punished.

She said that yes, I had identified the man that they had arrested. I breathed a sigh of relief - by this point I had been second-guessing myself. 'What if I picked the wrong man?' I didn't think I had, but the insecurity was there.

Now it's just a waiting game. Waiting for more evidence to be collected. Waiting for reports to be filed. Waiting for, hopefully, charges to be filed. The detective thinks that it will all be finished in less than 6 months.

Right now, my head is all over the place. I still feel slightly sick about seeing him. I feel relieved that that part is over. Angry at him. I'm also aware that it's not just me he has to deal with - it's my family, my friends and the police. I am not in this alone. He will never be able to hurt me again.

Yet every time I close my eyes, I can see him staring out at me from inside the computer. It felt like he was looking right at me. And I stared straight back at him.

I'm ready to fight him. I'm done hiding away from him. He knew me as a weak girl - he's going to get a shock when he realises I am a strong woman.

Me

This Friday

I had a fantastic time on my course - I found it amazing.

The night before the first day I only managed to get about 3 hours sleep, as I was plagued by nightmares - which wasn't surprising. After all, being so close to the place where it happened was bound to bring it to the surface and make me think about it, which in turn will make me dream about it. I was absolutely exhausted, but also determined that he wasn't going to ruin this for me. So, dosed up on caffeine I not only made it through the day; I loved every second of it.

There were, however, some times on the course that was difficult. Especially since one of the helpers looked like him. Now he was a kind of average guy that looks like a lot of people, so I'm used to that. I just think it was more difficult because I was on edge and I was thinking about him a lot. But it was fine - I managed to move past it and realise that the helper was a decent guy and not him.

I also decided to not hide away in my hotel room when the day was over. Why should I hide myself away? I'm not a scared little girl anymore. So I explored the surrounding area, making myself familiar with the area. I must admit - I was uncomfortable walking around alone by myself, but I forced myself to continue. By the end of my little exploration, I was even enjoying myself.

Night time was the worst though. Everything is always worse at night. Nothing too bad - just a lot of nightmares. I think 3-4 hours sleep was the average amount.

The police called as well. Luckily I didn't get their message until after the course was finished.

I'm going to be doing the identification on Friday. I won't lie - I'm extremely scared and nervous.

What if he's changed so much I don't recognise him? What will seeing a picture of him do to me? I haven't seen him (in person or a photo) since it happened six years ago. Yes, I see him in my nightmare - but that is completely different.

At the minute, every time I find myself with nothing to do, he pops in to my head. Every time I close my eyes; I see him. He's there, lurking, ready to jump out when I least expect him to.

I'm just very unsettled at the minute. And I'm worried that this will all be for nothing - what if I mess up and don't pick him out? It will all have been for nothing. I would never forgive myself.

Me