Tomorrow...?

I’m full of flu at the minute, so I’m not exactly feeling great.

I've heard from the police, and was told that he testified today, and so did some people as a character witness.  When I heard this, I said to my parents; ‘what are they going to say?  That he’s such a nice guy for a pedophile?’ 

I have to joke at the minute – it’s either laugh or cry, and I've done enough crying.

I wish I knew what he said, what was asked, what the character witnesses said etc.  But I'm not allowed to know, not until it's all over.

Tomorrow are the closing speeches and then the jury retires to talk about the verdict.  So the verdict could be tomorrow.  I’m extremely nervous.  What if they find him innocent?  I would have gone through all of this for nothing.  Well, not for nothing.  No matter how this plays out, I don't regret finally telling the truth.  I don't regret going to the police.  It won't have been for nothing, because I - finally - stood up to him and I fought back.

I'm still pretty scared right now though.

And it sucks that I can’t make an appointment with my psychologist.  I’m desperate to talk to her, to talk about the trial, the impact it’s had on me etc.  But there’s a tiny chance that she could be called to give evidence, so we’re not allowed to talk.

I know that it’s the justice system, but it’s absolutely ridiculous.  Until the trial is over I’m not allowed to talk about it, so I’m just left with all these feelings and fears that I’m not allowed to give a voice to.  Not exactly great for my mental health.

But, tomorrow there should be a verdict.  Holy crap.

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. 

First day testifying

10:30am – I managed to get some sleep last night, but not much.  Kept waking up, had a lot of nightmares.  Dreamt about him.  He was chasing me, then caught me and he said ‘I’m very disappointed in you, this was meant to be our little secret, how could you do this to me?  Now you’ll never speak again’, and he ripped out my tongue.  It was horrible.

Right now I’m sitting in the witness area again.  I've had to give my permission for some medical details to be brought up, such as my PTSD.  Don’t really want him to know about it, but I am aware that it could help my case.  I’m realising very quickly that in a case like this, there is no such thing as privacy - my whole life is open to scrutiny.  Not his, but mine.

The witness area is quite busy, there are 4 other witnesses here today for various other cases.  Yesterday my parents and I were alone in the room, today we’re not.  It makes it more formal, more real somehow.

 

I’m also quite worried – I was told to apply for CICA, which I think stands for Criminal Injury Claim Association, or something like that, by my doctor.  So I applied for CICA.  I had never heard of it, and was told it’s the normal thing to do.  Now I've been told by the police that I shouldn't have done that, as the defense will say I’m making it all up for the money, which just isn't the case.  Yes, the money would help (seeing a psychologist is expensive, and that’s what I would spend the money on).  But if it came down to it, I want him to go to jail, I don’t want the money.

So stressed right now.  The fact that I have to read through my statement again and again isn't helping.  I’m reading myself describing the years of abuse over and over.  It’s not pleasant.  I want this to be over.

11:25am – I’m getting much better at this waiting game.  I've been in the witness area for almost 2 ½ hours.  I’m still very anxious and nervous, but I’m not in the same state as I was yesterday.  I’m managing to read my book (which is just some trashy chick-lit I picked up at a service station on the way down).  Time is moving a bit faster than yesterday, probably because I’m not pacing the room and twiddling my thumbs.

I just want this to be over, though.  I’m still dreading being cross-examined.  I've seen enough movies to know that the defense is going to put me through the wringer.  Everyone keeps telling me that it’s nothing personal, that she’s just doing her job.  I know this.  But at the same time, for me it is personal.  She is fighting to free the monster that abused me for 5 years and raped me.  How is that not personal?

She is defending the man that ruined my childhood.  She is protecting the man that stole my innocence.  She is sticking up for the man that raped me.  And she will be attacking me, the one that was sexually abused from the age of 12.

So yes, I know she is just doing her job.  But to me it is personal.  How can it not be?

1:10pm – I've been testifying.  The court has broken up for lunch, I've had a cigarette and some water.  I can’t eat.  I feel sick to my stomach.  It’s worse than I thought.  It’s absolutely terrifying.  And I've only been questioned by the prosecution.  If that was bad, how bad is the defense going to be?  I keep looking at the jury thinking; ‘you are going to decide whether he goes to jail or not.  You are going to decide whether he’s guilty or not’.  They’re normal; they look like normal people, nothing distinguishing about them.  Just members of the public.  They probably don’t even want to be here.  And they’re going to decide his future, and mine.

So far we haven’t gone in to detail.  E. (my barrister) has been asking me questions about my childhood; where I grew up, how many languages I speak, what subjects I took at school etc.  Then near the end she started asking about how old I was when I first met him online, what we talked about (in the beginning it was the current bands – the Spice Girls – and school, Eastenders, things like that.  After a few months it turned sexual, but gradually, so it seemed normal).

I was shaking the entire time.  Absolutely shaking.  I kept thinking, he’s in the same room as me.  He’s listening to this.  He’s in the same damn room as me.  It’s horrible, knowing that your abuser, your rapist, is sitting mere feet from you.  Yes, I can’t see him as I’m sitting behind a screen.  But I know he’s there, listening. 

I hate this.  I want it over.

6:10pm – It was awful.  I’m in my hotel room right now, after being interrogated for 2 ½ hours.  It was horrendous.

First the prosecution interviewed me, which was difficult in itself.  I had to say exactly what happened; what he did, what he made me do etc.  It was horrible and humiliating.  Then the prosecution had her turn.  It was horrendous.  I was preparing myself for the worst, and it was so much worse than that.

She told me that in reality, he and I had only conversed for up to 9 months, not 5 years.  That we had started talking when I was 16.  That it was never sexual.  I kept saying ‘no, no, no’ to everything.  But she made me out to be a complete liar.  Then she used some stories that I had written – I used to fancy myself as an author – and said that if I could write those, then I obviously had a good imagination and could go down to the smallest detail, just like I was doing with this case.  That it was all in my head.

She said I was doing it for the money (the CICA thing).  That I was exaggerating.  On and on and on, until I broke down crying.  It was absolutely horrendous.  And the worst part is, I have no idea if the jury believed her.  It really could go either way.  She was so convincing.

But, the good part?  I now have no feelings whatsoever about him.  I no longer care about him.  At all.  I don’t want to protect him.  I don’t want to make his life easier.  I despise him.  I utterly despise him.  I know I need to work on that, I need to find it in myself and in God to forgive him.  But right now, I hate him.

At 4:30 I was told I could leave, but that I had to go back tomorrow.  I went back to the witness area, saw my parents and burst in to tears again.  I am now completely drained.

6:20pm – I've had a few thoughts.  The first – I kept diaries as a child.  I threw most of them out, or they got lost in the move from Belgium to England.  But I know I kept one from when I was 13 or 14.  I asked a friend up North (who has the keys to our house) to search for it.  They found it!!  I have no idea what I wrote, but he was such a big part of my life, so I must have written about him.  They’re posting it up to the hotel, so that I can give it to the police tomorrow. At least it will prove that he’s a liar, that we were talking when I was younger than 16.

The other thing that keeps going round in my head is that he’s saying we've never met, that we only talked online for at most 9 months.  Complete and utter bullshit.  He admitted to the police when he was first questioned that when I was 17 we had sex.  He said it was consensual.  It wasn't.  But in his statement he said that we had sex.  But I’m not allowed to bring that up.  Why the fuck not?  It would show that he’s a liar.  The law is protecting him, the rapist, not me, the victim.  Why the fuck am I not allowed to mention it, but not use the word ‘rape’?  It would show the jury that he’s a liar, that he lied about that so he’s lying about the rest.

I told the truth.  The whole painful truth, even when it made me look bad.  I told the truth.  So why the fuck can I not point out something that obviously proves he’s a liar?

Okay.  Breathe.  Calm down.  I’m just so frustrated.  Today was hell.  It was 100 times worse than I was expecting.  It was horrendous.  At first I was upset, I cried, I was shaking.  Now I’m furious.  Why does the law protect him and not me?

I’m also wondering why I bothered to report it.  The defense asked that question as well.  She said something along the lines of ‘if what you say is true, why didn't you report it immediately, why wait until you were in your 20s – he could have done it to someone else’.  That is something that I will always blame myself for – if he’s done it to someone else.  But I was scared and at first I didn't realise it was abuse and rape.  Then I thought too much time has passed to do anything about it.  It was only when I told my parents and they believed me and asked me if I wanted to report it, that I realised I really did want to report it.

But seriously, I've just been put through hell.  And the jury might believe him.  So what was the point?

I’m exhausted.  I’m drained.  I want to go home.

6:55pm – I keep going over and over in my head what I was asked, and the answers I should have given.  I can think of so many better answers.  I’m kicking myself.  I wish the justice system was like in America, where the lawyers are allowed to prepare you and give you practice questions and anticipate what the defense will ask.  I was completely unprepared, and I fear I've ruined it.

8:30pm – Memories are coming flooding back.  Things I don’t want to remember.  I’m trying to get to sleep.  I’m so tired.  But every time I close my eyes, I’m flooded with memories.  I want to forget.  But I can’t.  And I’m remembering more and more, it’s horrible.

The first day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I feel anything but calm right now.

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

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

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

She seems nice and good at her job.

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

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

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

God, I hate this waiting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I tell you, the judicial system is absolutely crazy.

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

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

Travelling down

I wasn't allowed to update this blog while the trial was going on, and I wasn't allowed to talk to anyone until the jury had reached a verdict.  However, I still kept a record of what was going on, and wrote everything down in a Word document.  I’m now posting what I wrote on the days that it happened.   I apologize for the swearing, but these are my actual feelings at the time that I wrote it.

18/11/12, evening

So the defense have managed to get their hands on my blog.  That means that for the duration of the trial, I can’t update it.  Instead, I’m following the advice of a friend and writing it in a Word document, to post online later.

I’m currently in London.  The drive down wasn't too bad – I was asleep for the entire journey (didn't get much sleep the night before).  I’m now sitting in my hotel room, reading, surfing the net, watching TV; anything to keep me distracted, to stop me thinking about tomorrow.

I’m absolutely terrified.  I’m now wondering if the defense will use my blog against me.  I don’t think they will, as all I've written about are my feelings.  I don’t regret starting my blog and writing in it – it shows everything that I’m going through.  I am not ashamed of being abused and raped. I am not ashamed of suffering from depression and PTSD.  I am not ashamed of anything that I have done that is a direct (or indirect) result from the years of abuse.  They are a true reflection of everything that has happened to me since the abuse and since going to the police. I will not be quiet; I will not hide in the corner.  I was sexually abused as a child.   I was raped as a teenager.  That is not my fault, and I will not sugar-coat any of the effects it has had on me.

This is my blog.  I am a rape survivor and this is my journey to recovery.  We live in a rape-culture society, and I will NOT sit in a corner and quietly try and fix myself.  I will NOT stay quiet in case I offend someone or make someone uncomfortable.  We live in a society where women are taught not to get raped, instead of teaching men not to rape.  My story (and other stories like mine) need to be heard if there is any chance of changing the view that ‘women ask for it’.

Anyway.  I’m scared.  I will admit that.  I am terrified.  Tomorrow I testify.  Tomorrow I will have to relive 5 years of abuse in front of total strangers.  I will do it.  But I am terrified.

11.55pm – I've been trying to get to sleep for the past hour and a half.  No luck.  I’m absolutely exhausted, but sleep just won’t come.  No surprise there.  My parents said I could wake them up if I couldn't sleep – they would keep me company.  But in all honesty, I just want to be alone right now.  I’m terrified about tomorrow.

Hopefully I’ll just have to testify the one time.  But it’s possible that I could be called to the stand again, unless the judge dismisses me.  I hope he dismisses me tomorrow.

I’m completely unprepared for tomorrow.  If I was in America then my lawyer would prepare me, would ask me the type of questions that the defense might ask me.  I've not even met my lawyer.  The way the system works in the UK, I have to be completely unprepared.  I have no idea what kind of questions the prosecution and the defense will ask.  It’s pretty daunting.

I’m also dreading having to describe the abuse in front of everyone.  It was hard enough giving the statement, and that was in front of 3 people (two of which I couldn't see, as they were filming it).  So yeh, I’m dreading it.

I’m also wondering what he is doing right now.  Is he as worried about tomorrow as I am?  More so?  And I hate myself for this, but a part of me feels sorry for him.  Part of me still cares about him.  I know that is the abused child in me talking.  I know he groomed me, he molded me into his perfect little victim and he didn't give a rat’s ass about me.  But a tiny part of me still cares about him.  And I hate myself for it.

It’s difficult to explain why.  I don’t even understand why.  This man stole my childhood, my innocence.  He abused me for 5 years and he raped me.  So why the hell is there a part of me that feels guilty for putting him through this, why do I feel like I’m betraying his trust?  It doesn't make any sense.  I want to see him rot in jail; I want to see him punished for what he did to me.  But I also feel sorry for him.

So yeh, my emotions are all over the place at the minute.

And it’s just hit me – if the defense has the link to my blog, then that means he does as well.  Has he read what I've said?  I don’t edit my blog – I say it how it is.  I want people to realise the devastation that abuse and rape causes, and the only way to do that is to be completely honest with myself and everyone that reads this.  Which I guess includes him now.

I hate the fact that he could read my blog.  He’s already taken so much from me, why did he have to take the place where I write my unedited feelings down?  Not only did he mold me in to his very own toy, not only did he steal my childhood and corrupt my view on relationships, now he’s taking the one place where I can write openly about the impact his abuse has had on me.

That really, really sucks.  But I’m not going to stop writing.  He made me this way, he made me weak.  I’m not weak anymore and I’m not going to let him stop me from writing this blog.  I will not be silenced.

As you can see, there are some very conflicting emotions there.  I hate him, I despise him.  But a tiny part of me still cares about him.  And I hate that part of me so much – but not as much as I hate him.  Which I guess shows just how much work I need to do to forgive him.  I'm no where near forgiving him yet.

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.

Around the corner

I had the meeting with the university about my request to re-take this year. I think it went well, and they should agree to it. That's a huge weight off my mind. It means I can have a fresh start - this year has been extremely difficult and it's taken all my energy to keep myself together, I had no energy left to focus on my work. And as such, my attendance and the work that I did do was abysmal. So I'm extremely relieved and greatful that I have been given the chance to re-take this year.

I have also heard from the police. The case has now gone from the Magistrate's Court to the Crown Court. The hearing that is taking place on May 22nd is to sort out the practicalities for when it goes to trial (I'm deaf and wear hearing aids, so they need to make sure that the T-loop is on etc) and to hear what he pleads.

I have been told to expect that he will plead not guilty.

So. It sounds like wWe are going to trial. He will plead not guilty.

Oh boy.

I have made the decision to go on the witness stand, but I will be behind a screen. I want to face him. But at the same time, I don't want him to be able to psych me out. I don't want to freeze up on the stand. And there is a huge possibility that I would freeze up if I saw him in person - the last time I saw him was when he raped me.

I just want this to be over so that I can move on.

The lead up to the trial, the trial itself and after the trial will be extremely difficult. I know I'm going to be emotionally drained. I'm already emotionally drained - the meeting with the university took almost all my strength. I have no idea how the trial will affect me.

But this is what I want. This is what we have all been working towards. Finally, after almost 1 1/2 years since I reported the abuse and rape, it looks like the trial is just around the corner.

And breathe...

Worry

In the next week and a half I will hear from my liason officer about what's happening with the trial, if there is a trial. Will he plead guilty to all accounts and go straight to jail, but serve a lesser sentence? Will he plead guilty to some charges and innocent to others? In which case he will still go to jail (due to the other chargers) but I will need to testify against him. Or will he plead innocent to all 40+ chargers? In which case I will need to testify, as well as other people. If that is the case, the chances of him being found innocent are next to nothing, as the evidence for some of the chargers are overwhelming. If he does choose this option, then when he is found guilty, he will serve a longer sentence.

So this is playing on my mind a lot at the moment. I know it is out of my control, I have no say in what happens. But my mind is playing through all the scenarios. Will he plead guilty? Will he plead innocent? Will I have to face him in court? Will I have to relive all those moments in front of everyone? Moments that I can barely bring myself to talk about in detail with my psychologist, friends and family, but will have to tell a room full of strangers. Not just strangers, but the defense, who will do everything s/he can to break me down and convince everyone that I'm lying.

That terrifies me. For almost all of my life, he has had a hold over me, he has abused me, he has raped me. And now, possibly, I will have to relive every single moment in a court full of strangers. I've heard some people say that going to court and being questioned and interrogated by the defense is like being raped again. And I can already see what they mean. I will have to tell them my worst memories, relive them and then argue against the defense as s/he tries to convince people that I am lying, that the abuse never happened, that my pain and suffering aren't real.

There is no best case scenario either. If he pleads guilty he gets a shorter prison sentence. If he pleads innocent I will get ripped apart and stomped on in the trial. For me, it's a lose-lose situation, as far as my mental health goes anyway. I guess it's a win-win in that either way he will go to jail, it just depends for how long.

So yes, it's on my mind a lot at the minute. I'm trying not to think about it, but how can I not?

It's leaving me completely exhausted and tense. My depression and PTSD are quite active at the minute because of it. Which means that it's difficult to study.

No matter how much I study, it's not enough. I'm working so hard, pushing myself to my limits to get this studying done. I'm using every ounce of energy and motivation I have. Which leaves me completely exhausted and depleted. And yet the studying that I can manage to do is no where near enough.

People keep telling me I need to study more, that time is running out, that the exams are looming. I know this. And I am doing my hardest. Everything I write and remember is a huge achievement for me, it is something to be celebrated. But it's not enough. I am doing as much as I physically can without causing myself to have a breakdown. I am working the hardest I can, I am working so hard that I am empty of everything else. But it's not enough.

I know I should feel angry at him for putting me in this position. I know if it wasn't for him I wouldn't have PTSD and I wouldn't be pushing myself to the absolute limits with almost no noticeable results. Yet I'm just too exhausted to feel angry. I'm too exhausted to feel much of anything. Except worry.

Worry about what news my police liason officer will bring. Worry about what my next nightmare will be about. Worry about facing him. Worry about being pushed to break down in court. Worry about not studying enough. Worry about failing my exams. Worry about having another panic attack. Worry about being a dissapointment - to myself, my friends and my family.

Me