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.  

Til It Happens To You

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holy cow.

Bloody hell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let the music do the talking

Today is the anniversary of my rape.  Instead of using words to describe what I'm feeling, I thought I'd let the music I've been listening to do the talking.


Tori Amos - Me And A Gun:  Lyrics


Linkin Park - Easier To Run


Evanesence - Going Under


Metallica - Until It Sleeps


Black Stone Cherry - Holding On... To Letting Go: Lyrics


Christina Aguilera - Fighter

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. 

Victim Blaming

I should never have to write a post about victim blaming.  Our society should support victims, should listen to them, and should help them.  Instead, our society says "it's your fault for getting raped.  You should have known better.  You shouldn't have put yourself in the sort of situation that leads to rape."

Our society never blames the rapist.  In fact, our society sympathises with rapists.  You only need to look at the reactions to the Steubenville rape case recently.  The public supported the rapists - after all, they're just young boys that don't know the difference between right and wrong.  How could they possibly know that repeatedly having sex with an unconscious girl was rape?  How could they possibly know that urinating on said girl was abusive?  How could they possibly know that laughing about raping her and filming themselves raping her was wrong?

There was a huge public outcry.  Not, I might add, to demand justice, but to demand leniency for the rapists.  Those poor boys have had their lives destroyed.  Those poor boys are now in jail.  Those poor boys.

What about the poor girl?  She was raped.  Those 'poor boys' forced themselves on her.  They took advantage of her.  Their lives were destroyed?  What about hers?  She has to live with the knowledge that her peers are calling her a slut and wishing that she would die.  People took to twitter to wish her dead.  People said that the boys had learnt their lessons and it wasn't worth ruining their lives over.  Even celebrities backed the rapists, by claiming it was the girl's fault for drinking too much.

That's right, of course!  By having a few drinks you're telling everyone around you that you want to have sex, that you want people to have sex with you while you're unconscious, that you want to be urinated on and that you want to be filmed being abused.  Silly me, how could I forget? 

After all, you have to be so careful nowadays.  Don't wear revealing clothes - but don't look like a prude either.  Don't sleep around - but sleep with enough people so you're not a 'tease'.  Don't walk home alone, don't walk home with acquaintances - in fact, don't walk home at all.  But don't take a taxi either - because the taxi driver might not be able to resist you.  Don't make yourself 'too attractive' so you won't attract the wrong kind of attention.  But don't look ugly either - because if you don't fit society's idea of attractiveness, then you're lucky to get raped in the first place.  After all, only attractive people get raped.

I know, how about instead of having all of these do's and don'ts for potential victims, we have only one rule for potential rapists?  DON'T RAPE.  There, simple.

I'm sick and tired of hearing people blame the victims.  WE ARE NOT AT FAULT.

And it's exactly this attitude - this victim blaming - that stops rape victims from coming forward.  It's why I waited 5 years after the abuse ended to finally tell the truth.  It's why I never said anything while it was happening.  Because I knew that I would be blamed.  I was 12 when it started, but I knew that it was my fault.  Because, after all, only 'sluts' (I hate that word) get raped.  Only bad girls are abused.

I waited for years because I was afraid that no one would believe me.  As it turns out, it was right that I waited.  It took those 5 years to build up my strength and courage.  As a young victim, I would not have been able to handle the backlash that was sent my way.  Close friends asking me 'why I didn't just put a stop to it'.  A friend's boyfriend asking me 'who would want to rape you?'.  Someone even told me that they think most rape charges are false and that the guys (ie RAPISTS) are hard done by.  Being told that the rape charges were being dropped as it was a case of 'he said she said'.  The child abuse chargers were accepted, and we went to trial.  At trial it felt like I was raped all over again.  My life was scrutinised.  I was accused of being a liar, told that I was making things up; that it was a fantasy in my head.

(Please not - I am SO glad to have finally told people.  Because most people stood by me - my family, my friends that mattered, and the police.  I was believed.  I was able to finally start healing.  I stood up to him.  I took my power, my life, back.)

Every day, survivors are having to stand up and fight to be heard, to put the blame where it really lies - on the rapist.  We are having to explain what it means to be raped.  We have to explain, over and over and over again, why it is NOT OUR FAULT.  We are having to shout I DID NOT WANT TO BE RAPED.  And time and time again we are ignored.  Time and time again people stand by the rapist.  

There is so much evidence out there that clearly show that as a society, we criminalise a rape victim and support the rapist.  You only need to look at that time a judge stated in court that it wasn't a real rape, but just a technical rape.  Or read the statistics that explain why cops don't believe rape victims.  Or read this beautifully written blog entry written by a rape survivor, explaining how she was raped.  Or read this disgusting article blaming Nigella Lawson for being the apparent victim of domestic violence. Or type in Google 'rape victim blamed' or 'rape victim shaming'.  The results should disgust you.

I just do not understand why, in this day and age, we are still victim blaming.  We are enlightened in so many ways, and yet we are still failing so miserably.  We are putting the blame on the victim, instead of on the person that committed the crime.  In what kind of world does that make any sort of sense?

Facing him

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a pathetic, horrible little man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whatever.

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

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

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

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

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

13 years and two months!!

Short entry

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

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

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

Guilty!

13:00 - The jury is currently out debating the verdict.  I’m terrified.  Absolutely terrified.

14:00 – Still no news.  It’s taking a long time.  Surely that can only be a bad thing?

15:00 – No news.  Jury is still out deciding.  It’s taking them hours – they went out at just before 11am.  It can only be bad news.  Oh God.

16:30 – GUILTY!!!  He has been found guilty!!  On all 40+ charges!!  This is amazing!!  I can’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling.  It’s amazing.  Overwhelmed.  Elated.  Relieved.  In shock.  It’s just amazing!!

I was standing outside having a cigarette when I got a text from the awesome detective, that just read; ‘guilty!!!!  On all charges!!!’  I screamed.  I actually screamed.  Then I heard my Mum screaming and shouting my name – my aunt had called her and let her know.  I ran inside and we were both screaming and hugging and crying and jumping about.  Dad came to see what was happening and all three of us were hugging.

It’s amazing.  Absolutely amazing.  Justice has prevailed.

I had convinced myself that he would be found innocent.  But justice has prevailed!  GUILTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

18:00 - I've just been on the phone with the lead detective on my case (the kick-ass one).  She talked me through some of the things, let me ask her questions etc.  I can now talk about it, I can talk about everything and I can know what went on in the courtroom.

Apparently the very first day (when I spent the entire day in the witness lounge, but was never called in to testify) there were a lot of legal arguments about a certain piece of evidence.  Apparently he had videos of kids on his phone.  They weren't sexual.  But they weren't his kids either.  The defense didn't want the videos to be admitted as evidence, the prosecution did.  The judge allowed them in as evidence.  Yes, alone they don't prove anything, but when you add them to all of the other evidence...

I was also, finally, told what the other charges were.  Possession of indecent images - so basically, child pornography.

The Detective and I spoke for quite a while, but I can't remember much of our conversation!  I'm just so overwhelmed right now.  I'M SO INCREDIBLY HAPPY.

GUILTY!!!!!

His bail has been revoked and he is now in jail.  His sentencing is on the 4th January.  I will be there for that. I need to give an impact statement, and then the judge will decide on his sentencing.

It's over.  I can't believe it's over.  He has been found guilty.  I don't need to be afraid of him anymore.  He is in jail.

YES YES YES YES!!

And I want to take this time to say a massive THANK YOU to everyone that has been praying for me, that has been sending me messages of support, for everyone that has been thinking of me during this difficult time.  Thank you all so, so much.  You have no idea how much I appreciate it.  Thank you.

God's will has been done.  Justice has prevailed.  Wow.

I can’t write anymore right now.  I have so many emotions swirling around my head right now to even think straight (happy emotions!), so I will leave you all with a song.

Every morning as my parents and I drove to court, this song was playing.  And everything evening as we drove back from court, it was also playing.  On the days when it went well I would sing (or rather, shout) along to it.  On the days were I felt it had gone bad and I felt numb, this song would keep me going.  It gave me strength.  So, enjoy!

Still nothing

Still no verdict yet.  If there’s one thing I've learnt, it’s that the law moves extremely slowly.  Apparently the judge alone gave a 3 hour closing speech.  Three hours.  Is that a good thing?  Or a bad thing?

I’m terrified that he will be found not guilty.  Everyone keeps telling me that no matter what happens; I've done all I can.  It’s completely out of my hands.  I need to move on with my life.  I agree with them.  But it’s not that easy.

Have I really done all I can?  Could I have been a stronger witness?  If only I hadn't deleted all of his emails, his texts, his voice-mails etc.  But I was a stupid kid, I wanted him out of my life.  After he raped me, I wanted to wipe him out of existence.  The closest I could get was wiping any and all evidence of him out of my life.  I can see now that that was an incredibly stupid thing to do.  Had I kept everything of his, then this would be an open and shut case.

He claims we met when I was 16.  My diary disproves that, but so would the emails.

He claims it was never sexual.  All the pictures would have disproved that.

He claims I’m making it all up.  Again; the pictures, the emails and the texts would disprove that.

I’m kicking myself right now.  But I was so convinced that no one would believe me, that I would just put a lid on it and get on with my life.  I never thought I would report him or take him to court.  But I have.  And I wish I still had those emails and pictures and texts. 

What if the jury says he’s innocent?  All of this will have been for nothing.  Except that the police are aware of him.  But still… I have no doubt about the fact that if he’s found innocent, that it will have a big impact on him.  One of the most difficult things I've ever had to do was go to the police and report him, be questioned about him and go to court.  If he’s found innocent, it means that I wasn't believed.  That I would make something like this up, that I would lie after having sworn on the Holy Bible, that I’m a liar.

One of the worst things for a child abuse victim/rape victim is to not be believed.  Now I need to wait and see if these 12 strangers believe me, or him.

Because I told the truth on the stand.  I was sworn in.  I held the Holy Bible and swore to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.  And I did.  Even when it made me look bad, I told the truth.  He didn't, he couldn't have.  Unless he admitted it, which I doubt.  He couldn't be telling the truth if he's disputing everything that I've said.

And my Aunt told me that his daughter was in the court, in the gallery.  Who the fuck would bring their daughter to a trial like this?  She’s only a teen.  Why would he do that?  Why would he put her through that?  Why would his wife allow it?  It’s sick.  Just sick.

I also worry – did he hurt his daughter?  He hurt me, but does that mean that he hurt his daughter as well?

One of the things that I will have to live with for the rest of my life is knowing that he could have hurt someone else.  I could have stopped that from happening, if I had spoken up sooner.  I pray that he hasn't hurt someone else, but I just don’t know.  And that kills me.  I will have to live with the uncertainty and guilt for the rest of my life.

I’m worried.  I’m really worried.  I want to know the verdict so I can deal with it.  Right now I feel like I’m living in limbo. 

I just want this to be over

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.

My birthday

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

Preparing myself

I've been having a bit of a down day today.  I've done nothing I was meant to do, haven't been able to find the energy.  The past few days I've been on a bit of a high as I was keeping myself very, very busy.  But this morning when I woke up, I knew I was in a low.

I've had worse days.  I've not had any flashbacks.  I've not had any PTSD symptoms.  I just feel down.  Think I've run out of energy and my mind is saying;  'ENOUGH, you're going to go through something horrible on Monday, stop burying your head in the sand and DEAL WITH IT.  You need to prepare yourself.  Running around making yourself exhausted is not the way to go.  Figure out your emotions, walk through what will happen in your mind, prepare yourself as best as you can.  STOP PRETENDING you're okay, because you're not, you're worried.  DEAL WITH IT.'

So, today I'm dealing with it.  I'm imagining what will happen.  On Sunday we'll drive down to London.  I'll probably sleep most of the way.  When we arrive in our hotel, I'll try and make myself at home in my room.  I'm going to bring some pictures with me, because I know that after Monday, I'll want to return to a place that feels safe and familiar.  I doubt I'll get any sleep Sunday evening.

Monday, I'll have to be up bright and early.  I'll shower, get dressed, try and eat something.  Then we'll drive to the court house, where I will meet up with my Police Liaison Officer (who I have never met, as the guy that was my PLO for the duration of the investigation has retired).  I'll enter the court house through the side entrance and sit and wait in the witness area.  I'll try and read the book that I brought with me.  I'll look out the window.  I'll pace around.  I won't want to talk to anyone.  I'll try and write some (bad) poetry.  I'll keep checking the clock, until finally, I'm called to testify.

Then I will walk in to the empty courtroom, where a curtain will be put around me in the witness box.  The court room will fill up with the jury, lawyers, people in the gallery, and him.  First the prosecution will question me.  Then the defense will question me, and try to make me out to be the perpetrator  and not the victim.  I will probably break down and cry.  Once the questioning has finished, everyone will leave the court room, then I will leave the courtroom and go back to the witness area, and wait to be called up again.

In the witness room, I will probably cry a bit and be in shock from what just happened.  I will probably be very shaken.  I'll try and eat something, if I can stomach anything.  I won't want to talk to or touch anyone.  I know that will be difficult for my parents, they will want to comfort me.  But I will have just re-lived 5 years of sexual abuse, and will not want to be touched.

We will go back to our hotel.  I'll probably withdraw in to myself, as I try and process all that has happened. I'll go to my room and calm myself down.  I'll probably be exhausted so will want to sleep.  I'll need to factor food in at some point, if I can stomach it.  Then the whole thing will be repeated on Tuesday.  I will also probably be chain smoking the entire time.

Okay.

Okay.

That's not too bad.  Nowhere in my scenario will I run in to him - precautions have been made, that will not happen.  Yes, the defense will try and break me.  But I've been broken before, and I've rebuilt myself from scratch - I'm a pretty damn strong woman now, and whatever s/he says won't break me.  They are only words, s/he is only doing his/her job.  I am safe, I will not be physically attacked.  Yes, s/he will try and trip me up and make out that it was my fault that I was sexually abused.  But I can deal with that.  I'm strong.

I can do this.  I will do this.

I'm not a trusting child, or a frightened teenager.  I am a strong woman that is facing up to the demons of my past.  And I'll be damned if he ever breaks me again.