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.

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.

The day after tomorrow

I travel down to London tomorrow.  Then on Monday the trial starts.  Right now, it doesn't feel real.  After almost 2 years of waiting, is the trial really happening tomorrow?  It really doesn't feel real.

The other night I went out to some pubs with my friend A.  It was exactly what I needed.  We chatted, we laughed, we teased.  It was a fantastic night.  However, when I got back home, I couldn't get to sleep.  No matter how hard I tried, sleep just would not come.  In the end, I fell asleep at about 6AM.  Not good, as I had a doctor's appointment at 9AM.  I was absolutely exhausted.  I did manage to have a nap during the day though, which helped some.

I was also meant to be going out for a friend's birthday.  First I dropped my parents off at a local pub, then I came back home to get ready.  I picked my parents back up a few hours later.  Then exhaustion just hit me. I could barely keep my eyes open.  I had to cancel my plans for the evening.  I was pretty dissapointed - was so looking forward to going out clubbing with all my friends.  But I just couldn't do it, I needed sleep.

Today I haven't done much.  I was in town and did some shopping.  Helped out around the house.  Played the Sims3.  Just things to keep me distracted and not think about the next few days.

Tomorrow I'm driving down to London.  The day after tomorrow the trial starts.

Holy crap.

2 weeks

In exactly two weeks the trial will start.  I'm getting more and more nervous.  I'm worried about the defense lawyer interrogating me.  I'm worried the jury won't believe me and he'll get off.  I'm just worried.

I'm also angry.  There wasn't enough evidence to charge him with my rape, instead he's being charged for sexual abuse spanning 5 years.  It should be him that's worried about the trial, not me.  As a rape victim, my past will be put on trial, not his.  And I find that unbelievable.  It frustrates and angers me.  And it terrifies me.  What will the defense say?  That at at 12 years old I wanted it?  From what I've heard, this is exactly what the defense says.  And a lot of the time the jury believes them.

So yes, I'm terrified.  I'm also ill at the moment.  It is the worst possible time to be ill.  I need to have all my wits about me for the trial, I can't afford to be ill at the trial.  So off to the doctor's I go.  Let's hope that I'm better in a few weeks.

The trial is constantly on my mind.  Which means that what he did to me is constantly on my mind.  It's making me tired, scared and drained.  But I've found something else to take my mind off it.  I'm hosting a murder mystery part on the Saturday after the trial for my birthday.  I'm throwing myself in to organising it, as it helps to take my mind off it.  It also gives me something to look forward to.  I'm dreading the trial, but I'm looking forward to my party.

And I know that no matter what happens at the trial, no matter what the results are (which I should find out on the Friday), I'm going to have a great party and have fun.  I'm going to move on with my life, and I'm going to enjoy my life.

He took my innocence and my childhood.  I'll be damned if he's taking the rest of my life as well.

29 days

The trial starts on the 19th November.  29 days from now.  I'm dreading it and want it to be over.  I've been having a lot of nightmares recently as well.  I think the closer the trial gets, the more difficulty I'll have sleeping.  Which isn't great, considering I have enough trouble sleeping as it is!

I'm dreading going on the stand and giving evidence.  I'm dreading being cross-examined by the defense.  I know that I will be put on trial, not him.  (That makes sense, right?  I mean, if someone was robbed then the victim would definitely be put on trial, not the robber...)  Anyway.

There is some good news though - the university has granted me my concession!  This means that I can start year 2 again in October 2013.  Fantastic news.  I had been quite worried that they would tell me that I would have to start from first year, or that I had to drop out altogether.  Can't fault my uni - they've been amazing.  Am SO pleased I can go back next year.

Even though I'm not at university, I've been going back to visit my friends.  I don't live to far, so it's easy enough to travel down to see them.  I definitely miss the social side of being at university, but I know that there is no way that I could be studying right now.  I really wanted to, I didn't want to take another year out. But it really is for the best - hopefully in a year's time I'll have managed to put this behind me and really be able to focus on my studying.

Next Tuesday one of the colleges at university will be showing the documentary "I Never Said Yes" in the evening.  It looks to be a very good documentary, with the reporter interviewing rape victims as well as those in authority about how the system is failing rape victims.  I think it will be difficult to watch, but I'm also looking forward to it.  I hope it's good - and I hope people turn up to see it.

Court house

Yesterday I went to the Crown Court.  I was met by my police liason officer and a woman from victim support.  They showed me around, told me what to expect, and answered my questions.

I've seen the court room - not what I expected it to look like at all.  I blame it on watching too much television.  I sat in the witness chair, which faces the jurors.  When I give my evidence, there will be a screen around me, so that the only people I will be able to see are the jurors, the lawyers, the judge and the note-takers.  I won't see him, or any members in the gallery.

At first I didn't want a screen.  But if I break down - and there's a strong chance I will - then I didn't want him to see me cry.   So I chose a screen.  Steps have also been made so that I don't run in to him in the court house.  I will enter the building through a side entrence and be taken to a waiting room, where my police liason officer will be.  This waiting room is for witnesses and victims, through doors that you can only enter if you have the code.  When I give my evidence, I will be the first one led in and the last one out - so I will not have to lay eyes on him.

I've asked my parents not to sit there whilst I give evidence.  I don't think I would be able to speak about it if I knew that they were sitting there, listening.  It would make me uncomfortable.  It's not something a parent should ever have to hear.  I need to be able to give my evidence without worrying about how it's affecting someone else.  In this instance, I need to be selfish.  I can't worry about them - I need to worry about getting through the defence's questioning.  My parents have been extremely understanding - I know they want to be there to support me, and I know it will be hard on them, but they've agreed.

I won't be alone though, even though I won't be able to see her, as I will be behind a screen, my Aunt will be there.  And I know someone else will be as well, looking down on me from above.

In all honesty, I haven't given the trial much thought at all.  I've had other things on my mind, as I mentioned in my previous post.  As the time gets closer, it will probably weigh on my mind more,  but right now, I am heartbroken and trying to cope with the death of a much loved one.  I miss her, and the pain of losing her hasn't decreased even slightly.  It makes anything and everything else pale in comparison.

Grief

I haven't written in here for a while. I haven't had the energy. I still don't. Someone extremely close to me passed away last month. I haven't been able to think about what's happening with the trial.

I'm going down to London this month to have a look at where the trial will be held. My Mum is coming with me. My liason officer suggested it would be a good idea, so that I don't feel overwhelmed when I'm on the stand in a strange place. He is going to talk me through the procedure.

I've been having quite a few nightmares.

It looks like I won't be going back to university. The uni have said that since the trial will be in November, I won't be able to focus on uni work. Which is fair enough. At first I was dissapointed - I'm desperate to graduate. But the more I think about it, the more I'm glad about it.

These past few months have been a blur. I feel numb. Apart from my nightmares, I haven't given the court case (and all the things that go with it) a second thought.

This entry isn't very long, I just don't have the energy to go in depth. I thought being sexually abused for 5 years and raped was the worst thing that could happen to me. Turns out I was wrong.

His plea

Normally, writing in here helps to keep me calm. It gives me the opportunity to sort through my thoughts and speak my mind. However, since I found out what my rapist is pleading, I've been feeling extremely deflated and haven't had the energy to write in here.

I found out on Wednesday that he has pleaded 'not guilty' to all accounts - including those charges where the evidence is rock solid. I honestly didn't expect him to plead not guilty to all 43 charges. So, we're definitely going to trial. A trial date has also been set, and arrangements have been made for me to visit the courthouse and the courtroom before the trial starts.

So, how do I feel about this? Shocked. Angry. Tired. Empty. I had always thought that he would plead guilty to the charges where the evidence is overwhelming, and not guilty to my charges. Now there is a chance - a tiny chance, but a chance nonetheless - that he could be found not guilty on all charges, and he could walk. In which case, this has all been for nothing.

Except, I must remember, it hasn't been for nothing. The people in his life have been made aware of the kind of person he is. He is now on the police radar. And I will face him - no longer is he a monster I my nightmares, but a man. A man that no longer has any control over me.

I will be honest - I am absolutely dreading the trial. I have heard so many horror stories about what the defence puts rape victims through on the stand. Instead of putting him on trial, my character and sexual history will be put on trial. I am dreading being interrogated by his lawyer. But, I know I am strong enough to handle it. I know I will probably break down and cry on the stand (something which I am not looking forward to) but it will not destroy me. I'm ready. Terrified, but ready.

I wish it was all over. I want to enjoy the few remaining weeks of university, I want to spend time with my friends. I want to enjoy the summer balls. I want to have fun, and not worry about facing the man that abused me for 5 years.

I will be behind a curtain, so he can't see me and I can't see him. Part of me is relieved. But part of me wants to see him. The last time I saw him was when he raped me. I have only ever seen him when he abused me. I would like to see him in a setting where I am safe, where he can't hurt me and where I can show him that he has no power over me. Maybe one day. I agreed with the decision to give my testimony from behind a curtain, because I know it would take a lot out of me to see him. But one day, I do want to see him, to prove to him and to myself that I am the stronger one. I want to see him so that every time I close my eyes I don't see his face when he's finished raping me.

So, yes. This week has been tough. I went home to gather my thoughts and get some much needed TLC. But, I am now ready to go back to university and enjoy the last couple of weeks with my friends. I'll be damned if I'm going to let him stop me from having fun.

Worn out

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

It's horrible.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life

So he has been charged with over 40 offences. Some of them of those offences are for what he did to me (the childhood sexual abuse, not the rape).

Depending on what he pleads, there will most likely be a trial. He could plead not guitly to all of them, in which case there will be a trial. He could plead guilty to some and not guilty to others, in which case there will be a trial. Or he could plead guilty to all of them, in which case there won't be a trial and he would probably get a lesser sentence. He has between 2-3 months to decide.

Two or three months before I know what will happen. It is possible, even likely, that the trial would then happen in the summer. It's a long wait. It is difficult to live with all of this uncertainty. I do feel like I can't completely move on with my life, not until all of this is over, whatever the outcome may be.

However, I am moving forward with my life. It may always be at the back of my mind, but I am continuing with my life. I am at university. Soon I will have to decide what to do my dissertation on. I will have exams soon. I'm going on holiday with a friend at Easter. I have a social life. I am doing good.

This wasn't always the case - even as little as a few months ago I was locking myself away, avoiding my friends. I needed to be alone, to process what was happening. I couldn't face people - I didn't want to pretend to be alright, I didn't want to plaster on a fake smile. So I avoided most of my friends and became a recluse for a few weeks.

Luckily I have some pretty amazing friends, and they didn't stand for that. After all, a friend is someone who is there in the good times and the bad. With their help - and certain friends in particular - I managed to figure a few things out and I realised that I didn't want to be a recluse.

I like life. Yes, it is hard. Sometimes it seems impossibly difficult. Sometimes it seemed like the hits kept coming and I had no time to recover from the last hit, let alone deal with the latest one. But that's what life is. It's a rollercoaster with ups and downs. And my friends and family are on the that rollercoaster with me - there's no point trying to go through life alone. All you can do is enjoy the ups together, and comfort and be there for the downs.

But I am grateful to be alive. I am grateful to be living my life, with all of its ups and downs.

And slowly, so slowly, I am healing.

I prayed for him at church on Sunday. I wasn't planning on doing that. But while we were praying, it just seemed right to pray for him. It felt like the right time.

Afterwards, I realised that I had just taken the first step in forgiving him. I still have a long way to go. I don't forgive him for what he did, not yet. But I've taken the first step towards forgiveness. And it feels good. I feel good. I feel like I have let go of some the hatred that I have towards him, and I feel lighter, happier.

I still have a long, long way to go. But for now, life is good.

Another interview

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Back to reality

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

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

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

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

It was amazing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Me

A long wait

The police contacted me today. They told me that because of the riots, my case has been put on hold. They need all the man-power possible to gather evidence and convict the rioters. I can completely understand that - the public needs to feel safe and secure, they need to see that these criminals are dealt with.

However, just because I understand it, doesn't mean I like it. I was told that they'll pick my case back up in January. The trial (if they decide there's enough evidence) will be held around June. That's a hell of a long wait. I had been told that it will all be over by December, instead I've been told I'll have to wait almost a whole year.

My parents think that it's a good thing, as it means that the trial will happen after my exams. I don't feel that way. I want it over with. Instead, I now have to live with another year of uncertainty, of waiting. I want to be able to close the chapter on this part of my life. I don't want to constantly think, 'do they have enough evidence?' or 'what will the prosecution be like?' or 'I hope I don't cry on the stand'. I want it to be over.

Instead, I have another year for my imagination to run wild. I'm picturing the trial as you see it on TV; with a bored judge, a defender from hell and him, sneering and gloating at me. My mind is automatically conjuring up all the worst-case scenarios; not enough evidence to go to trial, the defence destroying me, him being found innocent, him being given only a caution. I now have another year to imagine what it will be like to see him face-to-face after all this time.

I have nightmares about seeing him in court, where no one believes me and he's seen as the victim, even while he's raping me in plain sight of everyone.

So no, I don't think it's a good thing that I have to wait another 10 months. I want it to be over. I don't want to be in limbo, I don't want to live with this uncertainty. I just want it to be over, one way or another. If they don't have enough evidence, I want them to tell me now. I want to know if we're going to court. If we are going to court, I want it happen sooner rather than later, so I can try and move on with my life and focus on the future.

How am I supposed to try and 'move on' with my life while I have this hanging over me for another 10 months? How am I supposed to focus on the future when my past is hanging over me like a black cloud, refusing to leave?

Me

Asking for it

Nothing gets me more angry than hearing people say someone was 'asking for it'. I don't care if a woman (or a guy for that matter) is walking around a dangerous neighbourhood at 3am completely naked. It shouldn't matter at all where a woman is, or what she is wearing. No means no.

But of course, I forget. Women shouldn't wear clothes that show skin, as that means they're asking to be raped.

Oh my God, she's wearing a bikini at a beach. She's asking to be raped.
Oh my God, it's a hot day and she's showing her midriff. She's asking to be raped.
Oh my God, she's at a club and wearing a skirt. She's asking to be raped.

To me, the phrase 'she was asking for it', is not only insulting towards to women, but to men as well. How is it insulting towards men? To me, it says the following:

As we all know, men are completely and utterly weak - they are a victim to their biological needs and urges. If women show flesh, then men are so overcome by their natural urges that they just can't resist, they must have sex with said woman right now. We women should know better - men are too weak to resist their biological instincts, therefore we must cover ourselves up completely so that we don't seduce a man to rape us. We musn't tempt men. Silly me, how could I forget?

So, not only does a woman ask to be brutally violeted, if she decides to report it she must face going through an interview - being asked to describe in detail what happened. 'Where was his hand then?' 'What did he say to you?' 'Where did he place your hand?' 'Did he put his fingers inside your vagina?'

You are forced to relive it in excruciating detail to a complete stranger. In my case the stranger was also male. Although he was a very nice man, it did not help to put me at ease.

It doesn't end there though. After being asked to be raped and describing everything in painful detail to a stranger, then comes the trial where you are forced to defend your innocence.

Victims of rape are put on trial instead of the rapist. Victims must prove their innocence, not the rapists. And unless you were a virgin when you were raped, then it was your fault. You've had sex before? Then clearly you weren't raped, you just had sex.

In my case, the police are still trying to find my rapist. I definitely want him to be found - but the prospect of a trial is extremely scary. I know it will be me that is put on trial, not him. They will paint me in a bad picture. It won't matter that he was my first - it will matter that I've slept with people since being raped. In the eyes of the court - I have slept with people willingly over the past few years, therefore I must have slept with my rapist willingly.

Oh wait... he started grooming you when you were 12? You must have asked for it.

This is what it would be like if the victims of every crime were blamed in the trial.

“Mr. Smith, you were held up at gunpoint on the corner of 16th and Locust?”
“Yes.”
“Did you struggle with the robber?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“He was armed.”
“Then you made a conscious decision to comply with his demands rather than to resist?”
“Yes.”
“Did you scream? Cry out?”
“No. I was afraid.”
“I see. Have you ever been held up before?”
“No.”
“Have you ever given money away?”
“Yes, of course–”
“And did you do so willingly?”
“What are you getting at?”
“Well, let’s put it like this, Mr. Smith. You’ve given away money in the past–in fact, you have quite a reputation for philanthropy. How can we be sure that you weren’t contriving to have your money taken from you by force?”
“Listen, if I wanted–”
“Never mind. What time did this holdup take place, Mr. Smith?”
“About 11 p.m.”
“You were out on the streets at 11 p.m.? Doing what?”
“Just walking.”
“Just walking? You know it’s dangerous being out on the street that late at night. Weren’t you aware that you could have been held up?”
“I hadn’t thought about it.”
“What were you wearing at the time, Mr. Smith?”
“Let’s see. A suit. Yes, a suit.”
“In other words, Mr. Smith, you were walking around the streets late at night in a clothing that practically advertised the fact that you might be a good target for some easy money, isn’t that so? I mean, if we didn’t know better, Mr. Smith, we might even think you were asking for this to happen, mightn’t we?”
“Look, can’t we talk about the past history of the guy who did this to me?”
“I’m afraid not, Mr. Smith. I don’t think you would want to violate his rights, now, would you?"

Asking for it indeed.

Me