My Police liason officer (PLO) contacted me yesterday. He said that they brought 'the suspect' in for more questioning but that he refused to even say one word. So the police have made an appointment with the CPS (Criminal Prosecution Service). It takes 4 weeks to get an appointment. They will then present all the evidence they have to them. It will then take a further 4 weeks for the CPS to decide whether there's enough evidence to take him to trial or not.
So that's 8 weeks in total, which means I'll know by mid-November.
However, I've decided I'm going to ignore the timetable that the police keep giving me. It keeps changing! First I was told I would know by mid-summer whether it would go trial or not. Then it was going to be early in 2012. Now it's mid-November.
Wondering when I'll find out whether there will be a trial and when that trial will be is stressing me out. So I'm going to try and stop myself from thinking about it. I know it won't work, but all this wondering isn't doing me any good. All I can think about is 'when will I know?'
This waiting game is horrible. All this wondering. So I'm going to do my best not to think about it, until I know for definite.
I doubt it will work, but still, I have to try. I need to live my life, not sit there wondering what's going to happen.
Me
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Wednesday, 7 September 2011
Why?
I wonder about him sometimes. I wonder about what happened to him to turn him in to the man that he is. What causes a man to find children attractive? What causes a man to be so selfish that he thinks nothing of destroying innocence?
True, when he raped me I was 17. I was hardly a child. But the abuse started long before that. He sought me out as a child, he found me attractive as a child. I was a child. I was 12 years old - how can a man be attracted to a 12 year old?
I try to forget what happened between those years of meeting him and him raping me. Sometimes it's easier to think of the rape, than the years of abuse. It's difficult to think that not only am I a 'rape victim' (or 'rape survivor') but I am also a victim of child sexual abuse. Sometimes the weight of that weighs heavily. It's difficult to think about my childhood, because the abuse was interlinked with almost everything.
Don't get me wrong, the rape was horrible. It was devastating. Not just because he was my first, but because I knew then that I had no control of my body, that people are capable of taking with no regard for others. Those few hours haunt me, and I don't think I will ever quite 'get over it'.
But he tainted every part of my childhood. I have happy memories of my childhood, of course I do. But at the edge of every happy memory, he is lurking.
And I wonder, what made him become so evil? What made him not care that he was hurting me? I know people are selfish, I understand that. But what makes someone so selfish that they can abuse and hurt another human being for years? What makes someone so cold that they don't care about the damage that they are causing?
This man is a father himself. I think that's what gets to me the most. He has a daughter. How can he hurt someone else's child the way he did, when he would lay his life down for his own child?
What went through his mind as he was hurting me? Or did I just truly not matter to him at all. Was I completely inconsequential to him? Did I not even register as human to him?
I want to know why he did it. Because the answer that he is a pedophile just isn't enough.
Me
True, when he raped me I was 17. I was hardly a child. But the abuse started long before that. He sought me out as a child, he found me attractive as a child. I was a child. I was 12 years old - how can a man be attracted to a 12 year old?
I try to forget what happened between those years of meeting him and him raping me. Sometimes it's easier to think of the rape, than the years of abuse. It's difficult to think that not only am I a 'rape victim' (or 'rape survivor') but I am also a victim of child sexual abuse. Sometimes the weight of that weighs heavily. It's difficult to think about my childhood, because the abuse was interlinked with almost everything.
Don't get me wrong, the rape was horrible. It was devastating. Not just because he was my first, but because I knew then that I had no control of my body, that people are capable of taking with no regard for others. Those few hours haunt me, and I don't think I will ever quite 'get over it'.
But he tainted every part of my childhood. I have happy memories of my childhood, of course I do. But at the edge of every happy memory, he is lurking.
And I wonder, what made him become so evil? What made him not care that he was hurting me? I know people are selfish, I understand that. But what makes someone so selfish that they can abuse and hurt another human being for years? What makes someone so cold that they don't care about the damage that they are causing?
This man is a father himself. I think that's what gets to me the most. He has a daughter. How can he hurt someone else's child the way he did, when he would lay his life down for his own child?
What went through his mind as he was hurting me? Or did I just truly not matter to him at all. Was I completely inconsequential to him? Did I not even register as human to him?
I want to know why he did it. Because the answer that he is a pedophile just isn't enough.
Me
Sunday, 4 September 2011
Insomnia
I am currently on holiday and using my mobile phone to update my blog. Ah, the wonders of the modern world. I do apologise for any spelling mistakes - using the keypad on my phone isn't the easiest of things.
It's currently gone 3am where I am. I can't sleep. He keeps popping in to my head just as I'm drifting to sleep. This of course makes me jerk awake. So, sleep is impossible. What can I do instead?
Not much. The friend that I'm staying with is asleep in the next room, with no door between our rooms. So watching TV is out of the question. Before you suggest watching it with no sound; I'm in Finland, any subtitles that a show will have is in Finnish. I do not speak or read Finnish. Besides, I doubt there's anything interesting on at this time of the morning anyway.
So TV is out of the question. As is using her laptop to browse the net - it's password protected. So no laptop. What about reading? I've just finished the only book I brought with me. Besides, the light would probably wake her up.
As you can see, there's not much I can do to distract myself. I'll have to stop using my phone to go online soon as well, as it will be costing me a fortune.
It seems that I'm stuck with nothing but unwelcome memories tonight.
I just want to sleep. I'm meant to be up reasonably early tomorrow to do touristy things with my friend. I'm going to be absolutely exhausted. Great.
Why won't my past stop haunting me? Why won't it let me enjoy these few days I have with my friend?
I just want to sleep. Can't he leave me alone for one weekend? He's taken so much from me already, why does the memory of him have to take this weekend as well?
Me
It's currently gone 3am where I am. I can't sleep. He keeps popping in to my head just as I'm drifting to sleep. This of course makes me jerk awake. So, sleep is impossible. What can I do instead?
Not much. The friend that I'm staying with is asleep in the next room, with no door between our rooms. So watching TV is out of the question. Before you suggest watching it with no sound; I'm in Finland, any subtitles that a show will have is in Finnish. I do not speak or read Finnish. Besides, I doubt there's anything interesting on at this time of the morning anyway.
So TV is out of the question. As is using her laptop to browse the net - it's password protected. So no laptop. What about reading? I've just finished the only book I brought with me. Besides, the light would probably wake her up.
As you can see, there's not much I can do to distract myself. I'll have to stop using my phone to go online soon as well, as it will be costing me a fortune.
It seems that I'm stuck with nothing but unwelcome memories tonight.
I just want to sleep. I'm meant to be up reasonably early tomorrow to do touristy things with my friend. I'm going to be absolutely exhausted. Great.
Why won't my past stop haunting me? Why won't it let me enjoy these few days I have with my friend?
I just want to sleep. Can't he leave me alone for one weekend? He's taken so much from me already, why does the memory of him have to take this weekend as well?
Me
Thursday, 1 September 2011
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
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
Thursday, 25 August 2011
Clothes = healing?
Not long ago, I was having a conversation with a friend. This friend told me, in no uncertain terms, that I should be over my past by now. I was told that I was obviously stuck in a rut, that I had surrendered to my misery and I needed help to get out of it and to get over everything. This person then said that she knew exactly how to heal me. By taking me clothes shopping.
Yes, you read that correctly. Clothes shopping. Apparently, buying new clothes would help me, as a childhood abuse and rape victim, to 'get over it'. I was told that I have no taste in clothes, that I lack style and that my lack of style makes me unnatractive. She told me not to worry though - it's understandable that I want to be unnatractive, given what has happened to me. But it's really about time to move on. So I need to go out and buy clothes that make me stand out from the crowd, that make a statement about myself. And being the wonderful person that she is, she will help me with my fashion sense. In letting her make me over, I'll be halfway there to 'getting over it'. Clothes will, apparently, make me heal.
I am so glad that someone has finally told me what I need to do in order to 'move on'. Buy new clothes and make myself attractive. Wow, I never knew it was so easy! Just imagine, I'll no longer have to work through and come to terms with all the years of abuse, denial, pain, anger, insecurity, fear etc. No, instead, all I need to do is buy new clothes!
As you may have guessed by now, I have many, many issues with this. I don't even know where to start. There are so many things wrong with what she said to me.
Firstly - don't you dare trivialise what I went through. Suggesting that something that has changed and shaped me so monumentally can be 'undone' by a simpe shopping trip is insulting. I can't even begin to describe how belittling and undermining that is. You are basically telling me that what I went through is nothing, that it shouldn't have had this much impact on me. I'm still trying to grasp the extent to which this has affected me, but I know it's more than a simple shopping trip can 'fix'. I'm sure my past has affected me in ways I can't even begin to imagine. However, I'm slowly finding out just how much of an impact this has had on my life. It has skewed my perception of what a healthy sexual relationship should be like. It has almost destroyed my faith in men. It made me fall in to a pit of dispair. It has left me with scars (physically and emotionally) that will never quite go away; they may fade, but they will always be there. So don't you dare try and tell me that what I went through is no big deal, that it is of no significance and is inconsequential. You have no idea how much this has affected me. But there's one thing that you can be sure of, and that is that a shopping trip will not 'fix' this.
Secondly - there is no time frame to recovering. Everyone recovers at a different pace. I suffered through years of sexual abuse. I suffered through rape. Then I spent the next few years living in denial and trying to bury something that was desperate to surface, something that was screaming to be brought out in to the open. I only let it out a few months ago. Over 10 years worth of buried emotions have just been allowed to surface. It's going to take me a hell of a lot longer than a few months to sift through them all. I'm not going to wake up tomorrow and think; 'Oh, it's been a few months now, I better be over this by now'. It's going to take a long, long time for me to work through everything. You rushing me is not helping; in fact, it's making it worse. Not only do I need to focus on working through everything, I now also have to worry about working to someone else's expected time frame. Will people think I'm weak or a drama queen if I haven't reached "step 5 of the grieving process" by tomorrow? Back off and let me heal in my own time.
Thirdly - who gave you the right to judge me? I am not, as you may think, stuck in a rut. I have not surrendered to my misery. In fact, I'm fighting it with every piece of strength I have. I was completely and utterly stripped to the core. It felt like I was left completely and utterly broken, cowering in a cave of despair. You have no idea just how much I am working to come out at the other side, to start to live again and see the beauty in life again. Yet you judge me, saying I'm just a misery guts. You are completely ignoring just how far I have come, how much work I have put in to putting myself back together. Don't you dare belittle all the hard work that I have done - and am still doing - to get my life back on track. I am working damn hard at finding my inner peace, at finding my happiness. So don't you tell me that I'm not working hard enough, or that I'm not working at all, because you have no idea just how hard I'm working.
Fourthly - I may never 'be over it'. It's not like it's the flu - I can't just rest a lot and take medicine and then be better in a couple of days. I won't suddenly forget what happened. In a sense, I will never 'get over it'. The memories will always remain. However, what I hope will happen is that I will find a way to live with it. I'm trying extremely hard to get to the place where I can live with it, but I don't think I will ever 'be over it'.
And finally - I'm sorry that my fashion sense isn't up to your standard. You find me unnatractive? Surprisingly enough, it's not the end of my world that you're not attracted to me. In fact, it may shock you, but I just don't care what you think of my style. I am not, nor will I ever be, a 'girly-girl' or 'chic'. That's not who I am. I am most comfortable in jeans and a tshirt, not an expensive skirt with a designer belt and a cute top. I am me, and I am - finally - getting to be comfortable with who I am. I will never be a fashion designer. I have absolutely no idea what the latest 'in thing' is. And I don't really care either. You may not like what I wear, but I do. I'm not pretending to be someone I'm not. I'm just me. I wear what I want to, depending on my mood on that particular day. Sometimes I dress in what you may call 'goth' wear. Sometimes I wear what you may call 'girl next door'. Sometimes I wear what you might call 'tom-boy', or 'urban', or 'butch' and yes, sometimes even 'girly'. You may not like that I don't just stick to one sort of style, or you may not like the style I wear most days. But you know what? Tough.
Right, that's my little rant over! I just had to get that off my chest.
Me
Yes, you read that correctly. Clothes shopping. Apparently, buying new clothes would help me, as a childhood abuse and rape victim, to 'get over it'. I was told that I have no taste in clothes, that I lack style and that my lack of style makes me unnatractive. She told me not to worry though - it's understandable that I want to be unnatractive, given what has happened to me. But it's really about time to move on. So I need to go out and buy clothes that make me stand out from the crowd, that make a statement about myself. And being the wonderful person that she is, she will help me with my fashion sense. In letting her make me over, I'll be halfway there to 'getting over it'. Clothes will, apparently, make me heal.
I am so glad that someone has finally told me what I need to do in order to 'move on'. Buy new clothes and make myself attractive. Wow, I never knew it was so easy! Just imagine, I'll no longer have to work through and come to terms with all the years of abuse, denial, pain, anger, insecurity, fear etc. No, instead, all I need to do is buy new clothes!
As you may have guessed by now, I have many, many issues with this. I don't even know where to start. There are so many things wrong with what she said to me.
Firstly - don't you dare trivialise what I went through. Suggesting that something that has changed and shaped me so monumentally can be 'undone' by a simpe shopping trip is insulting. I can't even begin to describe how belittling and undermining that is. You are basically telling me that what I went through is nothing, that it shouldn't have had this much impact on me. I'm still trying to grasp the extent to which this has affected me, but I know it's more than a simple shopping trip can 'fix'. I'm sure my past has affected me in ways I can't even begin to imagine. However, I'm slowly finding out just how much of an impact this has had on my life. It has skewed my perception of what a healthy sexual relationship should be like. It has almost destroyed my faith in men. It made me fall in to a pit of dispair. It has left me with scars (physically and emotionally) that will never quite go away; they may fade, but they will always be there. So don't you dare try and tell me that what I went through is no big deal, that it is of no significance and is inconsequential. You have no idea how much this has affected me. But there's one thing that you can be sure of, and that is that a shopping trip will not 'fix' this.
Secondly - there is no time frame to recovering. Everyone recovers at a different pace. I suffered through years of sexual abuse. I suffered through rape. Then I spent the next few years living in denial and trying to bury something that was desperate to surface, something that was screaming to be brought out in to the open. I only let it out a few months ago. Over 10 years worth of buried emotions have just been allowed to surface. It's going to take me a hell of a lot longer than a few months to sift through them all. I'm not going to wake up tomorrow and think; 'Oh, it's been a few months now, I better be over this by now'. It's going to take a long, long time for me to work through everything. You rushing me is not helping; in fact, it's making it worse. Not only do I need to focus on working through everything, I now also have to worry about working to someone else's expected time frame. Will people think I'm weak or a drama queen if I haven't reached "step 5 of the grieving process" by tomorrow? Back off and let me heal in my own time.
Thirdly - who gave you the right to judge me? I am not, as you may think, stuck in a rut. I have not surrendered to my misery. In fact, I'm fighting it with every piece of strength I have. I was completely and utterly stripped to the core. It felt like I was left completely and utterly broken, cowering in a cave of despair. You have no idea just how much I am working to come out at the other side, to start to live again and see the beauty in life again. Yet you judge me, saying I'm just a misery guts. You are completely ignoring just how far I have come, how much work I have put in to putting myself back together. Don't you dare belittle all the hard work that I have done - and am still doing - to get my life back on track. I am working damn hard at finding my inner peace, at finding my happiness. So don't you tell me that I'm not working hard enough, or that I'm not working at all, because you have no idea just how hard I'm working.
Fourthly - I may never 'be over it'. It's not like it's the flu - I can't just rest a lot and take medicine and then be better in a couple of days. I won't suddenly forget what happened. In a sense, I will never 'get over it'. The memories will always remain. However, what I hope will happen is that I will find a way to live with it. I'm trying extremely hard to get to the place where I can live with it, but I don't think I will ever 'be over it'.
And finally - I'm sorry that my fashion sense isn't up to your standard. You find me unnatractive? Surprisingly enough, it's not the end of my world that you're not attracted to me. In fact, it may shock you, but I just don't care what you think of my style. I am not, nor will I ever be, a 'girly-girl' or 'chic'. That's not who I am. I am most comfortable in jeans and a tshirt, not an expensive skirt with a designer belt and a cute top. I am me, and I am - finally - getting to be comfortable with who I am. I will never be a fashion designer. I have absolutely no idea what the latest 'in thing' is. And I don't really care either. You may not like what I wear, but I do. I'm not pretending to be someone I'm not. I'm just me. I wear what I want to, depending on my mood on that particular day. Sometimes I dress in what you may call 'goth' wear. Sometimes I wear what you may call 'girl next door'. Sometimes I wear what you might call 'tom-boy', or 'urban', or 'butch' and yes, sometimes even 'girly'. You may not like that I don't just stick to one sort of style, or you may not like the style I wear most days. But you know what? Tough.
Right, that's my little rant over! I just had to get that off my chest.
Me
Sunday, 14 August 2011
Fear
When you've been raped, or assaulted, it changes your whole world. You always knew that the world can be a dangerous place and that you should be careful. But (everyone always says this, I know), you never think it will happen to you. You never think that someone - someone you know, or a complete stranger - will hurt you.
So when it does happen, it turns your world upside down. You realise what a horrible and dangerous place this world can be. You realise that there people out there that don't think twice about hurting you. Suddenly, every place you visit has the possibility of being dangerous. Every person you meet could possibly hurt you.
Being so close to danger makes you think about your own immortality and vulnerability. The world isn't a safe place, someone could come at you any minute and hurt you again. Actually realising that, knowing that, shakes you to the core. Being powerless to stop yourself from being violated and hurt, knowing that there is nothing you can do, that you are at the mercy of someone else - there are no words to describe that feeling. Everything you knew about the world dissappears and is replaced with the knowledge that your body, your life, isn't always yours to control.
And that is terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.
After the rape happened, I tried to block it out. I tried to pretend it didn't happen. I tried to act normal. Then I went to university and threw myself in to life there. I went to lectures, did my work and enjoyed student life. Then one night, the bubble I had tried to build around what had happened to me, burst. I was out clubbing with my friends when I managed to get seperated from them. I ended up dancing with this guy, another student, who then proceded to grope me. He had his hand around my wrist and wouldn't let me leave. His hands were all over my body, feeling me. I couldn't get away, and the people around me just ignored what was happening. I completely freaked out. Eventually, one of my friends found me again, and the man left. But I was shaken. I was close to tears and was completely and utterly terrified.
The first thing I did when I got back the halls of residence was have a shower. By being groped, all the pain, shame and fear of being abused and raped came flooding back to me. I broke down in tears, sobbing and shaking in the shower. Something then switched in my mind - no longer could I pretend everything was fine. Nothing was fine. I had been groomed and sexually assaulted as a child, raped as a teenager and forcibly felt-up as a student. The world was a horrible and dangerous place. I wasn't safe anymore. There was a potential threat everywhere.
I refused to leave my apartment at the halls of residence. I locked myself away - refusing to even go downstairs to check the mail. The only place I was safe was inside. If I tried to leave the flat, I ended up having a panic attack - breaking out in a cold sweat, shaking and gasping for breath. I couldn't bring myself to confront the world, it was just too dangerous.
Luckily, my friends and family were extremely supportive - though they couldn't understand what had made me develop this fear of the outside world. The staff at the university were also very supportive and allowed me to do everything online.
Eventually I came to a realisation; if I didn't do something now, I would develop full-blown agoraphobia and end up living my whole life indoors. I didn't want to leave the flat, but I knew I had to. So, after a month of not leaving my apartment, I started to go to counselling. It was terrifying. I was shaking with fear. The only thing stopping me from breaking down in the street crying, were two of my friends. They said that they wouldn't leave my side and that I would be okay. They took it in turn to walk me to my counselling session and wait for me. I honestly think that without them, I wouldn't have found the strength to leave the apartment.
Eventually, I was able to go to shops - but only if someone was with me. I started to venture out more and more. The breakthrough came when I was able to go down and get my mail - alone. Then when I was out with a friend, she went to the toilet, and I was able to stand there outside the toilets, by myself.
I was still absolutely terrified of the world, but I knew I couldn't live my life caged in.
I'm a lot better now, but there are still things I refuse to do. I refuse to walk anywhere alone at night. Even if it's twilight and the place I want to get to is 5 minutes away - I will not walk there alone. I will find someone to walk with me, or I will drive or take a taxi. If I'm going somewhere and I know I will be there for a while and it will be dark when I want to go home, I will drive there. One or two times I've walked alone in the dark - and I've always regretted it as I ended up working myself in to a right state; heart pounding, sweat dripping, adrenaline flowing etc. It's not worth getting myself in such a state.
People think I'm being lazy or weird - but I refuse to do it. This does mean that I sometimes miss out on social events, but I figure it's a small price to pay.
I still get frightened - a lot. Most people don't realise, as I can come across very confident and strong, but a part of me is still scared. No matter where I am, I always know where the nearest escape route is. If I'm walking around, alone, during the day, I always have my keys on hand, ready to defend myself. I try to always be aware of my surroundings and the people near me.
It also takes me time to trust people. I once trusted a man, and he ended up hurting me, badly. So I'm careful with who I trust. Once I trust someone, I will be at ease around them. It takes a lot to trust someone, but it also takes a lot to break that trust.
I know that there are horrible people out there. However, I know that most people are decent human beings that wouldn't dream of hurting anyone. That doesn't stop my fear though, but it is something I'm learning to control.
Maybe one day I'll be able to walk to the corner shop alone when it's twilight. But right now, that day is a long way away.
Me
So when it does happen, it turns your world upside down. You realise what a horrible and dangerous place this world can be. You realise that there people out there that don't think twice about hurting you. Suddenly, every place you visit has the possibility of being dangerous. Every person you meet could possibly hurt you.
Being so close to danger makes you think about your own immortality and vulnerability. The world isn't a safe place, someone could come at you any minute and hurt you again. Actually realising that, knowing that, shakes you to the core. Being powerless to stop yourself from being violated and hurt, knowing that there is nothing you can do, that you are at the mercy of someone else - there are no words to describe that feeling. Everything you knew about the world dissappears and is replaced with the knowledge that your body, your life, isn't always yours to control.
And that is terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.
After the rape happened, I tried to block it out. I tried to pretend it didn't happen. I tried to act normal. Then I went to university and threw myself in to life there. I went to lectures, did my work and enjoyed student life. Then one night, the bubble I had tried to build around what had happened to me, burst. I was out clubbing with my friends when I managed to get seperated from them. I ended up dancing with this guy, another student, who then proceded to grope me. He had his hand around my wrist and wouldn't let me leave. His hands were all over my body, feeling me. I couldn't get away, and the people around me just ignored what was happening. I completely freaked out. Eventually, one of my friends found me again, and the man left. But I was shaken. I was close to tears and was completely and utterly terrified.
The first thing I did when I got back the halls of residence was have a shower. By being groped, all the pain, shame and fear of being abused and raped came flooding back to me. I broke down in tears, sobbing and shaking in the shower. Something then switched in my mind - no longer could I pretend everything was fine. Nothing was fine. I had been groomed and sexually assaulted as a child, raped as a teenager and forcibly felt-up as a student. The world was a horrible and dangerous place. I wasn't safe anymore. There was a potential threat everywhere.
I refused to leave my apartment at the halls of residence. I locked myself away - refusing to even go downstairs to check the mail. The only place I was safe was inside. If I tried to leave the flat, I ended up having a panic attack - breaking out in a cold sweat, shaking and gasping for breath. I couldn't bring myself to confront the world, it was just too dangerous.
Luckily, my friends and family were extremely supportive - though they couldn't understand what had made me develop this fear of the outside world. The staff at the university were also very supportive and allowed me to do everything online.
Eventually I came to a realisation; if I didn't do something now, I would develop full-blown agoraphobia and end up living my whole life indoors. I didn't want to leave the flat, but I knew I had to. So, after a month of not leaving my apartment, I started to go to counselling. It was terrifying. I was shaking with fear. The only thing stopping me from breaking down in the street crying, were two of my friends. They said that they wouldn't leave my side and that I would be okay. They took it in turn to walk me to my counselling session and wait for me. I honestly think that without them, I wouldn't have found the strength to leave the apartment.
Eventually, I was able to go to shops - but only if someone was with me. I started to venture out more and more. The breakthrough came when I was able to go down and get my mail - alone. Then when I was out with a friend, she went to the toilet, and I was able to stand there outside the toilets, by myself.
I was still absolutely terrified of the world, but I knew I couldn't live my life caged in.
I'm a lot better now, but there are still things I refuse to do. I refuse to walk anywhere alone at night. Even if it's twilight and the place I want to get to is 5 minutes away - I will not walk there alone. I will find someone to walk with me, or I will drive or take a taxi. If I'm going somewhere and I know I will be there for a while and it will be dark when I want to go home, I will drive there. One or two times I've walked alone in the dark - and I've always regretted it as I ended up working myself in to a right state; heart pounding, sweat dripping, adrenaline flowing etc. It's not worth getting myself in such a state.
People think I'm being lazy or weird - but I refuse to do it. This does mean that I sometimes miss out on social events, but I figure it's a small price to pay.
I still get frightened - a lot. Most people don't realise, as I can come across very confident and strong, but a part of me is still scared. No matter where I am, I always know where the nearest escape route is. If I'm walking around, alone, during the day, I always have my keys on hand, ready to defend myself. I try to always be aware of my surroundings and the people near me.
It also takes me time to trust people. I once trusted a man, and he ended up hurting me, badly. So I'm careful with who I trust. Once I trust someone, I will be at ease around them. It takes a lot to trust someone, but it also takes a lot to break that trust.
I know that there are horrible people out there. However, I know that most people are decent human beings that wouldn't dream of hurting anyone. That doesn't stop my fear though, but it is something I'm learning to control.
Maybe one day I'll be able to walk to the corner shop alone when it's twilight. But right now, that day is a long way away.
Me
Saturday, 6 August 2011
Anger
I used to be filled with such anger, such rage, it was difficult to contain it. I was so angry at the world. It's hard to find words to describe my anger - no words seem strong enough. It wasn't just anger either; it was tinged with sadness. Sometimes I didn't know whether to scream or cry. I often did both.
Growing up, I couldn't understand why I always felt so angry. I thought there was something wrong with me. It took me years to realise and to admit to myself that I had been sexually abused and raped. Growing up, I hadn't realised what was happening to me. After all, I was a child - I didn't know what grooming meant, I didn't know what sexual exploitation meant. So how on earth could I apply those words to myself?
I didn't understand why I was so angry and upset. I would talk to him about it. He tried to soothe me, to calm me down. I felt like he was the only one that I could talk to, that could understand me. I didn't realise that he was the one that was creating my problems and using them to control me.
I thought he was my best friend, when in fact, he didn't care about me at all. All he cared about was himself and satisfying his urges. He knew exactly why I was feeling the way I did. He knew he was hurting me. He knew he was destroying my innocence. He just didn't care. The more angry and depressed I felt, the more I turned to him to help me and the worse I felt. It was a vicious circle that I wasn't even aware of.
Yet he knew exactly what he was doing. And he decided that the fall-out was worth it. He decided that my emotional, physical and sexual well-being were a small price to pay compared to the satisfaction he was getting. He knew that years in the future I would fall apart and he didn't care. I would be out of his life by then, so what did it matter to him? By the time that I crashed and burned, he would be long gone.
It is a difficult thing to realise; that you are less than nothing to someone. That you are worth less than something you would scrape off the bottom of your shoe.
I often wonder what my life would have been like had it not been for him. Would I have self harmed? Would I have suffered from bulimia? Would I have developed anxiety and suffered from panic attacks? Would I have purposfully made myself fat to try and make myself unnatractive? Would I have been so insecure about every aspect of myself? I believe the answer is a big, fat 'NO', but I will never know. He made sure of that.
Realising just what he has taken from me makes me so angry.
He decided that it was okay to try and destroy and break me. He had no right to change my life like that. He had no right to do what he did, but he did it anyway. So, I find myself filled with this rage. He took my childhood from me. I will never get that back.
But I'll be damned if I'll let him take my future from me.
Now I know why I was filled with so much anger. Now I understand my anger. And in understanding it, I can begin to move on. One day I will no longer feel this anger, but for now it is directed where it should be; not towards myself, but towards him. No longer will I punish myself for something that is not my fault. I have managed to break free from the self-destructive cycle that I had been caught in for so long. I am now growing and becoming strong. Yes, I am still angry and frustrated. Yes, I hate the man. But I will not let him take anything else from me. I am worth more, and he doesn't deserve my tears.
I don't know how long it will take for this wound to heal, but I know it's a hell of a lot better than it was a year ago. I am finding healthy ways to cope with my anger. The most important thing that I'm doing is talking about it. I am no longer letting it eat me up. I am giving my feelings a voice to be heard, so that they can say what they want and leave. I am taking back control of my life.
God, my family and my friends give me strength. They make me realise that I don't have to go through anything alone - they make me realise that I am loved. I am no longer scared by my anger, and my anger is no longer overwhelming.
I know an important part in letting go of my anger is to forgive. I also know that I'm not yet ready for this. I want to, it is something I am working towards, but at the moment I'm not in the right place. I just can't bring myself to forgive him for what he's done to me - yet. I know it will come, but at the minute I just can't do it. Instead, I am slowly letting go of my anger.
In the meantime, I am not letting him control my life anymore. I have stopped self harming. I haven't had a panic attack in a long time. I no longer make myself sick and I am losing weight. I am slowly taking my life back. I am facing my fears head on, and in doing so some of my demons are being conquered. I am becoming the person I imagine I would have been had he not been a part of my life. I am ro longer running away from myself - I am facing myself head on and I am becoming the person I want to be.
Me
Growing up, I couldn't understand why I always felt so angry. I thought there was something wrong with me. It took me years to realise and to admit to myself that I had been sexually abused and raped. Growing up, I hadn't realised what was happening to me. After all, I was a child - I didn't know what grooming meant, I didn't know what sexual exploitation meant. So how on earth could I apply those words to myself?
I didn't understand why I was so angry and upset. I would talk to him about it. He tried to soothe me, to calm me down. I felt like he was the only one that I could talk to, that could understand me. I didn't realise that he was the one that was creating my problems and using them to control me.
I thought he was my best friend, when in fact, he didn't care about me at all. All he cared about was himself and satisfying his urges. He knew exactly why I was feeling the way I did. He knew he was hurting me. He knew he was destroying my innocence. He just didn't care. The more angry and depressed I felt, the more I turned to him to help me and the worse I felt. It was a vicious circle that I wasn't even aware of.
Yet he knew exactly what he was doing. And he decided that the fall-out was worth it. He decided that my emotional, physical and sexual well-being were a small price to pay compared to the satisfaction he was getting. He knew that years in the future I would fall apart and he didn't care. I would be out of his life by then, so what did it matter to him? By the time that I crashed and burned, he would be long gone.
It is a difficult thing to realise; that you are less than nothing to someone. That you are worth less than something you would scrape off the bottom of your shoe.
I often wonder what my life would have been like had it not been for him. Would I have self harmed? Would I have suffered from bulimia? Would I have developed anxiety and suffered from panic attacks? Would I have purposfully made myself fat to try and make myself unnatractive? Would I have been so insecure about every aspect of myself? I believe the answer is a big, fat 'NO', but I will never know. He made sure of that.
Realising just what he has taken from me makes me so angry.
He decided that it was okay to try and destroy and break me. He had no right to change my life like that. He had no right to do what he did, but he did it anyway. So, I find myself filled with this rage. He took my childhood from me. I will never get that back.
But I'll be damned if I'll let him take my future from me.
Now I know why I was filled with so much anger. Now I understand my anger. And in understanding it, I can begin to move on. One day I will no longer feel this anger, but for now it is directed where it should be; not towards myself, but towards him. No longer will I punish myself for something that is not my fault. I have managed to break free from the self-destructive cycle that I had been caught in for so long. I am now growing and becoming strong. Yes, I am still angry and frustrated. Yes, I hate the man. But I will not let him take anything else from me. I am worth more, and he doesn't deserve my tears.
I don't know how long it will take for this wound to heal, but I know it's a hell of a lot better than it was a year ago. I am finding healthy ways to cope with my anger. The most important thing that I'm doing is talking about it. I am no longer letting it eat me up. I am giving my feelings a voice to be heard, so that they can say what they want and leave. I am taking back control of my life.
God, my family and my friends give me strength. They make me realise that I don't have to go through anything alone - they make me realise that I am loved. I am no longer scared by my anger, and my anger is no longer overwhelming.
I know an important part in letting go of my anger is to forgive. I also know that I'm not yet ready for this. I want to, it is something I am working towards, but at the moment I'm not in the right place. I just can't bring myself to forgive him for what he's done to me - yet. I know it will come, but at the minute I just can't do it. Instead, I am slowly letting go of my anger.
In the meantime, I am not letting him control my life anymore. I have stopped self harming. I haven't had a panic attack in a long time. I no longer make myself sick and I am losing weight. I am slowly taking my life back. I am facing my fears head on, and in doing so some of my demons are being conquered. I am becoming the person I imagine I would have been had he not been a part of my life. I am ro longer running away from myself - I am facing myself head on and I am becoming the person I want to be.
Me
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