itchy trigger finger

I don’t know whether I’m just unfortunate when it comes to the fact that there is so much to launch my brain into triggers. Not helped by the fact that I was with the pig for almost 2 years before the rape. It surprised me how many things had triggered unwanted memories over the last year since abruptly stopping my sessions at the crisis centre. It wasn’t until I returned 6 weeks or so ago to re-register that it dawned on me the reasons for me feeling like I had unfinished business with them was because of the series of triggers I’d ignored, buried.

Anyway the last two days have been no exception. Yesterday I had a job about an hours drive away… driving roads I used to drive when the pig and I first got together, I shrugged off the first thoughts and memories, turned up the music and thought about something else, anything else. Then last night I had the weirdest dream, the pig was there, we were in a very odd nightclub scenario. I was wearing a white strappy dress, dancing whilst neon paint was being thrown about, I was thinking “hey this looks cool under the UV light” It was VERY dark, I was in fits of giggles and holding my husband’s hand rolling around laughing at what a fun time we were having. When he laughed back I realised it wasn’t my husband but the pig and freaked, let go of his hand. I can’t remember anything else.

So as I got up this morning for another job in a similar area and a solo drive there, guess what I thought about all the way there?! yup, the pig. I got quite upset on my own in the car, the car can be a dangerous place for over-thinking.

I’m going to put this out there…. I lied. I didn’t just lie, but I lied to the police. Bear in mind this happened over a decade ago and I was much naiver and frightened and… well, younger and not as smart! What the pig did to me was rape but I felt to blame. I returned his kiss and initial advances, until I realised what I was doing and that I didn’t want to do it. I said NO more times than I can count when he decided he was owed sex anyway and forced himself into me and wouldn’t get off. But I still lied to the police. I thought that they wouldn’t believe me if I had said what I just did above. What if I hadn’t been so scared that no-one would believe me?! would he have been prosecuted?! who knows. It’s my fault,I can’t change what I said.

I still have other blanks that my memory seems to have saved me from but anyway. I think that’s enough for tonight. I’m tired and need a vodka and a cry.

Proactiveness Prevails

I can’t believe how quickly the last 4 weeks have gone since I last posted. It’s funny how talking to no-one in particular out here in the t’internet is surprisingly cathartic. After my last post I decided to take action on my “self” and well-being, not to let this momentary blip affect me more than it needs to.

I called up the rape crisis centre and am back on the waiting list to return to my sessions with them. I had to go back in for an initial meeting and well… I literally spewed up 12 months of pain, some of which I didn’t even realise was there!! It wasn’t until I started to go back inside my own head to try and think why I have been feeling the way I have, that I realised how many triggers and memories have been happening over the last year that my conscious had shoved away to deal with at a later date. My subconscious reminding me that there is something wrong but not quite being able to put a finger on it. I cried a LOT… but do you know what it felt so good to be able to just talk to someone, someone that I didn’t feel like I was burdening. Not that I think any of my friends or family see me as a burden but, I’m just at this point now, where I’m sick of it being something I have to talk about with them. Having someone totally not linked to me to release it all was great!

When I left the crisis centre, I did actually feel like I was going to call my sister or a friend and that I would tell my husband about it afterwards… I still haven’t. I don’t know why.

I also went to see my doctor. I told her how I’ve been feeling, about my glumness and weight gain… which to be fair I think is in the most part due to me self-medicating myself alcohol when I feel shitty! Not a good idea folks. My disturbed sleeping patterns. Although I already knew what I needed to do on that part, having a doctor tell me to do it (and also being all pro-active and shit) gave me the kick up the bum I needed. I joined the gym. It’s not just about losing weight, it’s getting fit, it’s “me” time, getting out of the house and of course those all important endrophins our bodies’ natural pain and stress reliever! So now I am going regularly and feeling better inside and out.

Sleep! I can’t believe how much it’s improved, I’m still having the odd random nightmare linked to the pig or my past BUT I have been sleeping so much better, less night wakings, deeper sleeps. I urge you to try this technique http://www.byrdie.com/how-to-fall-asleep-fast it was doing the rounds on facebook and I decided to give it a try. It takes me longer than a minute of repeating this breathing but I’d say I’m mostly asleep within 5 minutes. When I’ve awoken in the night I do it again and POW back to sleep, whereas before I would lay awake for hours!

It’s still *there* that box and those things and once I am assigned a counsellor I will start talking and trying to overcome each section of it, big and small. I definitely do need to speak to my husband and preferably tonight as tomorrow we are going back to the village, the village we hot-footed it out of in November 2013 to get away from the pig. It’s one night and high percentage chance the pig may well be in the pub, I need to prepare him for the fact that although I am looking forward to our evening with friends, deep down I’m not ok and I will be thinking about it.

It doesn’t just go away

It doesn’t just go away does it?! I haven’t posted in over a year, a quick re-cap:

11.5 years ago I left an abusive, controlling, nasty boyfriend. He subsequently harassed me and wouldn’t accept that I could move on. This from the guy who made me feel worthless and ruined when I was with him, then he couldn’t let me be happy without him either. Then he raped me. 10 years later out of the blue he moved onto my street in my village… I couldn’t live with the fact he was there and it brought back too much pain so we moved.

I managed to pack up that little box in my brain and tape down the lid for a little while but it’s still there. The tape slowly peeling off every now and then. By all accounts the last year has been great, we bought a house and moved away from the pig. Initially I had regret, especially taking the kids away from friends but our new house is so lovely and bigger which is better for my business too. But I couldn’t help feeling like I was being selfish moving the whole family because of my issues.

We’ve all settled in really well and new friendships are being made. I stopped my sessions with the rape crisis centre pretty much straight after we moved. At the time I thought the move would make everything right again and it has improved no end, I also had problems with my youngest child that took to the forefront of my mind and worries and making her well and happy was more important to me than anything else (including my own mental health) so I just stopped. On reflection it maybe wasn’t the best idea.

I am basically burying it again rather than dealing with it. Our first Christmas in the new house I did all I could to avoid going back to the old village even though a close relative was inviting us over. Gradually over time I have managed to return to see the said relative and also take my children to see their friends and the feeling of immense anxiety & nausea has lessened each time. It does depend on my mood before hand, on whether I see his van or even him. I guess the reason I wanted to write a post again is because I am anxious again. I’m going over in 4 weeks to the local pub for dinner for the relative’s birthday. There is a high possibility the pig will be there. I didn’t think this bothered me too much given how much better I had got at going to the village now after a year of not living there. Until this morning, after confirming we’d be attending yesterday, today I feel sick and anxious.

I’ve stopped talking about it and no-one talks to me about it either. I don’t feel like I should be talking about it anymore, we moved away right?! surely I’m ok now. 70% of the time I’m fine and getting on well in life but there are still those reminders, granted not a daily reminder like having him live on the same street as me but still reminders. I’m sorry this is going to be a long post because I haven’t spoken out in such a long time. That unavoidable flicker in my brain, I’ve talked about it before.

Rape is in the news, on the TV, on the radio, on social media. It’s pretty hard to avoid the subject and in turn there’s that flicker. Not that I want to completely avoid it because I don’t. I think it’s good it’s spoken about, more needs to be voiced. My problem is I get these provocations and try to ignore them, I lift the lid on my box and throw them in and shut it as quick as I can. I think that has lead me to a build up of shit I just haven’t dealt with.

One thing that really struck chord with me was the programme on BBC “Murdered by my boyfriend” I recorded it in the summer and just left it there unwatched for ages until one day I had the strength to watch it. I wanted to watch it on my own too as I didn’t know how it would make me feel. Yes I know, I wasn’t murdered by my boyfriend, I’m still here and have a beautiful family. That girl in the programme however, that was me, that was my relationship with the pig. If someone had given me a tick sheet of the situations that occurred throughout it the only thing I wouldn’t have ticked is that I was killed oh and fortunately my son wasn’t the pigs child.

That’s not me or the pig. This is the couple from the programme.

Anyway, I think that’s probably enough for today’s post. Surprisingly I feel better having gotten this all off my chest to no-one in particular. I have learnt from writing this that maybe I should go back to the rape crisis centre and start up my sessions again.

They’re not all pigs, promise!

As I sat cuddled up to my husband last night on the sofa, I smiled. Not just a visible smile, but a smile on the inside too. I had a girly lunch date on friday and we were chatting about when we first met our other halves amongst many other things! And that moment last night when I looked at him and loved him still so much. We’d spent the weekend packing for our impending move, doesn’t sound all that romantic does it?! The excitement of the new house is bubbling away now, but that is not what made me smile. He did. Everything he does for me silently, effortlessly and without hesitation.

You see, I hated men when I met him. I had no desire to have a boyfriend ever again because of what had quite recently happened to me, being raped by my ex boyfriend. They scared me, repulsed me and well… I definitely didn’t want a relationship. So I wasn’t expecting what happened next, I met him at work and to be honest I just needed a little bit of flattering attention. Let’s face it we all need it even if our opinion of the opposite sex is rock bottom. For some reason attention makes you feel a touch more confident about yourself… that actually maybe you’re not completely damaged goods. But it was still nothing serious… WHO WAS I KIDDING! my friends laughed at me every time I said it was nothing serious and then would spend the rest of the night talking about him and smiling about him.

I soon began to realise, that this man was different. He respected me, he cared. He made me laugh and I liked to make him laugh too! suddenly life was feeling a lot easier to deal with. With the mistakes of staying with him even pre-rape, when he was abusive and nasty still raw in my mind, when he lived with me and my son, there was no way I was making that mistake again. I played my cards close to my chest and didn’t even introduce J to my son until I knew it was right. When I did introduce them, I was on cloud 9! I couldn’t have asked for more.

About another 4 weeks on from this, it all came crashing down momentarily. On my birthday he decided to text me. (to make this post a little easier to follow from now on I will refer to him as the pig.)  All of a sudden I had this evil monster from my past, encroaching on my happy present/future… how could he, everything was going so well. I was distraught, I felt sick. My Mum found me sobbing in my room, she asked me what was wrong and I told her I had decided to tell J about the pig. She held me tight and told me that J was a great person and I’ll know that when he doesn’t go anywhere when I tell him what happened, when he supports me through it instead of running a mile. She was right.

J and I have been together now for almost 10 years. He has supported me through everything, the good the bad and the ugly and I too have held him up in his times of need and laughed with him in our happy times. Anyone that says rape doesn’t affect you long term is delusional. When we started trying for our own baby I had a lot of worries and fears. No matter how amazing J was, you still can’t help but fear this will change at some point. Throw some irrational pregnancy hormones and hormone-fuelled, surreal and head-fucking nightmares into the mix and it’s anyone’s wonder why I wasn’t in a straight jacket! J was still there by my side regardless. When our baby finally arrived and I wanted so much to breast feed but couldn’t bear the though of having my body seen after 2 years of being told I’m disgusting and fat by the pig (incidentally I was tiny when I was with the pig!) The emotional torment was too much, but J still supported me and my decision.

Don’t get me wrong there have been times when he has said to me “I’m not your ex” when I’ve not trusted him enough, or when I am expecting him to do something bad (and he doesn’t) and I have always been over-protective of my son. I guess that’s maternal instinct and guilt. Guilt for exposing him to such a bad person as the pig. This does also affect my parenting, especially as J has been his father figure since the age of 4, I still feel protective.

But more recently, this June, the day I found out the pig had moved onto my street after not seeing him for almost 10 years. To say I was hysterical would be an understatement. I hadn’t smoked for 2 years but the first thing I requested of J was a packet of cigarettes and a bottle of wine and he just went and got them, no objections. We sat and smoked and drank, I cried and kept asking over and over “why”, “what are the chances” I didn’t know what I was going to do or what I needed to do. He said to me “we can move” he had no idea how we would but he was prepared to just say sod it we can make it happen. Initially I didn’t want to feel like I was running away so I wanted to see how it would be. I know I needed to feel J’s presence more now than ever. After talking, smoking, drinking and crying, I ran a bath and we both got in. J held me tight while I sobbed into the water. He didn’t need to ask me why, he just knew I needed to feel close and safe.

It didn’t stop there either, the next day he took the day off work and drove me to my emotional support session at the rape crisis centre. He waited outside until we asked him to come in, we talked through what we might do. Eventually we decided to confront the pig. The following evening we just went together and knocked on his door. No conversation was had, I just told him we lived here and to stay away from me and my family. It was the most nerve racking thing I’ve ever done but afterwards I felt great, empowered and with J by my side I could literally face anything.

Turns out, even after all this, living so close to the pig just makes me feel shit. It’s a daily reminder of an upsetting past. The nightmares started again. After a couple of months I finally said to J I couldn’t live here anymore and that’s when the house hunting began!

So that’s why, last night when I looked at my husband I smiled. I smiled because he will do anything for my happiness as would I for his. We packed up our house this weekend in preparation to move on Saturday. It’s the end of an era but the start of something new and exciting. Another proclamation of how strong our love is.

Not all men are pigs, some are kind, funny, loving, strong, safe and others are even insults to pigs.

Moral Responsibility

I’m not actually sure on where to start with this one. It’s been half term so I’ve been a little quiet on here, working and juggling being a super mum to my 2 amazing kids. This morning I read an article from earlier this week that actually left me speechless for some time. I was catching up on the news whilst laying in bed and decided to go and have a bath whilst I pondered what I had to say about it. Even the very act of bathing after reading the article shows how it made me feel. You can read the article, I’ve linked it above, I’m just going to go over it piece by piece and explain what true “Moral Responsibility” is.

“Some rape victims have a “moral responsibility” for their fate, a leading barrister has suggested.” 

Firstly I’d be interested to know which rape victims Barbara Hewson is pigeon-holing into this category? It’s just as offensive of the news reader that spoke of a particular “serious rape” all rape is serious and all rape is rape… it is the act of forcing someone to have sex against their will, without consent. No one rape victim is different from another, they all have this utter violation forced upon them, whether they are drunk, gay, sexually active, a prostitute, married, single, an 80 year old woman, a college student or a child… it is all rape and it is all 100% the responsibility & accountability of the perpetrator, no one else made it happen to them, it was not a choice that they, or I made.

“She also expressed doubts over the “long term damaging effects” of rape and criticised the view that the offence was “morally absolutely unambiguous” with the victim “utterly innocent” and the “victimiser … utterly guilty”.”

My first reaction to this is venom and anger, I want to shout and swear but I shall not. There is absolutely NO DOUBT over the long term damaging effects of rape. It affects even the strongest of women, forever. What does happen with time is that you find your voice, you understand your feelings and you can deal with it better. Time does not however make it go away. The article then expands on her comments on this one which just renders me so exasperated I’ve had to shut myself off in a quiet room to write this, otherwise it will be simmering underneath my surface for the rest of the day and I don’t want it to impact on my Sunday with my family!

“some rape victims spent too much time blaming failings in their personal and professional lives on their ordeals, adding: “It becomes the cause of everything that goes wrong in life.”

Do you know how hard it actually is to come back from a rape fighting?! I have been fortunate to have an amazing family, fantastic support network of friends and colleagues but not everyone is that fortunate. Whilst we’re on the subject of “Moral Responsibility” Barbara Hewson, let me tell you that you are morally responsible for the silencing of rape victims, you are morally responsible for it affecting their work and personal lives, YOU and anyone that agrees with the utter tripe you have spouted this week are responsible. When you are raped, you have something stolen from you that you cannot get back, it’s not just the violation of the act, it takes away your trust in human kind, your ability to feel safe, your self worth, self esteem and self belief. How can victims of rape believe in themselves again when people like you are blaming them.

This little nugget actually made me laugh in disbelief:

“It seems to me, simply factually, we all know if you’re drunk you are more likely to have accidents. So if you fall off a bar stool and hit you head and have a serous brain injury because you’re drunk people are gong to say well you chose to be drunk.”

First off, for a barrister, in this quote alone you have just insulted your own intelligence. Let me go back to the dictionary to spell this one out for you:

ac•ci•dent (ˈæk sɪ dənt)

n.

1. an undesirable or unfortunate happening that occurs unintentionally and usually results in injury, damage, or loss.

2. an incident that results in injury, in no way the fault of the victim, for which compensation or indemnity is legally sought.

3. any event that happens unexpectedly, without a deliberate plan or cause.

So you see, I would not blame the person that had fallen off their bar stool resulting in them having a serious brain injury because it was an accident. And lets just look back at the word MORAL. I was brought up with morals, I have strong morals about what is right and what is wrong, for instance if someone was left with brain damage after an accident I would not blame them for being drunk, it would not even cross my mind to think well what an idiot they shouldn’t have been drunk it’s their own fault…. because unlike you I have morals. Furthermore, likening the rape of someone who is intoxicated, to whatever degree, to falling of a stool by accident is disrespectful, shameful and ludicrous. Firstly an accident is just that, an accident. Rape however is not, it is the choice of the perpetrator and him alone. Let me just clarify that one more time… Rape is NOT an accident.

“So it does seem to me something a little sanitised about the idea that (when discussing rape) we cannot even have a discussion about the moral responsibility whatever people may want to say about the legal responsibility.”

Yes, oh yes we can discuss moral responsibility. The legal responsibility is completely and utterly with the rapist. The moral responsibility is with society, it’s with mother’s, father’s, teachers, politicians, and yes barristers. It’s a parent’s moral responsibility to teach their son’s not to rape, to openly talk to them about what is wrong and right when it comes to sex and consent. It is also the moral responsibility of teachers and politicians to teach our children about healthy sexual relationships  unfortunately this is another thing the government didn’t pass. We all have a social moral responsibility to say that rape is wrong and whilst people don’t, it is condoned, down-played, excused. You will do well to read and digest the content and watch the videos on my previous post Miss Hewson.

“Miss Hewson has also previously called for the age of consent to be lowered to 13 and criticised the “witch-hunt” of ageing celebrities accused of sexual abuse.”

There is only one thing to say on this, and that is you disgust me. You are a disgrace to womankind and humankind. Your attention seeking propaganda is just that. YOU should be ashamed of yourself, but I very much doubt you will be.

Rape Culture – The silencing of sufferers the world over

Today I am ANGRY and I’ll tell you why. Rape Culture… it’s silencing women time and time over. Because it’s ok to rape, if you’ve dated someone, it’s ok to rape if you were drunk, it’s ok to rape if you drug someone, it’s ok to rape if she was drunk. NO IT ISN’T! however if you read the news, hear how people talk or hear statements from actual law enforcement, this is the message they are giving to the world.

This week, in the news, we learnt of Cee Lo Green’s escape from a rape charge… because according to the LAPD, her story was “flawed” because she once dated him and had a previous sexual relationship with him. HOWEVER he is still being charged for drugging her without CONSENT… did you see that word? CONSENT? if she was drugged without consent, then how could she give consent to sex. She has no memory of what happened, other than waking up naked with him because he DRUGGED her! You can read more on this story here.

First up, let’s just obliterate the obvious myth there… YOU CAN BE RAPED by a previous boyfriend, you can be raped by someone you’ve slept with before and if you are under 16 years of age, drugged, asleep or unconscious you are incapable of giving consent in the eyes of  the law. Given that this woman was also unknowingly drugged that makes this even more sinister.

It is not ok, there is no grey area, rape is rape! There has also been a LOT of talk about the case in America of the two football players who raped a 16 year old girl while she was wasted, then posted pictures online and were both charged. But do you know what, when they were sentenced SHE got harassed and abused further by the community because they had pride in their football team. The community even tried to cover it up.

“Sons” – what can we teach them?

So what is rape culture? Here is the wikipedia definition:

Rape culture is a concept which links rape and sexual violence to the culture of a society and in which prevalent attitudes and practices normalize, excuse, tolerate, and even condone rape.

Examples of behaviors commonly associated with rape culture include victim blaming, sexual objectification, and trivializing rape. Rape culture has been used to model behavior within social groups, including prison systems and conflict areas wherewar rape is used as psychological warfare. Entire countries have also been alleged to be rape cultures.

Although the concept of rape culture is used in feminist academia, there is disagreement over what defines a rape culture and to what degree a given society meets the criteria to be considered a rape culture.

Rape culture has been observed to correlate with other social factors and behaviors. Research identifies correlation between rape myths, victim blaming and trivialization of rape with increased incidence of racism, homophobia, ageism, classism, religious intolerance and other forms of discrimination.

This is a great article that further explains what Rape Culture is “Rape Culture 101”

Whilst I’m on this subject, belittling rape is not ok. Jokes about rape are not ok. Whoever coined the term “Fraped” for Facebook (the act of writing on someone’s Facebook profile without their consent) should be vilified… it’s not cool people, stop saying it.

“You are too ugly to be raped”

As a mother of a son, I feel a responsibility to educate him on what is wrong and what is right with sex & rape. It’s not an easy subject, but that is why rape culture exists. “boys will be boys” let’s treat them to be true men, men with morals, men with compassion, men who understand that they cannot take what they want when they want it. Men who love, men that can be trusted, men who raise sons to do the same and daughters that can speak out and not be silenced.

To Protect Our Children, We Must Talk To Them About Rape – The Guardian

Mental Torture & Physical Pain

Last week I braved the decision to share my blog with my Mum, Sisters and closest friends. Two things happened. Firstly my friend sent me a message, after reading my “fight or flight” post. She explained that I probably didn’t remember but when I was sat on my bathroom floor, I actually phoned her. I am still utterly flabbergasted as I honestly can’t remember, there’s lots of gaps in my memory from shock. She said I was in a right state and she’s not surprised I don’t remember, but she’ll never forget, I described to her how I was crouched right down between the toilet and the wall, whispering to her. She even remembered me running the bath once I was sure he was gone.

The second thing to happen was a phone call from one of my sisters. She was upset at my pain and upset that she didn’t realise that he was so abusive towards me when we were together. You see I never told anyone at the time. I was duped into this world all on my own, where I didn’t want people to think badly of my boyfriend.

He never once punched me in the face, but I lost count of the amount of times I was thrown around the room, or had things thrown at me, pint glasses, remote controls. Heck I remember his alcoholic mother scooping me up off the floor at her house in the middle of the night after he’d physically thrown me out of his room because I was upset that he wouldn’t say those three little words back to me. I was a strong young woman, but this man got inside my head and fucked me up from the inside out. He manipulated and controlled me, physically and worse still mentally and emotionally. Do you know what, the emotional torture was actually worse than the physical. He broke me down until I felt worthless, “no-one else will want you”, “you’re fat” “you’re ugly” “you’re useless”. It was like he suffocated my soul with his words. I wasn’t me anymore.

They’re just a snippet of what I had to deal with, the refusal of recognition of being human, to wanting to feel loved was the worst. Making me feel like I couldn’t live without him but also making me the most miserable I’d ever been in my entire life. It didn’t just stop there either. He tormented my son, at the time he convinced me that my 2 year old was jealous of him, it wasn’t until I started my doubts in how I was living that I realised it was him that was jealous. He couldn’t stand that bond I had. When my son was just 2/3yrs old, he had him up by his throat. I didn’t witness it, but my tiny, helpless little child told me… I took him and I ran, I hid at my sister’s house (the one that didn’t know about all this). He phoned everyone he knew trying to find me. When I finally caved, he managed somehow to convince me that my son was lying, that he made it up, exaggerated. He would drive fast… as in 120mph to scare me and my son. Everything he did was to crush me and make me feel like I needed him.

I finally managed to stop it… there was a turning point when I realised that life shouldn’t and needn’t be like this anymore. So what if I was on my own for the rest of my life, it had to be better than this right?

I’d cried the most in my life in the 2 years that I was on and off with this man, it was time to reclaim my life, reclaim who I am, reclaim me. This didn’t sit well with Mr Controlling, he started to stalk me. He would phone me all the time, sit on my doorstep for ages, drive past my friends houses when I was there… repeatedly. He didn’t want me, but no-one else could have me either.

Rape was his final act of violation, his determinative deed of ruining me. But do you know what… I’m a fighter… and I’m winning. He taught me how NOT to be treated by another being. He can’t control me anymore. People like him should not exist, but they do. That’s why I’m sharing my story.

Trigger, Spark, Prompt, Provoke, Cause

I have felt super emotional this last week. Even more so with the impending exchange of contracts on our new house. I guess the feeling of not having to face living on the same street as my rapist is leaving me overwhelmed but also causing me to think about him, it & the past all the more.

I’m really not a fan of the word “Trigger”, I don’t know why, I suppose because it makes me feel weak, and I don’t like to feel weak. Because I am a bit of a control freak and it is something completely out of my control. However since he moved onto my street in June this year, life has been one big trigger. Seeing his house and knowing that he is there, his van or his car, sets off and unavoidable flicker in my brain EVERY SINGLE DAY. Before June this year, there would be occasional prompts in my life to remind me that I have all this buried in my brain, a song, a place, a smell, a nightmare, something on tv, a white van, his name, a person. It was ok though because it was only every so often after all these years. But now, now it’s like being punched in the face on a daily basis.

No matter how hard I try to keep myself occupied, it is without doubt on my mind each morning and the last thing I think of at night. I have this little cocktail or anger, resentment, frustration and sickness in my gut when I return home each day. Don’t get me wrong I am not walking around like some sort of lunatic with a raincloud over my head 24/7. I run my own business, have gorgeous children and an amazing husband. Not least I also have supportive friends, a fun social life and plenty of things that make me happy and far outweigh this dark, gloomy spot of shit. Recognising these emotions actually helps me feel better, when I try and lock them away that’s when I start turning into that irrational being I mentioned previously.

Last night at my counselling session at the Rape Crisis Centre I told my counsellor that I have been feeling really emotional this week. I have been close to tears on numerous (and quite random) occasions but also really busy with work and not sleeping all to well. I know in the run up to the move it’s just becoming overwhelming, not just the thought of not living here with him so close BUT, packing and finding lots of lovely memories as I go, some of which date back to that time when this all started. Letters from my best friend, support and love. Love letters and cards from my husband when we first got together. I was in a really bad place back then but he saw something in me still, he felt lucky to have found me, when in actual fact he was my saviour. I told her that I feel like I just need a really good cry, a release, to stop putting off embracing these emotions, happy and sad. So do you know what, I think today is the day I’m going to nurture those feelings and have a bloody good cry.

Fight or Flight

Last night as I lay in bed, not sleeping (this is a common occurrence!) I was thinking about our natural instincts to protect ourselves in danger, the two main categories being fight or flight, it’s in our genetic make up to do one of the two when faced with fear.

When I was young and very naive, talking early teens here, I remember knowing about rape and how I always said I’d scream like a banshee or kick him in the balls. However the only rape I understood at that age was of stranger rape, dark alley ways, late at night, walking on your own type rape. I think many people who haven’t been raped, probably think they’d react the same way, their “fight” instinct will kick in. Sadly it doesn’t often happen that way and in actual fact a lot in a way, although they might still be enduring the physical side of the rape, their brain has gone into flight mode… the only way they are going to get away from this unharmed is to wait until it’s over and then run like hell.

I thought back to my rape (another common occurrence whilst not sleeping). He wasn’t a stranger, he was an ex-boyfriend, I let him into my home. My 4 year old son was asleep in bed. I have only just come to terms with the fact that this wasn’t my fault. I fought and flew so to speak. After he raped me in my own living room, I fought him off, I ran straight up the stairs, and locked myself in the bathroom, where I sat in silence. He followed me upstairs. I was petrified what was going to happen next. I didn’t want my son to wake. I spent almost 2 years with this controlling, manipulating, abusive and aggressive person, I did not want to give him any reason for an outburst or attack. But I was scared as I sat on my bathroom floor, willing him in my mind to leave. Hoping like hell that my son would not wake up or worse still that he woke him up to get me out of the bathroom. After what seemed like eons he finally gave up trying to coax me out and I heard the front door shut. I sat in silence for a further 20 minutes or so until I was satisfied he’d actually gone. Then I ran the bath and got in.

I’m not sure how long I sat in the bath, once I got out, I dressed, lifted my son from his bed asleep and strapped him into the car and drove. I wasn’t sure where I was going to start with, I just wanted to get away, it was late, I felt unsafe, violated, stupid and masses of fear. I drove back to my hometown to a friend’s flat, where I spent the next 2 weeks, broken.

There is no right or wrong way to deal with what happens, you may have ideas in your head of how you will react to a situation but don’t judge others by this because in all seriousness, you will never, ever know, unless you are faced with this situation. Flight isn’t just about running away, it’s about surrendering for that moment for the greater good, it can be seen as giving up, but it’s not, it’s about survival. Fight isn’t just about fighting there and then, it’s not just about physically harming someone, but standing up for yourself if you are capable in that situation for the betterment of the outcome.

I’m still fighting.

Rape is rape, no sugarcoating it.

This blog so far has brought me solace I really wasn’t expecting, especially so soon after starting it. At the weekend I even plucked up the courage to share the blog in a parenting group I’ve been in for the last 8 years. All mother’s with children the same age, we’ve forged friendships over the internet talking privately with each other about our deepest darkest secrets, funny experiences, sad times, slummy mummy moments and well pretty much everything, we’ve all since met up and are very close friends. It dawned on me the one thing we haven’t talked about is rape. After a chilled evening, a couple of vodkas and chatting to them on Friday night, I decided to share my blog with them. I posted the link to the group of 30 and explained that I wasn’t looking for sympathy but that I wanted to share with them and talk about it.

The first to respond told me of a friend who recently opened up to her about a rape that happened 17 years ago, we chatted about it a bit, she said she wasn’t sure she handled it right, I offered advice based on my own feelings and she is going to get back in touch with her and chat to her more about it. I felt good to know that it had helped both her and hopefully her friend, knowing that she cared and understood.

Lots of responses followed that were all very heart warming and empowering, plus another lady who hinted that she too had been raped but changed her post to delete that bit but I had already seen it so talked to her about it and a 3rd lady told us all of when she was raped in her 20s but was high at the time so felt like she was to blame and couldn’t do anything about it. What I really wasn’t expecting was the respect and admiration towards me for doing this, the votes of confidence that this IS the right thing to do. I honestly thought most people would think I was mental writing about my rape experience on the internet!

With that in mind I also shared it with another group of women, a smaller group and again a similar response, a lady who’s sister was raped at 14 whilst walking her dog and a private message from another lady who was raped at 15 by an ex, she said she’s never dealt with it but because he was her ex she convinced herself that it was acceptable.

Although it is amazing to have all these women open up to me, and talking about rape openly is one of the main things I wanted from this blog, it scares the fuck out of me how many women are still blaming themselves so, so many years later. Society is a mess… it doesn’t like talking about rape and starts accusing the victim instead of dealing with how bad this is. It does not matter whether you openly invite a man into your house, whether it’s your husband, whether you were drunk, high or dressed in flesh revealing clothes, no man has the right to have sex with you without consent…. ever. When you say the word NO at any point during a date, encounter or whatever, you have clearly stated that you do not want to have sex, if he continues, it is rape. If you are asleep, unconscious or drugged, too scared to say say no, it’s still rape. No matter how he might try to sugar coat it into a mis-understanding, that he “knew” you really wanted it, that you led him on, that you asked for it, that it was “just sex” HE IS WRONG.

Take a look at this poster, sums it up really…