Learning to love yourself

This in all honestly is something I can't ever remember doing and I can't ever imagine doing, and that is - loving myself. 

I don't think I've ever even just liked myself, I've never felt like a good person, I've always felt like a horrible, ugly, selfish, miserable person. And I'm sat here, crying, writing this, because I don't know how to change, I don't even know if I can change? 

I've always hated who I am, never feeling good enough or worthy, and I keep getting told that I've GOT to change but it terrifies me because I honestly don't know if I can, or how to even start trying, or where to start trying. 

Every now and then a tiny glimpse appears, and I think to myself that I'm doing ok, I might like that person, and as quickly as she appears, she vanishes again. Swallowed up and consumed by self loathing and pity, that huge black hole inside of me, the one that shows me how unworthy I am, how selfish and hateful I am. I kind of wish that I could change, but I honestly think I may never be able to, I simply cannot find one single thing to love, or even to like. I really do think I'm going to need a huge amount of help with this one, and I'm not entirely sure where to find that. X

Re-connecting

There is something strangely comforting about crying alone in an empty church. 

It's quite amazing because for me personally, this particular church holds some of my happiest memories (my wedding day, our vow renewals, the baptism of both my daughters, my confirmation and my daughters first holy communion) yet at the same time, this church (or just churches in general) also hold some of my most painful memories too. You see for so many years I associated and blamed church and religion for what T did. There was a point in my life, not all that many years ago either, where I physically was not able to walk into a church on my own, and the mere thought of walking through those doors alone into an empty church simply terrified me. 

I'm sat here now, alone, reflecting on those feelings, and I'm wondering how something which right here and now at this very moment in time, is such an immense source of comfort to me, could have ever ignited such fear inside of me. Where did that fear come from? And more importantly, where has it gone? 

Every now and then the building creaks, and although I'm aware of the noise, I'm not afraid of it, the silence is comforting, the creaks let me know that even though I'm alone, I'm not. I honestly don't think I could possibly hurt anymore than I've already been hurting anyway. 

I wonder, how many people have sat in this seat before me? Who were they, where did they come from, what were their stories, what brought them here? Sitting on the cold stone floor makes me wonder how many feet have trod this path before mine did? There are so many grooves and marks in the stones and in the wood, I just want to run my fingers over each and every one, tracing the paths of those who were here first, wondering what brought them here, who they were, what they did? Re-connecting with a part of myself that had somehow gotten lost recently. I have never felt so calm, so at home, I needed to just rethink, re-evaluate, realise what I'd lost and find it again. 

I needed to sit here and give my tears back to God, to figure out if and how I can bring myself back, to think about who I am and what I want and more importantly, what I need, in order to focus on the future and not the past. 

I've cried, I've smiled, I've apologised, I've sought inspiration, and I've thought. I know I'm confused right now, I'm not entirely sure what I want, or who I am, but being here, having this time to re-connect myself with church, with religion, with God, it's given me some ideas. 

I've always craved the quick fix to my problems, rushing into things like a tornado and often destroying myself a bit further in the process, now it's time to slow down, to think, carefully, only I can fix me, only I can take this journey, only I have the answers and its up to me to figure them out. X

Reporting a crime - Part II

This is the second half to my earlier blog post about reporting a crime. In the first blog I discussed what happened with T when I tried to report the rape to the police. This blog I want to focus on what happened with M. You see, that time I chose NOT to go to the police, I didn't report the rape and I made no attempt to press charges, and I want to use this post to explain some of my reasoning behind that decision. 

There was a staff party, and a large amount of alcohol was being consumed, I remember everything clearly up to a certain point and then things got sketchy and my memories of the night become blurry. I remember falling down some stairs and twisting my ankle, I remember getting off a coach in Liverpool, I remember needing my inhaler and starting to panic when I realised I didn't have it with me. The next thing I remember is waking up in the dark and trying to move, and realising I couldn't, because someone was on too of me, they were moving, I remember struggling to make sense of the situation and not having the ability to move my body the way I wanted to. I realised that someone was having sex with me, but I had no idea who it was or where I was. He suddenly moved, said "shit, someone's coming" and was gone, but hearing his voice I suddenly realised who he was. Then just like that, he was gone, and I must have passed out again. 

Next thing I knew, it was morning. I was on the floor in my mums best friends house. I had vague, fuzzy memories of someone on top of me, I remembered hearing M's voice and I knew that I'd had sex, I felt sore, I struggled to make sense of everything. 

It took me days to process all the thoughts in my head, I was so confused, I didn't know what to do. What if I had said yes but I just couldn't remember saying it? Was it still rape? I didn't know what to think. 

Phoning the police was never an option to me, I had no memories of what had happened, I wasn't sure if I'd consented, I really didn't think anyone would believe me to be perfectly honest. 

When I'd gone to the police with T, after hours and hours of questions they just told me to drop charges anyway, so even the police hadn't believed me. It just put me off even trying to do anything this time. I told someone I thought I could trust but they then told someone else, who told someone else and one person told me I was lying, M wasn't like that. So I just decided to keep quiet and figure out a way to deal with it myself. 

Except here I am, almost 14 years later still trying to figure out how to deal with it all. 

Reporting a crime?

This blog I want to focus on reporting the crime? Did you report the crime to the police? Why? If you chose not to report the crime to the police, then why not? 

There are so many reasons why a woman might choose NOT to report being raped to the police, in fact there are probably more reasons why women don't report the rape than there are reasons to report the crime. 

The first time I was sexually assaulted, I wasn't actually aware at that time that any kind of criminal offence had occurred     It was months later when I realised what had actually happened that day, it always kind of felt wrong, but at the time I was the 14 year old with the 18 year old boyfriend - it was kind of like a status symbol! I was with an older boy, a man, I had what a lot of girls my age wanted, and I was secretly pleased with this new found attention that it brought me, especially since before this I was a nothing, nobody ever really noticed me in the corner, blending into the background. The downside was that it all came at a price, I didn't tell anyone what had gone on, would they think I was a slut being just 14? Would they believe me? Girls had claimed to have done it before and people didn't believe them, what would make me any different? I just didn't want to brag about what I'd done, I didn't like it, I didn't enjoy it and I was so worried that people would tell me I was 'frigid' for feeling that way. So I said nothing. I ended the relationship and I said nothing at all to anyone, not until months later when in talking to a friend I kind of pieced together what had happened. By that point it was just too late to even think about going to the police really. 

Next time, when 'T' raped me, it shook my world, I didn't know who to tell, or what to say. Almost a year earlier I had slept with T, we didn't plan it, I had this thing for him, everyone knew it, I was happy at that time to consent, it felt right, I wanted to be with him. I guess I thought if I did this, maybe he would love me like I loved him?

Anyway fast forward 9 months, I had been in a relationship with someone else for 6 months, during that period of time, my relationship with T was entirely platonic, best of friends only. I'd only been a few weeks out of the relationship when T raped me, and I'm sure, that if he'd waited for me, if he'd just waited a bit longer, I probably would have happily been with him again. 

It's just that at that time, it was just a few weeks after the split and all I could think of was wanting my ex back, I'd found out that my ex was now with a very close friend of mine instead and I was devastated, I just wanted him back. That's the only reason I said no to T, I thought if I turned T down, then my ex would see how much I loved him and maybe change his mind about the split. 

It didn't work. Instead it shook me to the core, I knew what he'd done, I knew when it was happening what he was doing, I just didn't know who I could tell. My 3 best friends at the time,were T, my ex and his new girlfriend, they were the 3 people I would have been most likely to confide in, yet I felt betrayed by all 3. 

6 days later there was a party at T's house. If I refused to go then my group of friends would have found that really odd, so instead I forced myself to go and act normal, only it didn't work, I had a few drinks and I completely freaked out. I told my ex what had happened, he got really angry, he told my mum what had happened, my mum called the police and I suddenly found myself drunk and hysterical with my ex and 2 police officers giving a statement of what had happened 6 days earlier. I don't remember a lot of that night, I think the alcohol helped me block most of the memories. 

One of my friends mums went to confront T, before the police went to speak to him. He denied everything, he admitted we'd slept together but he denied it was rape, he claimed I had never once said 'don't do this'  or 'stop' as far as he was concerned, it was all fine. 

The next day the police came back to me, they asked more questions, had me go over and over that day so many times. Finally the police sat me down with my mum. They actually advised me NOT to press any charges against T, he had said that I'd consented and as a week had passed there was likely to be no forensic evidence left, so it was going to come down to my word against his in a courtroom. The police then went on to explain how it would go against me, that day 9 months earlier when we'd had sex willingly, that it would go against me that I'd come out of a sexual relationship just weeks earlier. They then explained that it would go in T's favour the fact that his dad was a vicar, that they lived in the rectory and attended regular church services. Basically the defence would  make me out to be a promiscuous teen whilst making T out to be a saint. The police advised at that point, that I retract my statement and don't press any charges. Of course I did exactly that, there was no way I could have stood up in a courtroom, whilst the defence tore strips off me and made me out to be some kind of whore. That would have hurt even more. I do often wonder though, if that statement I made that night is sat around in police archives somewhere? Or if its been destroyed by now? 

What did they take from me?

Today I've been thinking about what exactly T and M took from me when they raped me. 

The first thing I lost was trust, the ability to trust other people, the ability to trust myself, the ability to trust the decisions and choices I make, the ability to trust the decisions that others might make on my behalf. They say that breaking someone's trust is like breaking a mirror, you can do your best to pick up the pieces and put them back together again but it will never be the same as it was before. That is so very true, trust is one of the hardest things in the world to gain, yet one of the easiest things to loose at the same time. Once you've had your trust shattered the way that I had, you find yourself unable to function properly, you find yourself questioning every single decision you make right down to the clothes you wear and the way you act or speak. 

Another thing that is taken from you when you are raped, is your self-confidence. I lost what little self confidence I actually had to start with, you suddenly start to believe that it was your fault, that you caused the rapes, it was something you must have done, and when you believe that you are to blame and you don't trust yourself, you suddenly loose all your confidence. 

Things you would normally do without batting an eyelid, suddenly become huge issues; walking alone after dark, staying home on your own, going to a party. Even going to work or going about your daily life can be hugely difficult when your confidence is at an all time low and you feel like you hate yourself. 

Suddenly you find yourself feeling guilty and ashamed, sure that something you did must have caused this to happen to you, guilt is a killer. I know guilt isn't something that is taken from you, but the ability to function normally is something that is taken from you, and that is because of the guilt that you feel, if only the shame didn't keep you from telling people how you feel, then maybe the guilt would be easier to resolve? 

But the shameful feelings prevent you from telling people what has happened and by keeping quiet there is no one to tell you that it was NOT your fault, no one to explain to you that you weren't to blame and so you carry on feeling guilty and ashamed and the vicious cycle will continue until you are finally able to break it. 

The only positive to all of this is that although you lost a lot when you were raped, the things that were taken from you are actually replaceable, you can get them back, eventually, with a lot of effort and hard work, and the right people in your life, it actually is possible to trust again, both yourself and other people, you will one day feel confident again, and you will finally let go of the guilt, shame and blame. That day WILL come you just have to carry on fighting for it. X

Forgiving? A poem and response.

I was once told that you MUST forgive,

If you want to move on with your life. 

If you want to be rid of the pain from the past,

You must forgive those that caused you pain. 

To forgive, is that to forget? 

I can never forget; can I ever forgive? 

I don't think I want to do that,

Forgiving means that I accept what they did. 

Forgiving means,

That I no longer hold them responsible, 

That what they did, was not that bad, 

But it was bad, and they are responsible. 

I don't think I can ever forgive,

And I don't think that I want to. 

Does that mean that I can never move on? 

Does that mean that I will never forget?

One day in the future, 

Maybe I will know what to do, 

But right here and now, 

Forgiving and forgetting, is just not an option. 

I wrote this shortly before I learned a lesson in forgiveness, you see, it does not have to be a conscious decision to forgive. When I realised that if I had the chance to hurt my attackers, the way that they hurt me, and then watch them suffer. If I had that chance, if I had that choice, a simple yes or no answer and they would suffer like I have. Honestly - in all my heart of hearts, I wouldn't do it, I wouldn't wish the pain I've gone through in the past upon even my worst enemy. That's when I realised that by not wishing pain upon them, in my heart I had forgiven them for what they did. It doesn't me that I've forgotten, far from it, and it certainly doesn't mean that I accept what they did to me, I still struggle to come to terms with what they did to me, with what they took from me, but one day, I will find peace in the world. 

I am....... - a poem

I am.....

I am strong, now I see, 

I have the strength, to fight for me. 

I am brave, this I know,

Because now I'm ready to let you go. 

I am courageous, can't you see?

I have the courage to set me free. 

I am grateful, for each new day,

A new beginning is on its way. 

I am hopeful for a future bright:

I was blind to it, I now have sight. 

I am successful, for I survived. 

You've not beat me, I have thrived. 

I am proud, so proud to be me 

Proud that I'm able, to set myself free. 

I'm a fighter, I'll never give in. 

Of this I am certain, this battle I'll win. 

Look into my eyes now, what do you see? 

I am a woman,

I am me. 

Copyright EC x

This is a poem I wrote about surviving, please do not copy this work or claim it as your own. 

Support

Yesterday I learned a wonderful lesson in support and I wanted to share it with you. You see it was just any other normal day, we were heading up to the summer fair at our church, my mum was going, my sister, her family, my cousin and her family, it was going to be a fun day out. 

As we arrived I headed straight to the rectory with my youngest whilst my hubby headed into the fair with the 2 eldest to meet up with the others. At the rectory we were directed over to the fair instead and as we reached the gates I spotted my hubby rushing towards me. I wanted to go off to see everyone but he wanted to pull me over to a quiet corner to talk to me. By this point I'm puzzled, intrigued and also a little bit worried, wondering what on earth he needed to say to me that I needed to hear "out of the way". 

His words stunned me, "m's here, we wanted to pre-warn you, your mum told me I had to find you and tell you, are you going to be ok?" 

My heart sank to my feet, but I forced myself to lift my shoulders and act nonchalant as I replied to him "let's do this, I can't ruin today for the kids because of this" 

I won't say I wasn't scared and I won't say I wasn't worried, I was petrified, I felt sick, I wanted nothing more than to run away and hide. I don't even know what it is about seeing him that hurts me so much. All I think it is, is that seeing him forces me to relive memories over and over in my head. Like watching a horror film that terrifies you on replay and having no control over it. 

But knowing that my mum knew this would affect me and my hubby knew this would hurt me and they both did their best to protect me by pre-warning me of what I was facing gave me such comfort. They were a great force of strength for me because physically I came closer to M than I ever have since then, I didn't have my checkout for 'protection' instead I had my husband and my mum flanking each side of me and 'protecting' me. 

For the first while I just stood around, nervously scanning every inch of the crowd for his face, knowing I'd be confronted with it at some point during the day. Once I'd found him my eyes followed him for most of the day, simply because I needed to know where he was in proximity to where I was so I felt somewhat safe. 

When my sister arrived at the fair the first thing she said was "where is she, does she know, is she ok?" I was so touched by the genuine concern from the people I loved, and I guess if I hadn't shared my feelings with them over time then they might not have realised how yesterday would have affected me and I would have suffered in silence instead. 

Having the support of my family made the world of difference to me yesterday, they gave me the strength to get through a difficult day, I might have turned around and walked away had they not been there supporting me. 

I never realised how much it means to have that kind of support and I'm so grateful that they were there for me yesterday. X

Back clouds

For some reason, recently, I've been completely consumed by this awful blackness, this horrid mood, this constant urge to just cry all the time. I feel like I just can't be bothered doing anything, I don't see the point of getting up in the morning, I don't want to go out, I don't want to be around people asking constant questions. I just don't have the energy to face the world and smile at the moment. I know people just want to to tell me to simply snap out of it, man up, get over it, whatever. 

I wish it were simply that easy, don't people think if it were I would have done that already? Half of the problem is that I don't even know why I feel so low right now. There's rock bottom, there's 100ft of crap under rock bottom and then there's me, under that 100ft of crap :( 

I need to find a way out, motivation, positive thinking, something, anything, right now I'm desperately clutching at straws and its killing me slowly...

COMPLETE THESE... A writing exercise x

I am... Myself, I cannot be anyone other than me. 

I want... The ability to move away from the restrictions of the past. 

I wish... That I could do this 

I hate... That I've not been able to do this yet. 

I miss... Out on too much because I can't move on. 

I fear... That I'll never be able to let go. 

I hear... A little voice in my head telling me I cannot give up. 

I wonder... When I will finally conquer my demons?

I regret... Leaving it this long to try to deal with everything. 

I am not... Prepared to go down without a fight. 

I dance... When I think no ones looking

I sing... When I think no ones listening

I cry... When no one is there

I am not always... Going to to be held back like this 

I make with my hands... Bobbles and bows with pretty ribbon xx

I write... A blog and it really helps 

I confuse... Myself daily 

I need... To do this for myself 

I should... Start looking at why I feel this way 

I start... To cope and then loose it again

I finish... This journey with my head held high I hope.