Seeing this was probably one of the first and only things rape related that has put a smile to my face.
Wednesday, 14 November 2012
Sexual Assault Prevention Tips
This is such an amazing Sexual Assault prevention poster. I first saw it on Lizzie's blog but it originally comes from here.
Seeing this was probably one of the first and only things rape related that has put a smile to my face.
Seeing this was probably one of the first and only things rape related that has put a smile to my face.
Tuesday, 13 November 2012
His brother and me
His brother.
The one I went home and had consented sex with. I can't stop thinking about him. It's like I created this imaginary link between us that will always stay there. If none of this would have happened, I would have gone on my merry way home and probably never thought about him again, but now I can't stop thinking that he was the last person I had great sex with, and that I will never be with anyone again like that.
Maybe because he was the last person who touched me before I was violated.
I used to feel so guilty toward him. When they first told me he was arrested I just broke down into tears. I so badly didn't want him to think I had accused him of anything. Then thinking that he stayed in jail for a whole night before they could even question him, and tell him that he was not accused of anything by me.
But the police told me that he had to be arrested, that he was the only witness and that they needed his DNA to exclude him, as we had had consented sex earlier.
It's hard enough thinking that someone you had a one night stand with regrets it the next morning. But with him I keep thinking that he thinks it was the biggest mistake of his life to go home with me, and that I ruined his life. Even though it was all his brothers fault that he was arrested and had to sign in at the police station every day for more than 4 months.
I still remember the last time I saw him, and will probably never forget. It was the second time that I went to drive through Fulham with the police to identify the house. I had to get out of the car with my SOIT officer N and a detective to point out the exact door, and as I was pointing it out he looked out of the kitchen window and saw us standing there.
At that moment they ushered me back to the car and the police station. Moments later he was arrested.
It is so weird in this situation because it is not only me and the rapist involved. It is also his brother. It's like this weird threesome. I am sure that he doesnt believe me, and that hurts in a way that is so hard to explain. Of course he would take his brothers side. Maybe he wouldnt care anyway. Maybe that's what they normally do. One of them goes home with someone and then she is fair game to the other.
I will never know the answer to any of these questions. Especially now that they both fled back to Italy.
The one I went home and had consented sex with. I can't stop thinking about him. It's like I created this imaginary link between us that will always stay there. If none of this would have happened, I would have gone on my merry way home and probably never thought about him again, but now I can't stop thinking that he was the last person I had great sex with, and that I will never be with anyone again like that.
Maybe because he was the last person who touched me before I was violated.
I used to feel so guilty toward him. When they first told me he was arrested I just broke down into tears. I so badly didn't want him to think I had accused him of anything. Then thinking that he stayed in jail for a whole night before they could even question him, and tell him that he was not accused of anything by me.
But the police told me that he had to be arrested, that he was the only witness and that they needed his DNA to exclude him, as we had had consented sex earlier.
It's hard enough thinking that someone you had a one night stand with regrets it the next morning. But with him I keep thinking that he thinks it was the biggest mistake of his life to go home with me, and that I ruined his life. Even though it was all his brothers fault that he was arrested and had to sign in at the police station every day for more than 4 months.
I still remember the last time I saw him, and will probably never forget. It was the second time that I went to drive through Fulham with the police to identify the house. I had to get out of the car with my SOIT officer N and a detective to point out the exact door, and as I was pointing it out he looked out of the kitchen window and saw us standing there.
At that moment they ushered me back to the car and the police station. Moments later he was arrested.
It is so weird in this situation because it is not only me and the rapist involved. It is also his brother. It's like this weird threesome. I am sure that he doesnt believe me, and that hurts in a way that is so hard to explain. Of course he would take his brothers side. Maybe he wouldnt care anyway. Maybe that's what they normally do. One of them goes home with someone and then she is fair game to the other.
I will never know the answer to any of these questions. Especially now that they both fled back to Italy.
Potential rapists everywhere
When I look back now at the days and months that has past, I can barely associate with any of it.
It used to be so painful, now I just feel a numbing sadness pretty much all the time.
I know I have changed. I know he changed me. Into someone I don't want to be.
I no longer want to be with a man, though at the same time I so desperately want someone to feel safe with. Feel that someone cares. But how will I ever find that when I can't bare to think of letting anyone getting close to me. It's like I put up these barriers. The only time I can bare to let a man touch me is when I have had way too much alcohol, and barely even then.
I keep thinking any man can be a rapist. I see a potential rapist in anyone.
The man(or should I say boy) who raped me looks like this normal guy who goes out drinking with his buddies, and when I am in a bar I keep thinking that any of the men in there could have raped someone at some point.
When I think of him going out trying to be with girls it makes me sick, sick that they will never know what a monster he is, sick that they will never know what he is capable of. Sick that they might trust him, and willingly go home with him and willingly sleep with him.
And when I think of the fact that he just got away with it, it makes me even more sick.
I think that is what ruined me, the fact that I was holding on to the investigation, and when it went nowhere, I just broke. I was waiting for so long for the investigation to be finished, and all I was, was that investiation, and when that was over I was no one anymore. I still feel like I am no one anymore.
I keep wanting to be stronger than this, everyone told me I was being so strong. I think it was just because I was in this bubble where only I existed and I was able to just power through somehow.
I can't stop seeing his smiling face and I just want to avenge him so badly. I want him to hurt. Hurt as much as he hurt me. He probably doesnt even think about it anymore. He probably just lives this happy life back in Italy and here my life is just crumbling at my feet.
It used to be so painful, now I just feel a numbing sadness pretty much all the time.
I know I have changed. I know he changed me. Into someone I don't want to be.
I no longer want to be with a man, though at the same time I so desperately want someone to feel safe with. Feel that someone cares. But how will I ever find that when I can't bare to think of letting anyone getting close to me. It's like I put up these barriers. The only time I can bare to let a man touch me is when I have had way too much alcohol, and barely even then.
I keep thinking any man can be a rapist. I see a potential rapist in anyone.
The man(or should I say boy) who raped me looks like this normal guy who goes out drinking with his buddies, and when I am in a bar I keep thinking that any of the men in there could have raped someone at some point.
When I think of him going out trying to be with girls it makes me sick, sick that they will never know what a monster he is, sick that they will never know what he is capable of. Sick that they might trust him, and willingly go home with him and willingly sleep with him.
And when I think of the fact that he just got away with it, it makes me even more sick.
I think that is what ruined me, the fact that I was holding on to the investigation, and when it went nowhere, I just broke. I was waiting for so long for the investigation to be finished, and all I was, was that investiation, and when that was over I was no one anymore. I still feel like I am no one anymore.
I keep wanting to be stronger than this, everyone told me I was being so strong. I think it was just because I was in this bubble where only I existed and I was able to just power through somehow.
I can't stop seeing his smiling face and I just want to avenge him so badly. I want him to hurt. Hurt as much as he hurt me. He probably doesnt even think about it anymore. He probably just lives this happy life back in Italy and here my life is just crumbling at my feet.
The Forensic Examination
Forensic!
It's that kind of word that you hear on TV.
Never would I think that I would go through a forensic examination. Nor did I really know what it was.
But thanks to G, I now know.
My Soit officer who I shall refer to as N, picked me up in a car and drove me to the Sexual Assault referral centre in central London called the Haven.
Sleep deprived, food deprived, not showered we arrived after battling London morning traffic.
Me and N walked in and sat in a small room with a nurse.
Whilst sipping my coffee (by the way, I realised that coffee was something that held me together for the first days, maybe even months) the nurse explained the procedures, what would happen during the next 4 or so hours. I think through the first entire week I was in a bubble of not really believing anything around me was actually happening. Everything felt pretty distant.
Once the doctor had taken the statement from the police, she read it out to me, so again I had to hear my story from someone elses view. Then we went through it again together, so I told her my story of evens, filled in any gaps. Filled out many different paperworks and then we were all set to go. First they swabbed my hands and fingernails for any DNA, then they swabbed my mouth and throat. Then it was time to get naked and into a gown, so they could examine my body from head to toe and take swabs and looks for any bruises or injuries, that they then marked down on a piece of paper.
After that, time to lie down on the scary chair and spead your legs. They took DNA with long swabs from places where long DNA swabs should not be. In and around and poking about in both holes.
The only thing that makes me feel better about this experience, was that I was in a nice safe environment with nice ladies, whilst he had to give DNA by getting his penis swabbed in a prison cell by police officers.
All in all, I felt relatively good at the Haven, all the nurses and doctors were absolutely great. Made you feel so safe and good. They really felt caring. And they do provide excellent after-care also.
After that ordeal was over and done, harder times was still to come. Just after, we had to drive around the area of Fulham where it happened, to see if I could identify the place. More on that later.
It's that kind of word that you hear on TV.
Never would I think that I would go through a forensic examination. Nor did I really know what it was.
But thanks to G, I now know.
My Soit officer who I shall refer to as N, picked me up in a car and drove me to the Sexual Assault referral centre in central London called the Haven.
Sleep deprived, food deprived, not showered we arrived after battling London morning traffic.
Me and N walked in and sat in a small room with a nurse.
Whilst sipping my coffee (by the way, I realised that coffee was something that held me together for the first days, maybe even months) the nurse explained the procedures, what would happen during the next 4 or so hours. I think through the first entire week I was in a bubble of not really believing anything around me was actually happening. Everything felt pretty distant.
Once the doctor had taken the statement from the police, she read it out to me, so again I had to hear my story from someone elses view. Then we went through it again together, so I told her my story of evens, filled in any gaps. Filled out many different paperworks and then we were all set to go. First they swabbed my hands and fingernails for any DNA, then they swabbed my mouth and throat. Then it was time to get naked and into a gown, so they could examine my body from head to toe and take swabs and looks for any bruises or injuries, that they then marked down on a piece of paper.
After that, time to lie down on the scary chair and spead your legs. They took DNA with long swabs from places where long DNA swabs should not be. In and around and poking about in both holes.
The only thing that makes me feel better about this experience, was that I was in a nice safe environment with nice ladies, whilst he had to give DNA by getting his penis swabbed in a prison cell by police officers.
All in all, I felt relatively good at the Haven, all the nurses and doctors were absolutely great. Made you feel so safe and good. They really felt caring. And they do provide excellent after-care also.
After that ordeal was over and done, harder times was still to come. Just after, we had to drive around the area of Fulham where it happened, to see if I could identify the place. More on that later.
You can go up but then you go down
Ok, I haven't really been posting anything. I have been writing mostly in my journal, so it has felt a bit like writing double really. Will try to write more here now.
Will start to say that I thought, honestly thought, not like those times when you feel ok for a moment, but actually thought I was great, and I was pretty much over it.
Then I found out that my contract is not getting extended. Because I have had to much absence this year. Even though they know it was because of the rape.
So basically he has taken everything from me now. He has taken a piece of me, he has taken friends, family, he has now also taken what mattered to me the most, and what helped me come back; my job.
Went downhill again from there.
I went away on holiday which was great, but I made the stupid mistake of bringing my journal, because apparently the customs guards need to read them in case they find something dodgy in there. So the customs guard at Heathrow starts reading my journal where I wrote about my rape from the first page. I can't explain the feeling of standing there watching him read my personal pages that no one has ever read. Words I wrote only for myself.
After that I realised that I am definitely not still over it. And I have no idea when I will be.
It has been almost 9 months since that Italian scumbag felt the need to stick his dick somewhere it didnt belong, but it still feels like yesterday, even though at the same time it feels so far away in a distant world, that none of it happened. Like it was all just a bad dream.
Will start to say that I thought, honestly thought, not like those times when you feel ok for a moment, but actually thought I was great, and I was pretty much over it.
Then I found out that my contract is not getting extended. Because I have had to much absence this year. Even though they know it was because of the rape.
So basically he has taken everything from me now. He has taken a piece of me, he has taken friends, family, he has now also taken what mattered to me the most, and what helped me come back; my job.
Went downhill again from there.
I went away on holiday which was great, but I made the stupid mistake of bringing my journal, because apparently the customs guards need to read them in case they find something dodgy in there. So the customs guard at Heathrow starts reading my journal where I wrote about my rape from the first page. I can't explain the feeling of standing there watching him read my personal pages that no one has ever read. Words I wrote only for myself.
After that I realised that I am definitely not still over it. And I have no idea when I will be.
It has been almost 9 months since that Italian scumbag felt the need to stick his dick somewhere it didnt belong, but it still feels like yesterday, even though at the same time it feels so far away in a distant world, that none of it happened. Like it was all just a bad dream.
Thursday, 26 July 2012
mental issues
I was talking to a friend the other day, about how seriously sick G must be.
What kind of a sick man:
1. Thinks it's ok to have sex with a girl his brother just had sex with
2. Thinks it's ok to have sex with her while his brother is sleeping in the bed
3. Thinks it's ok to have sex with her while SHE is sleeping
4. Thinks it's ok to rape a stranger in his brothers bed
In a way I feel for you G, cause you have some serious mental problems.
Actually no, I don't feel for you. I hate you, so much. You have ruined my life. You have changed me forever.
I would not wish on anyone what you did to me, except maybe on you.
What kind of a sick man:
1. Thinks it's ok to have sex with a girl his brother just had sex with
2. Thinks it's ok to have sex with her while his brother is sleeping in the bed
3. Thinks it's ok to have sex with her while SHE is sleeping
4. Thinks it's ok to rape a stranger in his brothers bed
In a way I feel for you G, cause you have some serious mental problems.
Actually no, I don't feel for you. I hate you, so much. You have ruined my life. You have changed me forever.
I would not wish on anyone what you did to me, except maybe on you.
Tuesday, 24 July 2012
G is free
It has been such a long time. I just couldn't write for a long time. Everything was too much.
Now everything is over. The police decided not to send the case to the CPS, because the coward answered 'no comment' to every single question asked by the police. Only a guilty man says that. That mixed with the fact they didnt find any DNA from him meant there was insufficient evidence for a trial.
So the asshole is walking free again. Able to do what he wants to.
Dear G!
You will always know what you did! You will always know you are guilty! You will always know what a stronzo you are!
You will have to be ashamed forever. I hope your family is ashamed of you.
You truly are a sick excuse for a man!
Congratulations for getting away with it! And thanks for ruining me.
Now everything is over. The police decided not to send the case to the CPS, because the coward answered 'no comment' to every single question asked by the police. Only a guilty man says that. That mixed with the fact they didnt find any DNA from him meant there was insufficient evidence for a trial.
So the asshole is walking free again. Able to do what he wants to.
Dear G!
You will always know what you did! You will always know you are guilty! You will always know what a stronzo you are!
You will have to be ashamed forever. I hope your family is ashamed of you.
You truly are a sick excuse for a man!
Congratulations for getting away with it! And thanks for ruining me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)