Dear Diary,

I’m still having a tough time. Seem to be having quite a relapse with my depression. I thought it was getting under control. Guess I was wrong, but I suppose that’s to be expected. I’m not running away from my trauma anymore. I’m facing it. So I shouldn’t be surprised that most days it feels like a black cloud is hanging over me.

I don’t really know what I’m doing. I just know I’m not hiding from it. I’m accepting the pain. I know I need to face up to it, let it overwhelm me. I think I need to really feel it, let myself grieve, in order to be able to move forward properly.

At the same time, I know I can’t let my grief be everything there is in my life. I can’t think about it 24/7, I can’t allow myself to fall back into severe depression.

The other day I just lay in bed all day, didn’t do a thing, just lay in my bed staring at the ceiling. I cancelled all the appointments I had that day, including lip-reading, and just lay in my bed.

I can’t let this darkness be everything there is, but I also know I need to face it and not run away from it. It’s tough.

As I’ve mentioned, I’m so emotional at the minute. I killed a snail the other day. I trod on it by mistake and killed it. I ended up crying and feeling terrible – still feel awful about it. It was an accident. But I felt so guilty and just started crying. I do know that those tears weren’t really about the snail.

I read books that are sad and watch sad movies so I can cry. I can’t cry about my rape. I don’t know why, I just can’t seem to cry. I either feel tearful or numb, but I can’t seem to cry. But I know those tears need to come out somehow, so I read sad books, watch sad movies and the tears come. And while I feel bad about killing that snail (I’m a vegetarian, don’t even kill flies), I’m also aware that a lot of those feelings are about the rape, not the snail.

I’m seeing Jane on the 17th November. A long way away. I’m going to print off some of my latest diary entries and post them to her. I know this needs to be addressed. But I can’t bring myself to say it.

I have told a few people. But it takes a lot out of me to say those three words – I was raped. It’s extremely difficult to say. It’s easier to write, but still difficult.

I saw Lynsey today, she asked how I was, I said I was fine. I could have told her, she would have supported me. She would have held me and hugged me and been there for me. But I didn’t say how much I’ve been struggling recently.

Why? Why didn’t I say anything? Because it makes it more real, because I feel like I should have ‘dealt with it’ 5 years ago when it happened.

Anyway. It was nice seeing Lynsey. She’s not feeling great though. She’s in a lot of pain at the minute and has developed sores on her body. The doctors aren’t sure what they are, they figure they’re down to stress and generally being run down. She also thinks she has a partially collapsed lung (simple pneumothorax). She’s had it before and says it feels the same. She’s got an appointment next week to see the doctor.

I worry about her so much.

Went out on Friday night with Katie. It was her fiance’s birthday. Hadn’t met her before, but was invited to the party. I was going to cancel. Was feeling so down and just couldn’t be bothered. Wanted to stay in bed and do nothing.

Then I realised I can’t succumb to the depression. I can’t spend my entire life in bed and forget the world, as much as I want to.

So I went out, and had a nice time. Am glad I went.

I’m reading a book called ‘Cleo’ by a woman called Helen Brown. It’s an amazing book, a true story, about her life after the death of her eldest son, and how a tiny kitten, Cleo, manages to help heal the family. Anyway, there’s two paragraphs that just sprung out to me.

People persuade themselves they deserve easy lives, that being human makes us somehow exempt from pain. The theory works fine until we face the inevitable challenges. Our conditioning of denial in no way equips us to deal with the difficult times that not one of us escapes.

Cleo’s motto seemed to be: Life’s tough and that’s okay because life is also fantastic. Love it, live it – but don’t be fooled into thinking it’s not hars sometimes. Those who’ve survived periods of bleakness are often better at savouring good times and wise enough to understand that good times are actually great.

How true is that? I’m going through a rough patch right now. But that just means that in the future, I’ll recognise the good times as great times.

It’s almost 3.30am. I’m so tired, but am scared to fall asleep. Almost every night I’m having nightmares about rape or violence in general.

V

Dear Diary,

I can’t do this. I feel like I’m going crazy. I’m having so many nightmares about him. I don’t have any coping mechanisms in place. The slightest thing is making me cry. I need to do something. I need to take drugs. I need to drink. I need to cut. I need to have meaningless sex. I need to starve myself. I need binge and purge.

I can’t cope. I can’t do this. Almost every waking moment I see him.

I try to forget. I distract myself – watching movies, meeting friends. But I can’t do this.

Oh God, it hurts so much. This pain inside me. I need to numb it. It’s driving me crazy. It’s making me wreck.

He had no right to do that to me. To take what I wasn’t offering. He had no right.

I feel like he’s ruined me. He’s destroyed me.

I look at myself and just see this ugly creature. A shell. He turned me in to something disgusting.

Or was I disgusting, and he just let loose this monster that was hiding inside me.

This monster that needs to destroy itself.

I feel like I need to destroy myself. Destroy my body on the outside – by cutting. Destroy my body on the inside – by drinking, taking drugs. And destroy my mind – by meaningless sex.

Oh God.

I can’t do this. I can’t cope.

I just want to forget.

I was doing fine ignoring it, by pushing what happened to the back of my mind. I was doing fine, I was living.

I need to forget.

V

Dear Diary,

Things are quite tough at the minute. I’m feeling very emotional. Like I’m on an emotional roller coaster.

I’m not sleeping very well and have had several nightmares about him.

It’s been 5 years, and I’m still not over it. I wish I’d addressed my rape sooner, so that I could be living my life.

I went out clubbing last night, it was a friend’s birthday. Another friend told me about a girl that had been orally raped in a nightclub. She had fallen asleep and had woken up with a guy’s dick in her mouth. Some of my friends thought this was quite funny and didn’t think it was rape and that the girl was to blame.

Uhm, hello? It was rape.

That left me really pissed off with my friends and I just kept thinking of my rape, and why I never did tell anyone. Exactly for that reason – that it wouldn’t be taken seriously, that people would think it was my fault.

I was approached by two guys. They were quite attractive. I know I could have taken either home with me and had meaningless sex. I really wanted to. I was feeling so low and tearful. But I didn’t. It wouldn’t help at all.

My feelings are just all over the place and I don’t know what to do.

I’m seeing Jane, my psychologist, at the beginning of November. She doesn’t know about this. I’m going to write it down and show her.

I need to address this issue. I need to be able to move on.

In the meantime, I’m feeling really vulnerable, alone, scared and emotional.

*Sigh*

In other news. I was reading a magazine and they have a section that’s called ‘make a wish’, where you write in and say what wish you want to come true. So I wrote in, explained about Lynsey, everything that’s wrong with her, how she’s an amazing person, that would love to travel but can’t. I know it’s her wish to go on holiday with Stu. So I sent the wish in. I’m not telling Lynsey about it, because it probably won’t happen, but how amazing would that be? If the magazine paid for the holiday insurance on Lynsey and her and Stu got to go on holiday together? It would mean so much to Lynsey. Fingers crossed.

Jenny had a date last night. It went quite well and I think there’s going to be a second one. Am so pleased for her.

Can’t help feeling jealous though. I would love to have a boyfriend/girlfriend. But I know I can’t – not right now, while I’m an emotional wreck. It would be completely wrong and unfair on the other person. But I do want a partner, want to be with someone.

But then I think about Q and all he put me through – the cheating, the blackmail, the put downs etc. I never did tell you guys this, only told a few of my friends, but he was quite horrible to me near the end. He hit me in Amsterdam while he was tripping on shrooms. And he also wanted to act out my rape, he wanted to role-play it because it turned him down.

So I know a relationship is the last thing I need right now. If one presented itself I would probably run a mile. But I can’t help longing for one, to be loved.

V

Dear Diary,

I had a nightmare last night. About him. I dreamt my parents hired him to do things around the house. Not realising that he had raped me. That I had ever been raped. I dreamt I couldn’t get away from him, that he was always there, around the house. I became a nervous wreck. Then I woke up.

I’ve never really addressed the rape. It’s taken me so long to actually realise that yes, I was raped. A few of my friends know. None of my family do.

I think what happened has a lot to do with why I do the things I do. Take drugs, throw up, have meaningless sex, cut. These have all been things that I’ve used as coping mechanisms. I’ve kept what has happened a secret for so long, not really allowed myself to think about it. But the hurt needed to get out somehow.

I’ve turned over a new leaf this new academic year. I haven’t self-harmed, slept with anyone, thrown up or had sex. I haven’t done any of these things for months.

And now my past is finally catching up to me. Part of me wants to hide again, bury what happened and continue doing the things I always have to forget. But another part of me knows I have to address what happened to me. I can’t run from it forever. I need to face up to it.

I’m scared. Actually terrified. In the past, whenever the memory resurfaced I cut or binged or did the other things. And I’m so close to going out and finding someone to sleep with. Or get in touch with my dealer and druggie friends.

But I haven’t. I don’t know what to do.

I haven’t told Jane, my therapist, about it. Jenny, my housemate, says I should. I know I should. I know a lot of my problems stem from what happened. But it’s so hard to face up to.

Just writing the word ‘rape’ down is hard enough. Writing down that I’m a ‘rape victim’ is hard enough. Saying it is extremely difficult.

Jenny and Sarah were getting annoyed with me for always offering them lifts when it’s dark, for saying not to walk in secluded areas alone. They asked me why it’s such an issue, and I just blurted out ‘I was raped’. They’re now understanding. I don’t want what happened to me to happen to them.

I’m starting to tell people. I’m starting to face up to it.

And that is absolutely terrifying. I just want to forget. I want to continue to bury it.

I’m so scared.

V

Dear Diary,

My laptop has been at the shop for some repairs, so was using my Mum’s. Didn’t want to write in here and leave the link on hers.

I got accepted to learn lip-reading!! Yay!! It is so difficult to be accepted on that course. As DancingButterfly said, their criteria is ridiculous. But I got on, yay! First class is this Wednesday.

The uni made a mistake and put me on level 1 BSL course. So have been sorting that out. Luckily it all seems fine now. I start level 2 BSL tomorrow evening. Haven’t signed in so long… slightly nervous! Am gonna watch a BSL DVD that my former BSL teacher gave me to refresh my memory.

Had the procedure again on Friday. The first one was a failure – was in so much pain and the implant moved and I pulled it out by mistake. Am very happy to say that it went great the second time around. Hardly any pain – apart from the occasional cramping. Very happy about that.

Not much else to report really, things have been very quiet on this end.

Meeting Jessie for lunch tomorrow. Then driving to see Jane, my psychologist. My parents are going to be joining me for the second half of my session so that we can all talk about my volunteering and the issues surrounding that. And then in the evening I’ve got my BSL.

V

Dear Diary,

When I graduate from university I want to work in the judical system. I’m not entirely sure what part yet – be it working with the police, working with young offenders or working in a prison. But I know that is the area I want to work in.

So, I’ve been looking at volunteer opportunities. One of them is befriending women who are about to be released from prison.

Here is what it is:

Mentoring for Women Offenders

The opportunity

Volunteers will be linked with an offender and visit them whilst in prison. On discharge they may accompany them to their accommodation, or to appointments, for example with their probation officer, drugs worker or Jobcentre Plus. At other times you may meet socially for coffee and a chat.

The organisation
**** provides support to women leaving *** & ***, the volunteer may be required to accompany women to a range of appointments, for example, to their accommodation, to probation or to their drugs worker. Other contact can be sociable with the mentor and volunteer and women meeting for coffee etc.

Skills/Qualifications
Female volunteers should be approachable, non-judgemental, a good listener and be able to offer encouragement, when needed. They should also be genuine, honest, realistic and reliable. Access to their own transport is essential.

Now I think that would be perfect for me. Hard work. But rewarding. My parents on the other hand, think it is the worst possible thing for me to do. They say I will be taken for a ride. That I have no possible life experience to do this job.

It has caused a few heated arguements. They think this volunteer job will break me, that I am not strong enough to cope, that I’m naive and would be better off working with children.

I know it must be hard for them, as they don’t know half of the things I’ve gone through in my life. Not many people do. But I am not naive and I am not weak. I have been raped. I have been sexually assaulted. I’ve had issues with drugs, drink, self harm, eating disorders and other self-destructive behaviour. I’ve been in an abusive relationship (something which I never did write on here, but yes, near the end of our relationship, Q did hit me).

I know that life is hard and you have to fight to survive it. Now, I am lucky in that I have a great support system – I do not have any financial worries, I have some amazing friends and my parents love me.

I think this job would be amazing. I am not naive, I do not think it will be a walk in the park. It will be damn hard. But I believe I am strong enough to do this.

My parents do not. They think it will break me. They think that I will be placed with a 50 year old murderer that is getting out on parrol. I try explaining to them that volunteers are trained and paired with someone that would be mutually beneficial. It is more likely that I will be paired with someone that is 19 and has just served 6 months on a DUI or something.

They believe that if I do this I will be robbed, perhaps injured and that they will be robbed.

I believe this work is right. How can I convince them? Or am I being selfish?

V

Dear Diary,

Haven’t written in so long because I’ve been on holiday in the States. We did have my Mum’s laptop with us, but I didn’t want to go on here (even though at times I really needed to) as I didn’t want to run the risk of either of my parents seeing DD in the browser history and finding my diary.

This is my place to vent, I don’t want to have to edit it for fear of my family reading it.

Anywho.

For the most part, the holiday was AMAZING. Been to four different states; Arizona, Utah, Nevada & California. Seen so many amazing things… Grand Canyon, Bryce Canyon, Zion, Arches, Monument Valley, killer wales in Santa Barabara, wild squirrels that ate out of my hand, Vegas… There’s just so much! It was absolutely amazing.

Of course there were tense times as well. For the whole month we travelled we were living in each other’s pockets. So of course, arguements happened, but for the most, it was great.

Now, the bad part: I failed one of my exams, the one I took when I was in agony after the procedure. No surprise.

So. I’ve been in contact with the uni. A concession has been granted so I can retake the exam as a first attempt – again. Hopefully third time lucky! I’m going to redo all my notes for that module. I’m not allowed to go to any lectures, but I have access to all the lecture notes online. So every week I’m going to write up that week’s lectures and do the extra reading they suggest – something I never did.

I’m still going to be living with Jenny and Sarah. I’m taking BSL level 2. I’m trying to get on to a lip-reading class. Only problem is, you have to be profoundly deaf to enroll, so I don’t think I’ll be able to get on, not until my hearing gets a lot worse anyway.

I’ve also sent out my resume to be a volunteer at the samaritans and being a volunteer at a prison up here in the North. As well as taking the refresher’s course at St John’s Ambulance so my first aider qualification doesn’t expire. So there’ll be plenty to keep me occupied.

Now that I’ve had time to really think about it, I actually think it’s a blessing. It means I can really focus on those things, especially BSL.

The other bad news: when I got my results, I started smoking again. Most days I have 3 cigs a day, some more some less, but I never go above five. So it’s not too bad.

Am suffering from jetlag at the minute, hence why I’m awake at this crazy hour (5.30am). Snoopy is looking at me like I’m crazy.

Have checked my email and saw how many updates there are… afraid I probably won’t be able to read them all, sorry!

V