Again I start this with an apology. I am sorry that I am not writing as frequent as I would like but time and energy does not permit me so at the moment. Its funny though as writing has made me 'live' again and its not because I am writing on here but I am writing my books again, after years of writers block. I feel whole again and that's not because of The Big Reunion and the fact that Atomic Kitten are singing it but because I feel me, for the first time in a long time. You will understand this if you have ever suffered depression because one of the things that really got me was the fact that I would look in the mirror and not recognise myself but recently I have, I can see me again, the woman and I was and the woman I am now and the woman I mean to be.
So I have wound up the abuse side of my story and why my life took a turn for the worst when I met TR. Now I want to concentrate on the aftermath and the way that I reacted to such trauma the way I did and basically left it till last month to actually come forward to the police. I must also add here that it has been two weeks today since I spent 7 hours in what felt like prison giving a statement, and as of yet TR has not been arrested and I have not been contacted by the police since. I've rang and left messages at the officers involved desk, to no response. I have also rang Victim Support who says they have not had my details reffered yet (which means there is no case as of yet to get support for). I have rung WAR women against rape who I downloaded the most wonderful booklet about the police process so I thought just maybe they could help. The woman at the end of the line had no idea really, and said she would ask a member of staff to ring me back. That was four days ago. It seems that society knocks you back everywhere you turn. I cant get support from my orginal worker as I am better now, although I could get bad again during this process I slip in the middle which is basically nowhere. I fit in no-ones service at the moment but my own. So my own it is, I've gone it alone before so whats the difference? I need to make it clear that this is how a woman is treated for coming forward, and they wonder why we dont, because we have a sixth sense that tells us, errr you know what, you are going to make me feel worse than I already do, why bother?! Well, thats up to strength I think and I have to stand tall my head high and say 'DAMN IT EVERYONE I WAS RAPED STOP SHUTTING ME UP, SHUT THE FUCKER WHO DID THIS TOO ME UP' god the silence is the worst of it all. No one talks to you about it, like its rotten or something. Maybe think they might get infected or something, like its contagious. Even my bestest friends dont say anything, they just wash over it, I dont even know if they believe me or not. Are they then my friends? Well that's up for debate.
Anyway enough moaning in the present, back to the breakdown. When I gave birth to my daughter, I could not tell you how I felt. I had had a son before, I knew the wave of love that comes, the utter gorgeousness of holding something you have made. I also knew the reality of late nights, sick and poo which seems to pop up all over your furniture and clothes. I had no rose tinted glasses on, I knew what to expect. But it didn't arrive. The immediate love at least and the late nights swam into day, I never knew if it was night or day but I was awake all the time. She was gorgeous, and I did love her but something was wrong, not with her with me. I, like everyone else put it down to the fact that I had 'just had a baby' and that my cat had died unexpectedly whilst I was giving birth. I was miserable for weeks after, and my baby was difficult, extremely difficult. She cried all the time, she curled up in pain. She only ever slept for 30 mins tops and would take another hour and a half to get back off. She would only then sleep if it was silent, the slightest creep would wake her. She is still the same now. I was exhausted and haunted.
Every time I slept if I slept, I saw TR's face. He was always dressed as he was The First Time. White shirt, grey trousers. Sometimes the dreams were flashback dreams, bits I had forgotten and then things I had not seen. I witnessed each rape as myself, a fly on the wall and as my husband and his wife. I even was TR in my dreams looking at the image of me. Flashbacks came vividly and usually would be the first or second time rapes. Other times I would dream of being his wife, as myself in a nice loving dream. Mostly though I had this recurring dream that I would report him, and when I did he was questioned then set free. No one believed me. He would then come after me, and kidnap me. He would lock me in the basement of his house, his wife and child upstairs. I would be tied to a beam naked sat on an old mattress Bare, cold and dirty. He would visit me at times and leave me food. But I could only have food if he could fuck me. He would untie me and anally rape me, cum on my face and spit and smack me. It sounds like a bad porno or something but this was my fears. I know that this dream was part of mixed memories of watching an episode of Eastenders (to which I never watch) about a nasty man locking his wife in the house next doors basement and grooming her. This episode was aired round the time I was raped so it was vivid in my mind although Eastenders version was tame in comparison to my own. This nightmare fed my whole world. I was paranoid this would become reality. That I would end up alone and dirty in that cell, with only him to speak to and to comfort me. Lost to others and a slave to TR. I began not wanting to sleep. I hated dreaming and thinking of him all the time. I hated him, I really did but he possessed my every thought like poison, like love.
If I did catch any sleep, I would wake up screaming and sweating. My husband would comfort me and calm me, but sometimes I would push him away thinking it was TR and screaming for help. The kids would wake and it would take my husband most the night to recover them from the event let alone me who would up cleaning instead. The health visitors had realised something was not right and quite rightly so made an appointment for the doctors. I was put on 10mg of Sertraline and put on my way, despite the fact they knew my history they still thought I was only suffering with Post Natel Depression. I began to push everyone away. Somedays I would not talk, some days I just cried. I could not see any light only black. My husband did not know how to cope and reached out for help again. This time the doctors increased my dose, appointed me a parent support worker and a counsellor. This helped for a time, he even got me a new cat to cheer me up. But the cat died after six weeks. I felt cursed. The more I got sick so did my baby and I was the only one who knew she was ill too. It took five months for someone to realise that she had severe burns down her throat and in her stomach due to the fact she was allergic to milk protein, including breast milk. Thats why she cried so much and did not sleep. When she was diagnosed, we were in hospital. Thats when I was left alone to shower one morning. As I did I saw my own reflection in the mirror. I was naked and dirty. I began scrubbing. I looked again, and the dirt was still there. I was fat and my belly looked swollen, there were strecth marks too. I began to scrub the stretch marks as if they were streaks of mud, scrubbing as hard as I could. I scrubbed my c section scar, it looked filthy and wrong. I kept scrubbing and I began freaking out too when the mark would not come off. I kept going an going and screaming at the 'mud' to go away. My husabnd heard me and walked in. By this time I was red raw from head to toe and bleeding around my mid section heavily. The blood looked like mud to me, and I rejoiced in seeing it flush down the drain.
J quit work after that. He no longer thought I could watch a young baby alone nor take care of myself. Luckily we still had my maternity wage for a year so it wasn't too bad financially. He didn't trust me alone, nor did my family. I had begun inflicting pain on myself at any given moment. My wrists were covered in slashes and I was binge eating. I would sit all day staring into space or rocketting around and cleaning manically. J did not understand and it was only when I said to him in a fit of tears 'I want to die. Its the only way out' that things started to get worse for him.
I tried to take my life, I said before. It was the most thrilling and most blackened day ever. After I had recovered and sickened that I had not managed to actually kill myself. I lay on the bed crying. J asked me 'why?'
I replied 'because of him'
'who is he?' he still did not know his name at this point.
'I will tell you, but you will leave me, you wont want me anymore if you knew what I do, therefore I cannot live with myself.'
'I will never leave you, never, I love you'
'You know who it was J, I know you do'
He sat and thought for a while. 'Are you sure?'
'look into your heart, search your instincts, I know you know somewhere in you'
He looked at me and said this 'I can only think of one name and I could be wrong but was it (TR)'
I nodded. The relief was immense but I could see his pain. And that alone made things so much more vivid to me. I had tried to avoid this, tried to protect him but I had failed. I was no longer strong enough to do so. I was no longer strong enough to have a husband, nor kids. I was a failure in my eyes. A slave and a slut to TR in every sense for I had protected him for far too long too. I was broken and my reality was not a reality I wanted to be in. J needed time to process this information, I was convinced it was the end. Of course J had always thought TR was my savior my protector at work, the fact he was the perpetrator was too much. He had shook hands with him and shared wine. He had trusted him to a degree but somewhere he knew it was not right. I had built up such a lovely story around TR that who was J to dispute that? But now I was telling him the complete opposite and I could see it was tough on him. By now and with the suicide every body had got involved from parents to doctors, to therapists to counselors to hospitals to social services, I was smothered in help. But it didn't help, not much anyway. I was still not sleeping, I refused to and I was still self harming. My husband who had always been susceptible to drinking when in a tough situation started to drink every day and night. More and more. He was not getting any help at all, he was lost in the fact that I was the damaged one, but in reality we both victims to TR.
Our relationship got worse. Arguments and debates. He even asked if our daughter was his or TR's. He knew the answer already but he did not want to hear it so stopped me from answering. He wanted to leave, I new he did but how does someone leave his wife when they are already as low as possible. He felt guilty that I would try and kill myself again, or that I others (who did not know the facts) would see him as 'the bastard who left his wife and kids whilst his wife was ill'. He did not want to be labelled, he did not want to leave me with the kids, quite rightly so and yet he needed out, it was killing him too.
If I was not dreaming of TR he was in my every waking thought. I began to wonder if I actually was 'in love' with him. The idea of sending him to prison made me psychically sick to my stomach. The thought of him being arrested because of me, sent me wild in fear. What would he think of me? What would he do when he knew it was me that dobbed him in? Would he think we were friends, that I should not betray him like that? Maybe I shouldn't betray after all he took care of me in my time of need, unlike my husband. I wanted to see him, I admit it. I needed to see him face to face but the decision was bad, I knew it was wrong to want to see TR, to be close. To watch him, to keep him in sight. Like the person I needed most was TR, the one that when I broke before knew my pain and cuddled me close and stroked my head till it all went away. I hated him but I loved him too? This was the biggest mind fucker of them all. I loved my husband that I know but TR had consumed me so much I was beginning to doubt myself and this pushed me beyond my limits. At one point I think I even drove to his house, I wanted to see it and I wanted to expose him, remind him I still knew the truth, but hoped that he would offer me some resolution at the same time. Thankfully I did not see him on my visit but the fact I went spoke volumes.
Friends all knew now, to a degree, bystanders such as playground mothers and neighbours all just thought I had post natal depression. I kept to myself and never left the house. I put on weight and stayed in bed. All the time J stayed with me, and I thank him for doing so as god knows how much strength that took and how much courage to not go and report TR himself or kill him. But his drinking got worse and my paranoia grew. Soon we were far from the couple we had been and I was barely even human.
I AM GOING TO STOP THERE AS I NEED TO SLEEP. I WILL WRITE AGAIN ON THIS TOMORROW. I PROMISE.
Night All.
xxxxx
Thursday 14 March 2013
Wednesday 6 March 2013
BABY BOOM WITH A BANG
I am so sorry to have been so long in writing this post. I have been recovering from the awfulness that was the police interview just under a week ago. It lasted 7.5 hours, and was completely draining.
Anyway it seems that from my statistics that someone is reading this, so please comment if you have anything to say even if its bad. I appreciate anything that is said good or bad because this is life!
So at the end of my last post I told you how I paid off TR and I have not seen him in person since. But yes, he has haunted me ever since. After our last encounter, me and J went into full swing with the IVF route. J was scheduled to have a special operation at the beginning of May and throughout April I was on fertility drugs to make me produce more eggs in preparation. My husband and I had relaxed about when and where, what temperature and timing when it came to sex and I remember that one evening (still haunted by the last time with TR) I pulled J onto the dining room table and we had sex then and there in between cooking our dinner! Both encounters with TR in my own house, I replaced with a memory of me and my husband doing the same. It felt like I could wipe that memory clean.
By the time that May came, I had been feeling queasy and felt I was coming down with something. I decided to go to the doctor and as usual they did the usual 'Could you be pregnant?' scenario as with all women who feel a little off. I said 'no,no way, we are going through IVF at the moment'. She replied that it did not matter, if we are having unprotected sex there is still a chance. So we did a test, which came out positive! I was shell shocked and could not believe it. I was so happy, the tears would not stop. I left the docs and called J, with whom I said come home I have something to tell you. I did not want this to happen over the phone, after all this time I wanted to see his face. I then went and bought the most expensive reliable tests I could because I still was not convinced. I bought a gift for my son, because I was so happy and I bought some 'new baby' baby grows for J. When I got home I did three more tests. On the digital ones that tell you how long you are pregnant and says positive or negative. Each one said positive and about three to four weeks along! This went back to the dining table time. I took a deep breath and wrapped one of the tests in a baby grow and put it in a gift box, wrapped with J name on. As soon as he arrived home, placed on the dining table was the box. He looked at me confused, he was worried. He knew that I had been to the doctors and was a little apprehensive as to what was wrong with me. I told him to unwrap the present and then we could talk.
I will never ever forget his face and the baby grow unravelled and the test popped out. His face, stared at it for ages and he burst into tears. 'Really?' he looked at me and I nodded also in tears. He ran over to me and picked me up and swung me round. Finally we had our moment of pure happiness, it was such a good feeling. Lil man was running round blissfully unaware of our tearful moment however savouring his new toy I had bought him. It was what they call a perfect moment.
The pregnancy was not without complications, I had chronic morning sickness more like 24 hour 7 days a week sickness. I wasn't even sick, it was just nausea. Awful. I was tired beyond tired, and soon I realised I would have to tell my employers with whom I had been avoiding telling for as long as possible. I was timing it all perfectly. I wanted to be well pregnant before word got back to TR so he would not be compelled to seek me out whilst I didn't have a bump. The bump was the sign, the obvious thing that would totally put him off. By June I told work and within about a two weeks word had got back to TR. Soon I got a message through on my phone. My new phone, as I had changed it again as I always did, trying to avoid him messaging me. The message read;
Hey u, how are u?x
I knew that it was him. The tell tale sign of the one kiss at the end and the begininning hey u which he always used after time had passed. I ignored the message, but it rang in my head constantly. I kept looking at the message, and then looking at my phone to check there was no more. I felt compelled to confirm what he had probably heard but I held off, I knew messaging him was a bad decision. One I could not help but consider. Eventually old habits kicked in and I messaged him back.
Fine, u?
'Yeah ok. Hows life?x'
I don't know if you heard but I am pregnant.
Fab, how far along?
I lied when I answered this, I made myself further along so I would be seem to be in full swing, and with a bigger bump.
'right, well I would still fuck you.x'
I had underestimated the level of his addiction and it pang badly. I was again at risk!!! It was an awful feeling. I didnt reply but he messaged again.
'Remember the last time on the dining room table?x
Oh hell, I had tried to erase it. My complacency My payment. Oh bugger, as the memories flooded in. I never responded again and more messages came, one after the other. The content unworthy of a mention as it was pure filth for a pregnant woman to endure. I got on with life but with his recent contact I got nervous about being home alone again and started to convince my husband that I wanted to move house. I became obsessed with this now. My lovely large country house, was compromised. I wanted to run and hide before he could reach me. I complained to my husband that the house was unsuitable for a baby. The spare room was cold, the bathroom was damp and the quarry tilling was dangerous. It was not hard to see that this was nothing far from the truth but underneath I needed to get out badly. The place had too many bad memories for me now and I wanted out. In a bid to stick with our country lifestyle, we looked at a house further down the hill, same village but in a larger house which had no damp. We contemplated it for ages and got the keys and took family round. In fact when we were in with my dad we told him we were pregnant whilst in the living room. Even our cats followed us down and walked round it! We negotiated a deal but then I got cold feet, it was not far enough away, it was a lovely house I loved it more so than ours but it would not take long before a few drives by TR through the village would see the cars and figure it out. No, we had to move into the town, blend with the environment. Hide. So we looked around and we found our now house. It was perfect for schools and not to near the centre. A nice suburb which was quiet and well respected area. A large garden too so we were straight into negotiations and soon we moved in. I was safe, happy and blooming.
The happiness didn't last and soon I was under investigation at work for something ridiculous I got quite stressed and sick with the disciplinary but was soon cleared of the allegation But I felt knocked by work and could not bring myself to go back to work. I was getting more and more depressed as I stayed at home and memories built up. Soon I could not walk, I don't carry well and I got Symphis Pubis Dysfunction where my pubic bone kept slipping from my pelvis causing loads of pain. I was in a wheelchair for the last trimester of pregnancy and then it got unbearable so they thought it wise to deliver at 37 weeks via c section.
I gave birth at the beginning of December to a beautiful baby girl to the delight of my husband, son and family. I on the other hand could not take it in and I felt wrong. I was not handling new motherhood well even though I thought I would considering I loved every minute with my son but my baby girl was sick and cried all the time. I could not sleep at all. My precious cat died on the day she was born and no one told me until I got home and asked where she was. It knocked me for six. I just could not cope with anything any more.
As the new year came and went I got worse and worse. It didn't help that our daughter was sick all the time. She would cry constantly, and never slept for more than half an hour. I felt overweight and unattractive and started to neglect myself more and more. We were in and out of hospital with our princess, trying to work out what was wrong. They kept making out I was an over reacting mother but I knew something was wrong. It was in hospital whilst our princess was in again that I went for a shower in the private bathroom we had. It was more a wet room and I could see myself in the shower. As I stared I felt crap and all of a sudden I burst into tears and started to rip at my skin with my fingernails. It felt like I was in the wrong body, the wrong skin and I had to get it off. It was a weird experience, one that was interrupted by my husband who heard my franticness from the room. He calmed me down and looked at the wounds on my hips and belly. It was then that he thought it best to get some help. He told my midwife and health visitor and they figured I had post natal depression. My love for our princess was distorted to I did not want to be left with her or anything. It was awful to feel that way about a baby I so desperately wanted. I was put on a low dose of anti depressants and given a parent support worker. After a time though things got worse, I couldn't sleep at all, and when I was given the opportunity, I would wake up screaming from flashbacks to the rape. I would shake violently and didn't want to go out in the real world any more.
I started to self harm all the time. My wrists, my legs usually using a sharp pair of nail scissors or tweezers. It felt brilliant but awful at the same time. I had never self harmed before, why did I start now. I would hide it from my family meaning I covered up all the time, even in bed. Sex was a big no, no, I just ended up pushing him off or crying. I avoiding contact with everyone, even my best friends. I would get paranoid that everyone was against me and out to spy on me for him. I became a recluse, not going anywhere. My husband thought it would be nice to get a new cat after a while, he knew it would help to cheer me up. So we got Whiskey, a gorgeous stray from the Blue Cross. He was lovely and did cheer me up no end, but soon he became ill and six weeks later died. This broke my heart again and I thought God, was punishing me again. This made me worse and worse and I started to push the kids and J away. I would sometimes not get up, not shower and other days I would clean clean clean manic like and not stop. It is strange to look back, like it is not me. I felt like I was not me too. Soon the health visitors and parent support worker noticed this was more than Post Natal Depression and one finally sat down with me and asked. I broke down in tears and spilled the beans, showed her my cuts and my rape secret. Soon I was going to the doctors armed with PSW and was given some more anti depressants, a higher dose. I was sent for counselling and managed to get some of the stuff out.
Then my counselling was stopped as the severity of my depression was beyond the help of the NHS counselling and I was referred to the nearest Rape Crisis centre for counselling with professionals. During the time lapse between the counselling in August 2010, I got a text message whilst out in the garden with a friend. The message read;
Hey u. x
I knew it was him, it had been a year since he last contacted me and it hit me like a tun of bricks. I fell to my knees and dropped crying. My friend read the message and told me to tell J. I knew I had too as well, it was time. After she had left, I made a decision I could not go on any more I decided that I would take my own life. It was the only way out I could see. I was a crap mother, a crap wife, a crap friend, a cheating scum-bag wife and a liar. It was all too much. I took loads of paracetamol downed with a bottle of cider and schnapps mixed together. It was a thrilling experience and I felt brill about it. When J came back with the kids, he knew I was not right. I was laughing and saying bye bye all the time. I don't need to deal with this shit anymore kinda talk. His instincts kicked in and he drove me straight to the hospital Where after hours of tests and going in and out of sleep, they decided I had not done enough damage to kill myself. Damn it, how many pills did I need to bring me down?! It was then that I was assigned a Psychotherapist and was involved with the IHT team which meant Intensive Home Treatment. My worker would visit every day, and I was given the highest dose of anti depressants going as well as being diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
All this happened and I managed to tell J what had triggered the suicide attempt. I showed J the message. He boiled. Then I admitted who it was, I told him he knew. He knew in his instincts, somewhere he knew, that he had blocked it out but he knew. He looked at me and guessed. He was right too, and I knew he had figured it out somewhere down the line. I told more to him and he was obviously hurt and destroyed by the lying and not telling him sooner. But he kept by my side bless him. I thought he would leave me, but he stayed. He gave up work to be my carer and take care of our princess, it was ok as I was still getting paid from work on maternity leave so one wage was still coming in at least. It felt good that he knew but it was hard, he wanted to go rip his head off. He even visited his house but he was on holiday, thank god. Soon though and predictable as TR was he made contact again via text. As I had not replied to his earlier text he did what he always did to get a response from me;
'I am targeting 3 new girls at B at the moment. They are HOT.x'
As I always do, I replied with who, what as my instinct to protect them was at a high. He replied with filth, and he told me he knew the name of my daughter and said the name was 'beautiful'. He then told me he had seen me, that my body had snapped back to its original form. This disturbed me so much, he had seen me? Oh Hell. I was paranoid. But I soon figured the link and it was someone at my Slimming World Group who worked for B too had gone back and mentioned something. I showed J the messages and this time J text the number back.
'LEAVE MY WIFE ALONE YOU FUCKING TWAT, I KNOW WHAT YOU DID, WHAT YOU HAVE DONE AND THE MONEY YOU TOOK. LEAVE HER ALONE OR I WILL TELL YOUR WIFE'
He then tried ringing him but he never got a response. It was then I agreed to tell the police. An appointment was made to speak with the CID and they came round. I had my IHT support worker, my husband and my mother there for moral support as the policewoman took us through what would happen if I pressed charges etc. She explained that this visit was off record and informal but talk through what had happened. This was so hard to do in front of J and my mum but I managed it some how but I was vomiting by the end. I showed them the 'target' text and said I was worried for others. My IHT worker intervened that she thought I was so unstable that I would not be able to endure the police process at this time. My mother took minutes whilst my husband hugged me. When I finished I went to sleep for ages. When I awoke, my mother had written the minutes up and sent them to all my family members and friends to let them know! I was so shocked and it was such a betrayal of my confidence. I felt helpless and out of control. It was an awful feeling.
J agreed we could get another cat to cheer me up and this time agreed a kitten would be better and less liely to die. I loved my little scampi and he cheered me up so much. However when he was six months old he was run over and killed. That day I tried to commit suicide again, this time more so. I was rushed to hospital by ambulance - the account is in my writings during breakdown page.
Life had got low, lower than ever and now I was deep into the Rape Crisis Counselling. However, I would never ever hear from TR again. The police blocked my phone and put me under the POVA list. I was protected but it was only last week that I finally took the step to bring this man down, two and a half years from first telling the police and getting through the most difficult time of my life. I will write some more about how I got through it all and the affect it had on my husband, in which he is a victim too, not directly but he suffered a lot of pain and I had all the help in the world but he had non.
THANKS FOR READING. HERE IS A QUOTE FROM TODAY
SOME PEOPLE THINK TO BE STRONG IS NEVER FEEL PAIN. BUT IN REALITY IT IS THOSE THAT HAVE FELT IT, LIVED IT AND ACCEPTED IT THAT ARE THE STRONGEST OF ALL.
Best Wishes
Bethany xx
Anyway it seems that from my statistics that someone is reading this, so please comment if you have anything to say even if its bad. I appreciate anything that is said good or bad because this is life!
So at the end of my last post I told you how I paid off TR and I have not seen him in person since. But yes, he has haunted me ever since. After our last encounter, me and J went into full swing with the IVF route. J was scheduled to have a special operation at the beginning of May and throughout April I was on fertility drugs to make me produce more eggs in preparation. My husband and I had relaxed about when and where, what temperature and timing when it came to sex and I remember that one evening (still haunted by the last time with TR) I pulled J onto the dining room table and we had sex then and there in between cooking our dinner! Both encounters with TR in my own house, I replaced with a memory of me and my husband doing the same. It felt like I could wipe that memory clean.
By the time that May came, I had been feeling queasy and felt I was coming down with something. I decided to go to the doctor and as usual they did the usual 'Could you be pregnant?' scenario as with all women who feel a little off. I said 'no,no way, we are going through IVF at the moment'. She replied that it did not matter, if we are having unprotected sex there is still a chance. So we did a test, which came out positive! I was shell shocked and could not believe it. I was so happy, the tears would not stop. I left the docs and called J, with whom I said come home I have something to tell you. I did not want this to happen over the phone, after all this time I wanted to see his face. I then went and bought the most expensive reliable tests I could because I still was not convinced. I bought a gift for my son, because I was so happy and I bought some 'new baby' baby grows for J. When I got home I did three more tests. On the digital ones that tell you how long you are pregnant and says positive or negative. Each one said positive and about three to four weeks along! This went back to the dining table time. I took a deep breath and wrapped one of the tests in a baby grow and put it in a gift box, wrapped with J name on. As soon as he arrived home, placed on the dining table was the box. He looked at me confused, he was worried. He knew that I had been to the doctors and was a little apprehensive as to what was wrong with me. I told him to unwrap the present and then we could talk.
I will never ever forget his face and the baby grow unravelled and the test popped out. His face, stared at it for ages and he burst into tears. 'Really?' he looked at me and I nodded also in tears. He ran over to me and picked me up and swung me round. Finally we had our moment of pure happiness, it was such a good feeling. Lil man was running round blissfully unaware of our tearful moment however savouring his new toy I had bought him. It was what they call a perfect moment.
The pregnancy was not without complications, I had chronic morning sickness more like 24 hour 7 days a week sickness. I wasn't even sick, it was just nausea. Awful. I was tired beyond tired, and soon I realised I would have to tell my employers with whom I had been avoiding telling for as long as possible. I was timing it all perfectly. I wanted to be well pregnant before word got back to TR so he would not be compelled to seek me out whilst I didn't have a bump. The bump was the sign, the obvious thing that would totally put him off. By June I told work and within about a two weeks word had got back to TR. Soon I got a message through on my phone. My new phone, as I had changed it again as I always did, trying to avoid him messaging me. The message read;
Hey u, how are u?x
I knew that it was him. The tell tale sign of the one kiss at the end and the begininning hey u which he always used after time had passed. I ignored the message, but it rang in my head constantly. I kept looking at the message, and then looking at my phone to check there was no more. I felt compelled to confirm what he had probably heard but I held off, I knew messaging him was a bad decision. One I could not help but consider. Eventually old habits kicked in and I messaged him back.
Fine, u?
'Yeah ok. Hows life?x'
I don't know if you heard but I am pregnant.
Fab, how far along?
I lied when I answered this, I made myself further along so I would be seem to be in full swing, and with a bigger bump.
'right, well I would still fuck you.x'
I had underestimated the level of his addiction and it pang badly. I was again at risk!!! It was an awful feeling. I didnt reply but he messaged again.
'Remember the last time on the dining room table?x
Oh hell, I had tried to erase it. My complacency My payment. Oh bugger, as the memories flooded in. I never responded again and more messages came, one after the other. The content unworthy of a mention as it was pure filth for a pregnant woman to endure. I got on with life but with his recent contact I got nervous about being home alone again and started to convince my husband that I wanted to move house. I became obsessed with this now. My lovely large country house, was compromised. I wanted to run and hide before he could reach me. I complained to my husband that the house was unsuitable for a baby. The spare room was cold, the bathroom was damp and the quarry tilling was dangerous. It was not hard to see that this was nothing far from the truth but underneath I needed to get out badly. The place had too many bad memories for me now and I wanted out. In a bid to stick with our country lifestyle, we looked at a house further down the hill, same village but in a larger house which had no damp. We contemplated it for ages and got the keys and took family round. In fact when we were in with my dad we told him we were pregnant whilst in the living room. Even our cats followed us down and walked round it! We negotiated a deal but then I got cold feet, it was not far enough away, it was a lovely house I loved it more so than ours but it would not take long before a few drives by TR through the village would see the cars and figure it out. No, we had to move into the town, blend with the environment. Hide. So we looked around and we found our now house. It was perfect for schools and not to near the centre. A nice suburb which was quiet and well respected area. A large garden too so we were straight into negotiations and soon we moved in. I was safe, happy and blooming.
The happiness didn't last and soon I was under investigation at work for something ridiculous I got quite stressed and sick with the disciplinary but was soon cleared of the allegation But I felt knocked by work and could not bring myself to go back to work. I was getting more and more depressed as I stayed at home and memories built up. Soon I could not walk, I don't carry well and I got Symphis Pubis Dysfunction where my pubic bone kept slipping from my pelvis causing loads of pain. I was in a wheelchair for the last trimester of pregnancy and then it got unbearable so they thought it wise to deliver at 37 weeks via c section.
I gave birth at the beginning of December to a beautiful baby girl to the delight of my husband, son and family. I on the other hand could not take it in and I felt wrong. I was not handling new motherhood well even though I thought I would considering I loved every minute with my son but my baby girl was sick and cried all the time. I could not sleep at all. My precious cat died on the day she was born and no one told me until I got home and asked where she was. It knocked me for six. I just could not cope with anything any more.
As the new year came and went I got worse and worse. It didn't help that our daughter was sick all the time. She would cry constantly, and never slept for more than half an hour. I felt overweight and unattractive and started to neglect myself more and more. We were in and out of hospital with our princess, trying to work out what was wrong. They kept making out I was an over reacting mother but I knew something was wrong. It was in hospital whilst our princess was in again that I went for a shower in the private bathroom we had. It was more a wet room and I could see myself in the shower. As I stared I felt crap and all of a sudden I burst into tears and started to rip at my skin with my fingernails. It felt like I was in the wrong body, the wrong skin and I had to get it off. It was a weird experience, one that was interrupted by my husband who heard my franticness from the room. He calmed me down and looked at the wounds on my hips and belly. It was then that he thought it best to get some help. He told my midwife and health visitor and they figured I had post natal depression. My love for our princess was distorted to I did not want to be left with her or anything. It was awful to feel that way about a baby I so desperately wanted. I was put on a low dose of anti depressants and given a parent support worker. After a time though things got worse, I couldn't sleep at all, and when I was given the opportunity, I would wake up screaming from flashbacks to the rape. I would shake violently and didn't want to go out in the real world any more.
I started to self harm all the time. My wrists, my legs usually using a sharp pair of nail scissors or tweezers. It felt brilliant but awful at the same time. I had never self harmed before, why did I start now. I would hide it from my family meaning I covered up all the time, even in bed. Sex was a big no, no, I just ended up pushing him off or crying. I avoiding contact with everyone, even my best friends. I would get paranoid that everyone was against me and out to spy on me for him. I became a recluse, not going anywhere. My husband thought it would be nice to get a new cat after a while, he knew it would help to cheer me up. So we got Whiskey, a gorgeous stray from the Blue Cross. He was lovely and did cheer me up no end, but soon he became ill and six weeks later died. This broke my heart again and I thought God, was punishing me again. This made me worse and worse and I started to push the kids and J away. I would sometimes not get up, not shower and other days I would clean clean clean manic like and not stop. It is strange to look back, like it is not me. I felt like I was not me too. Soon the health visitors and parent support worker noticed this was more than Post Natal Depression and one finally sat down with me and asked. I broke down in tears and spilled the beans, showed her my cuts and my rape secret. Soon I was going to the doctors armed with PSW and was given some more anti depressants, a higher dose. I was sent for counselling and managed to get some of the stuff out.
Then my counselling was stopped as the severity of my depression was beyond the help of the NHS counselling and I was referred to the nearest Rape Crisis centre for counselling with professionals. During the time lapse between the counselling in August 2010, I got a text message whilst out in the garden with a friend. The message read;
Hey u. x
I knew it was him, it had been a year since he last contacted me and it hit me like a tun of bricks. I fell to my knees and dropped crying. My friend read the message and told me to tell J. I knew I had too as well, it was time. After she had left, I made a decision I could not go on any more I decided that I would take my own life. It was the only way out I could see. I was a crap mother, a crap wife, a crap friend, a cheating scum-bag wife and a liar. It was all too much. I took loads of paracetamol downed with a bottle of cider and schnapps mixed together. It was a thrilling experience and I felt brill about it. When J came back with the kids, he knew I was not right. I was laughing and saying bye bye all the time. I don't need to deal with this shit anymore kinda talk. His instincts kicked in and he drove me straight to the hospital Where after hours of tests and going in and out of sleep, they decided I had not done enough damage to kill myself. Damn it, how many pills did I need to bring me down?! It was then that I was assigned a Psychotherapist and was involved with the IHT team which meant Intensive Home Treatment. My worker would visit every day, and I was given the highest dose of anti depressants going as well as being diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
All this happened and I managed to tell J what had triggered the suicide attempt. I showed J the message. He boiled. Then I admitted who it was, I told him he knew. He knew in his instincts, somewhere he knew, that he had blocked it out but he knew. He looked at me and guessed. He was right too, and I knew he had figured it out somewhere down the line. I told more to him and he was obviously hurt and destroyed by the lying and not telling him sooner. But he kept by my side bless him. I thought he would leave me, but he stayed. He gave up work to be my carer and take care of our princess, it was ok as I was still getting paid from work on maternity leave so one wage was still coming in at least. It felt good that he knew but it was hard, he wanted to go rip his head off. He even visited his house but he was on holiday, thank god. Soon though and predictable as TR was he made contact again via text. As I had not replied to his earlier text he did what he always did to get a response from me;
'I am targeting 3 new girls at B at the moment. They are HOT.x'
As I always do, I replied with who, what as my instinct to protect them was at a high. He replied with filth, and he told me he knew the name of my daughter and said the name was 'beautiful'. He then told me he had seen me, that my body had snapped back to its original form. This disturbed me so much, he had seen me? Oh Hell. I was paranoid. But I soon figured the link and it was someone at my Slimming World Group who worked for B too had gone back and mentioned something. I showed J the messages and this time J text the number back.
'LEAVE MY WIFE ALONE YOU FUCKING TWAT, I KNOW WHAT YOU DID, WHAT YOU HAVE DONE AND THE MONEY YOU TOOK. LEAVE HER ALONE OR I WILL TELL YOUR WIFE'
He then tried ringing him but he never got a response. It was then I agreed to tell the police. An appointment was made to speak with the CID and they came round. I had my IHT support worker, my husband and my mother there for moral support as the policewoman took us through what would happen if I pressed charges etc. She explained that this visit was off record and informal but talk through what had happened. This was so hard to do in front of J and my mum but I managed it some how but I was vomiting by the end. I showed them the 'target' text and said I was worried for others. My IHT worker intervened that she thought I was so unstable that I would not be able to endure the police process at this time. My mother took minutes whilst my husband hugged me. When I finished I went to sleep for ages. When I awoke, my mother had written the minutes up and sent them to all my family members and friends to let them know! I was so shocked and it was such a betrayal of my confidence. I felt helpless and out of control. It was an awful feeling.
J agreed we could get another cat to cheer me up and this time agreed a kitten would be better and less liely to die. I loved my little scampi and he cheered me up so much. However when he was six months old he was run over and killed. That day I tried to commit suicide again, this time more so. I was rushed to hospital by ambulance - the account is in my writings during breakdown page.
Life had got low, lower than ever and now I was deep into the Rape Crisis Counselling. However, I would never ever hear from TR again. The police blocked my phone and put me under the POVA list. I was protected but it was only last week that I finally took the step to bring this man down, two and a half years from first telling the police and getting through the most difficult time of my life. I will write some more about how I got through it all and the affect it had on my husband, in which he is a victim too, not directly but he suffered a lot of pain and I had all the help in the world but he had non.
THANKS FOR READING. HERE IS A QUOTE FROM TODAY
SOME PEOPLE THINK TO BE STRONG IS NEVER FEEL PAIN. BUT IN REALITY IT IS THOSE THAT HAVE FELT IT, LIVED IT AND ACCEPTED IT THAT ARE THE STRONGEST OF ALL.
Best Wishes
Bethany xx
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