I had a meeting with the police officer who handled the assault case today. She had been asked to see me by the inspector who was reviewing the case at my request. I had little idea what to expect, the meeting had only been arranged yesterday, but I guessed from the fact they had asked my support worker from Mind to be present that they were anticipating I was going to get upset. Actually it turned out that the review was complete, and the inspector had agreed with the original decision not to prosecute. That was, to be fair, what I had always expected the outcome to be, what I hadn’t expected was how hard it would hit me. As much as I had tried to prepare myself emotionally, I was reliving it all; not just the assault, but the intimate medical examination, giving my statement in minute, humiliating detail and the exact feelings all over again of the day we’d previously had the same conversation; the CPS would throw it out because it was my word against his. In my mind I’m calculating what tablets I have at home, which I have enough of to overdose on. It was like a default reaction to the pain. I need out. 

I had a lot of support from Liz & Liz (the police woman and my worker at Mind) but as much as I want to close this chapter of my life, as desperately as I want to put it behind me, I don’t know how to when my brain keeps switching into replay and I relive over and over the pain and the humiliation he put me through. I’ve lost friends over it, people I relied on as my support network. I feel alienated from others, purely beacause I am so ashamed of myself. It’s not just something you drop into casual conversation. Brave as I am pouring out my heart into cyberspace, when it comes to real life, I am a bit stuffed for people to support me through this. Aside from Liz at Mind nobody seems particularly bothered that I feel like I’m on the road to self-destruct again. When I post in the couple of closed groups I use on Facebook, all I seem to harp on about is ‘the assault’. I’m sick of it myself, so I can’t begin to imagine how others feel keep seeing it. I’m like a broken record. Stuck. Yes, that’s exactly it, I’m stuck. 

What I need is counselling. I was due to be assessed again by RASAC next week, but they’ve just discovered I was seen earlier in the year for childhood / domestic abuse. Jolly bad luck of me being assaulted three weeks after I finished counselling with them in June, now their policy says I have to wait until Janaury for another assessment. I know they’re overstretched and it’s so they can offer support to as many people as possible, but right here, right now, for Angel, THAT SUCKS. I now have to try and establish if there are other counselling services locally, and preferably free, or very cheap, who could possibly see me sooner.

I can’t help feeling the Community Mental Health Team are letting me down. They seem to have their own agenda completely, and I sometimes wonder if I actually feature in it at all. They don’t seem remotely bothered that my moods are unstable – all the time. I can’t cope. Keep swinging from high to low is more than I can bear.

I want to move on. I don’t want to be defined as a victim forever. I want to close the book and say enough is enough. But then I saw Him again today. Looking sorry for himself. For a split second I felt like slapping that pathetic look off his face. I wanted to yell how dare he mope around like a wet week. I’m the victim here! But I’m better than that. Stronger than that. Plus I really didn’t want to smash his face in in front of witnesses when I knew the police officer was about to arrive. 

So where do I go from here? I’m not at all sure. I’d be lying if I said I had succeeded in banning those thoughts of taking every damn tablet in the house, but I’m trying to keep them at bay. Alcohol seems like a good alternative right now. Lots of alcohol. Oh God this is hard.

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