Too much.

Evening all.
Firstly I would like to say, before I get started on the meat of this post, a big thank you to all those people on Twitter who have been amazingly kind and supportive to me over the past month or so. It really hasn't been an easy time for me, but some of you in particular have been absolutely amazing.
I would also like to apologise to those same people on Twitter, and any other followers, who have had to put up with my erratic tweeting/moaning/general misery over said month. Once more, thank you.

So, it's been a while.
My last post was before the trial began, and also mentioned how L had said something that lead me to believe she had feelings for me.
First things first; the trial. It didn't exactly get off to a great start, thanks to the fuck-up that calls itself an 'organisation' (what a joke-as my auntie put it; "they couldn't organise a bunk up in a brothel) - the CPS. Long story short the trial either had to start from scratch with a new judge the next day, or wait until next fucking March; guess which option we went for? It was exhausting. Every day I geared myself up for the fact that I could be called any minute, and for the irate two days; nothing. I tell you, sitting around doing shit all in that environment really takes its toll. Eventually, on the Friday (when the trial was due to end, fat chance) I gave my evidence. I can't really explain how it felt, to have to stand up there and be cross examined. I'd told myself I wasn't going to cry, but I ended up in floods of tears. To stand up there, having to remember what happened that night, what he did to me, what he made me do to him, in front of everyone, and to be basically accused of lying by the defence barrister...there are no words. I felt...exposed. So entirely vulnerable, like my heart was being ripped out and my soul, my character, was out for all to see and examine. I practically broke down at one point. I'd been told I could stop at any point for a break, but I knew that if I left that room I wouldn't want to go back in. So I stood my ground, and told my side. At times I felt anger; anger that I had to remember that night, anger at the things this woman (the defence barrister) was implying, anger at the man who I thankfully couldn't see but knew was standing so close. Fury, at times, threatened to overwhelm me, but I knew I could not break, would not break. Besides the fact that getting angry and 'smart' with the defence wouldn't help at all, I just knew I could not let myself be broken like that. So instead, I spoke through gritted teeth when needed and through tears when I couldn't fight them anymore. When it was over, and I was dismissed, I felt drained. I cried and cried and cried. My SOLO, R, who was nothing short of amazing, a rock to me, throughout, had been allowed to sit behind me while I spoke, so was instantly on hand to get me out of there. We left and my parents enveloped me. We all cried. Then the court broke for a short while, and after that, L was up to give her evidence. I was outside having a cigarette and she came out 5minutes later. Neither of us were sure if we were now allowed to talk to each other. That moment then, me sitting there, her standing there, just looking at each other, me wanting to badly to just hug her, was horrendous. Finally we were told, yes, it's ok now, and I didn't want to let go. Having been through something all too similar years ago, I knew the process wouldn't have been fun for her, all the more considering her hints of feelings for me. To sum up the next period of time, I went to my brothers with him and stayed there til all my friends who were giving evidence had finished and then came round to his too. Eventually, the court day ended and we could all be together. That night L and I spoke properly, but that's for later.
When court broke for the weekend, and indeed, right up until the verdict, it all seemed to be going well. Our barrister seemed confident, and even the judge seemed to be leaning towards favouring the prosecution.
But it was all for nothing.
"They found the bastard innocent."
Those were the words my father said, and then he started crying. The moment he came in the room, the verdict was written all over his face, the pain, the anger, and the sorrow. My mother was crying, my brother was crying, my SOLO was crying, and L had gone outside to cry. I didn't. I couldn't. I just felt numb. It wasn't for a few more minutes that it swallowed me, but even then it wasn't sadness. It was anger. That fury, that rage that had held its hand over me while I stood in court, slammed down on me. But I had to reign it in. I don't think damaging court property and premises would have been a good way to end things. I needed to get out of there. Nobody knew what to say. I certainly didn't. Over the next few hours, when I had presumed I would go into 'shut down', I found myself able to claw my way out for breath. I would not close down. We went home, and over the next few hours gradually more and more people came to see me and say how sorry they were. There wasn't much I could say. At least it's over.
Even now, I'm not 100% sure how I feel. Angry? Yes. Sad? Yes. Relieved? Oddly, yes. At least it's over.
The system let me down.
Everyone, the police, the barrister, all my support workers, even the judge knew the right verdict, but the truth is, with rape cases, convictions are hard to get. At the moment the figures show that in rape cases, the prosecution level stands at 6 per cent. 6 PER CENT. Women are encouraged to come forward and report this abominable crime, but for what? For the hell of reliving it in a public arena, being called a liar, watching the hell their family goes through as they learn the details? The system is quite frankly BULLSHIT. That man's fate was in the hands of people who have no idea of the torment, the pain, the agony of living as a victim of rape, and they set him free, because there were doubts. I fully appreciate that the jury system may save countless innocent people from prison, but it's plain to see that it is riddled with failings. At the backs of the minds of every one of those jurors was the real possibility of sending a man to prison. How can you claim that would not have had an effect? Strangers cannot be impartial. Maybe there isn't a clear solution, but when only 6 per cent of these evil men are convicted, how can anyone say our justice system works? This 'justice' system hasn't only failed me, and rendered me scared to leave my house in the knowledge that he is still allowed to walk around, free and innocent in the eyes of the law, but it has failed hundreds of women, and will fail countless more. It makes me furious, it breaks my heart that anyone who goes through what I went through, which wasn't even as vicious as this crime can be, have such a small hope of justice. I am now supposed to move on with my life, build a future, but how? Everyone told me how I was right to take it to the police, that I was so brave to take it to court when so many wouldn't, but would I have simply saved myself the pain of those words: not guilty? Would it not be better for women everywhere to exact their own brand of justice on those bastards by having extensive counselling and building happy, successful lives? Of course it would, but it's not that easy. How easy would you find it if, as in my case, your virginity was ripped from you? That act of love, of giving yourself to someone so completely, with so much trust, that you had always warned the chance to give, was stolen from you? How easily could you move on, even if the bastard was incarcerated, let alone if he was allowed to walk away scot free? The justice system is a failure. Men who steal are convicted. Men who rape are not. Rape is stealing a woman’s right, rape is an evil act. The cunt who ruined me apparently considers rape to be 'when the man is violent and beats the woman up and stuff', according to his evidence. Is that not what rape will mean to too many more? The justice system FAILS US.
And I am lost for words.
What more can I say? What more can any one person do? One person who can't even leave the house and go into her local town centre because she knows HE lives nearby! Some small mercy, some small, small solace could, I suppose be found in that fact that his name was published, his address, his details. Anyone who reads the local paper and has the slightest bit of self respect wouldn't go near him. He will be the one who people know was accused, and I can only hope that others can see the truth, even if the court couldn't. I hold onto the conversation overhead by my mother in a local shop - on a day when the headline in the local paper read 'WOMEN WARNED AFTER TWO SEX ATTACKS IN TWO DAYS' my mother heard one woman say to another as they perused the headline; "well it's like that bloke who lives round here, they found him innocent but he was guilty as sin".
Small mercies, small hopes.
6 percent. Gone.

So now I have to move forwards.

My attempts to continue an education I desperately want but am unable to pursue in the full time manner due to previously mentioned inability to leave the house without feeling terrified, and my crippling body hang ups thanks to the weight that has piled on with the depression, have also been scuppered. The local college, that I did attend until it became impossible for me to do so, have the monopoly on local A Level evening classes...which you can only complete if you're aged 19 or over. What a joke. But I won't start on that now. Suffice to say we are battling on this one.

Battling. Constantly.
But there's one more battle that will not be fought anymore.
As some of you will know, over the last few months my grandmother has been in and out of hospital with various problems, and has been really very ill. As of last week, she had accepted she would not be able to return to her own home, and faced losing her leg. Then she lost the use of one of her hands. Then her kidneys packed in. Then she lost blood flow to her foot. Then the infection in her leg started spreading throughout the rest of her body. Then it was realised, that it simply wasn't fair to let her keep fighting, and in so much pain. The doctors and my family agreed it was best for her to simply make her comfortable. And then yesterday, she slipped away from us.
Fortunately, we all got to say goodbye. Mum, dad, brother and I all went to see her the day before. At that point she did still seem to know us. I sat with her, on my own as I had wanted, not knowing what to say. Seeing her like that...that wasn't my Nan lying there. That was an old woman, so small, and old. I held her hand, and she gripped so hard. I told her I love her, and would miss her, and would never forget her. I told her that I would always remember her whenever I eat Semolina and Ginger Nut biscuits, and said "na-night nanny nicely, bye nanny properly" for that last time, though I didn't know it. She wasn't fully with it, and kept saying "must be quick, must be quick", but when I said "I love you" she opened her eyes, looked at me and said "I love you too." When I left the room I turned and looked at her, and her arm was still stretching out to where I had just been sat. I'm crying now as I write this, and remember the last time I saw her alive. None of us actually thought she would go so fast, so it was still a bit of a shock. When mum and dad walked through the door while I was drying the dishes and L came down the stairs after her shower, I knew there was no other reason they would both be here, home at this time. It broke my heart seeing my dad like that. He cried on my shoulder, but I couldn't cry. I just felt so utterly numb. I think I barely blinked for the next few hours. I've never lost a relative before; I still don't know if I'm grieving right. When I was younger, my Nan was such a big part of my life. I'd spend weekends with her, go out on day trips with her, and spend New Years with her when my parents wanted to see their friends. I will hold so many good memories of her, but sadly, also many bad ones. I can't fully yet banish the images of her over the last few years, each time she was in hospital, each time she got ill again. I've never thought of her as old, but at 85, she had lived such a long life. A fighter through and through was my Nan, surviving wars, heart attacks, a stroke, cancer, nervous breakdowns...but she couldn't win every fight. She couldn't beat time. I still can't believe she's gone. Until now, I haven't cried much, I don't know why, but believe me I'm crying now. I'm going to miss her so much. She can't be gone. My Nan, the invincible woman, how can she be gone? My dad is being so amazing, he's lost his mother but he's staying as strong as he can. Sure, I've seen him cry more this past year that in all the rest of my life put together, but he's the strongest man I know. My sister, who's living in Australia, got to say goodbye to Nan when we did, albeit over the phone. Nan knew who she was talking to. She was so proud of my sister, so proud. I only recently found out that the last thing my Nan said to my sister before she moved away was "if you're going for 3 years I expect I'll never see you again." My sister really wanted to come home the day she said goodbye to Nan, but she's now decided to stay out there, which we all agree is the right thing for her to do. All this does make me miss my sister, which I haven't really done for a while. It's hard that he doesn't know everything that's gone on this year, but it's the right thing in the circumstances.

So as it stands, Nan’s funeral will be this Tuesday coming. I've never been to a funeral before, and in a way I think I hoped I never would. I don't want to have to say goodbye. But my Nan will live forever, where it really matters; in our hearts.

I'll always love you Nan, and I miss you more than words can say. I hope you're as proud of me as I am of you, proud I had you in my life, proud that I had you as my Nan. You will be my inspiration, to keep fighting, to keep living as I want to. I will not let this beat me, I will not. You never did. No matter what life did, you held your head high and carried on. You loved your boys, you loved their wives and you loved us, their children. You loved so much, and I will miss you so, so much. We all will. You kept fighting. Right til the very end when you still kept trying to take those bandages off! I will make you proud. I will. I love you Nan. I miss you. Please stay with me. Please help me live as you lived- with love and kindness, as I knew you. Na-night nanny nicely, goodbye nanny properly. You will NEVER be forgotten.

You can't see how much I'm crying right now. But I think I needed that. Writing that, and crying now, I need to cry. I haven't done enough of it recently really. Mum keeps telling me it's ok to cry, and I know it is, but I'm always afraid I won't be able to stop. This year has been, without a shadow of a doubt, the worst of my life. I won't be sorry to see the back of it...but I think I'll stay at home this New Year.

As for things with L...well...!
I feel tired and worn out now but I know how therapeutic writing is for me, and I know if I don't do this now I never will.
Basically, on the Saturday before the trial I think it was, L sent me a text that said something like "I love you more than you realise" so I replied with "Are you trying to tell me something?"
To be honest, I was mainly joking! I didn't think she would reply with "Well yes I am, but it's not the right time to tell you are it?” In the lead up to the trial, we didn't talk much about it, but apparently it was obvious to my SOLO and the other police officer in charge that something was going on! After Friday, L came home with us and stayed the night. I think we were all feeling on a bit of a strange high, I know I was. Having done my bit, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted, and we all relaxed with a few drinks. When we went up to bed conversation eventually came to what had been said in the texts the other night. Long story short (ha! I hear you cry!) she told me that she had feelings for me and wanted more than just friendship and I said I wasn't sure how I felt, but that I know I love her and she's my best friend and I don't ever want to lose her. The weekend was...interesting. There was a new level to our friendship that we both had to get used to, but it was nice. Flirtier jokes and comments, and texts between us that sometimes shocked me and made me grin a little at the same time. But it was nice. And after the trial, I came to realise that I did feel the same for her. I would be lying if I said that when I first met her I didn't find her attractive, but as I knew she had a boyfriend I pushed any feelings like that aside if ever they came up. She truly became my best friend, and life would seriously have been shit without her.
But then, after the verdict, things seemed to change.
I know it wasn't easy for her either, and she sat in for his evidence which undoubtedly brought back a lot of unpleasant memories. She went away the next weekend as she had already planned, for a friend’s house warming party, and when she left things didn't feel right. She said she needed some time to think and we'd talk when she got back. Only we didn't. And then she had to go back up to Essex to see him again. And then her closest brother was rushed into hospital, where, as far as I know as she isn't telling me much, he still is. There's also the matter of P, her brothers best friend who she had a thing with a while back, is really close to and is completely in love with her. And basically, it would seem she doesn't know how she feels. He knows about how she says she feels for me, and he was more than a little shocked apparently. Other than him, no one else knows. I just don't know what to do. She's obviously been spending a lot of time with P recently because of her brother, but it's hard. I'm trying to be understanding, and be there for her, but when she doesn't tell me what's going on and when she doesn’t talk to me, it's hard to know what to do. She keeps saying there's a couple of things she's wants to say to me but she also doesn't want to, and that if I push her she won't say anything. I also now know she spent the night with P last night, and whilst she says nothing happened, that he was just there to talk about her brother and then they had a fair few drinks and he just ended up staying, and while I believe her, I'm just struggling. They have a lot of history that I know about, and whilst she says she loves me and misses me when she's not with me, when she's on the phone to him or texting him I find it hard to even be in the same room. I haven't spoken to her about it, because with everything going on in both our lives I don't want to upset the balance, but I just don't know how much more I can take. I don't know what's going on between us, between her and P, I don't know how her brother is, and she won't talk to me. She's says she knows she can talk to me about anything and that I'm one of the few people she trusts, but then seems to be holding so much back from me. I don't think it’s just 'jealousy' but I don't know what to do. Blame it on my star sign Taurus or whatever, but when I fall for someone I fall hard. This is only the second time I've ever felt like this, and the other girl I badly fell in love with decided to cut me out of her life when she found out I liked her. I so don't want to lose L, but I don't know what to so.

Things are just stacking up again. When the trial ended, other than the feelings I had over the verdict, I also felt relieved it was over. But now, I think I'm not dealing with it as well as I thought, and now Nan’s gone and the situation with L is getting unbearably painful for me and with everything else, I'm just starting to feel overwhelmed again. I've already regrettably reverted to 'old habits' as it were once and I just don't know what I'm doing most of the time. I can't switch off, can't relax, can't breathe, can't sleep brilliantly again, despite this glorious new bed. Most days I'm walking round with my head working a mile a minute and freaking out. Mainly about L if I'm honest. I'm just worrying about everything. I don't think my medication is helping massively at the moment, and my psych nurse was planning to change my medication soon so I'm worrying about that too!
Part of me just wants to get fucked hammered and pass out, part of me wants to go and smash things, part of me wants to curl up in a ball and die, part of me wants to scream and shout and cry, but no one part of me can decide what I actually AM going to do.

So right now I'm lying awake crying, worried about L because she was going home tonight to meet with her brothers doctor to discuss his situation and I haven't heard from her, worried about mum and dad, worried about how my brother's coping with Nan being gone, worried about my sister on her own on the other side of the fucking world and wondering what the hell the last 3 months of this shitty year are going to throw at me now.

But other than all of that, everything is rosy in this Finch's garden.

Time to get some sleep now I think. Apologies for the length of this post again, as you can see a lot has been going on since my last post so it was sort of necessary. Thank you once more for your support. I just hope it can be enough.

H.x

Half out.

So last night I came out to my auntie.


I woke up yesterday feeling a bit nervous, knowing that I'd be spending the day with my auntie and uncle which meant telling her soon. We had a lovely day, and I didn't think about telling her yet. I figured it'd be easier after a couple of drinks in the evening and I was going to find it harder to get her on her own while we were out and about in Camden. So I tried to forget about it for a while. Then we went out for a meal when grandad joined us, and then all went back to his for drinks and games. It was girls v boys for 'Who's in the bag?' and I'm pleased to say we thrashed them :) then we played some cards and I lost a fair few chips :( Now I'd been hoping that my auntie and uncle were going to stay a bit later, but at about midnight they called to see when a taxi would be available. Just my luck, somehow in London on a Saturday night they could get one to her in 5-10 minutes. I was almost all out of time. I went to the bathroom and tried to gear myself up for what I had to do. I went and stood by the door and tried to motion my auntie to come outside. A bit of confusion ensued when mum thought I wanted to talk to her so my plan of doing it subtly so mum wouldn't really know I was talking to her sister was dead. Eventually I did manage to get my auntie outside. She figured I just wanted a lighter but I told her that yes that was true but also I needed to talk to her. I babbled for a bit about how I was shitting myself about doing this and how I'd been nervous about it from when I woke up and how now she'd booked a taxi it was now or never. She told me 'just spit it out' :) so I said, "Its about what happened at new years" (my mum told her recently, so I know she knows) "the reason it was even harder is because, well, I...don't...like........men".
Basically I won't go into specifics because I'd had a few drinks so can't remember exactly which way round the conversation happened from then on in, but along the way I just said how scared I was about telling mum and dad but that I HAD to tell them because I was told that it WOULD come up in court. (On another note, if it turns out it doesn't come up in court, 'peeved' would not cover it.) Anyway, I won't say that anything she said has dissolved all worry in my mind, because she'd have to be a magician to do that, but it did help. I said that I wanted to tell her because she's the more liberal of the sisters and having been related to mum for longer than I have, obviously, she might be able to help me sound mum out, as it were. Now, I duly discovered that my auntie is beyond the level of cool than I suspected. Turns out she's had daliances with the fairer sex herself, though I'm not to tell mum that lol, and that she'd be more bothered about having a Conservative in the family :)
At one point I said I didn't want her to hate me, and she just told me not to be stupid, so I guess that's that question answered. We also spoke about my sister, and it turns out I'm not the only one who has suspicions about my sisters sexuality. But that's for another day.
Then my uncle called out and said the taxi had arrived, so we had to cut it short. We had a big hug and she told me to text her or call her in the week. Mum looked a bit confused as we all said goodbye, but I just told her I was just having a chat. Then I had another drink and the four of us that were left gambled a bit more.
I was also a bit nervous of seeing my auntie in the morning when they came round to pick up their car, but I needn't have been. They weren't there for long, staying long enough to wish us a safe journey home. We all said goodbye and my auntie gave me another hug and said in my ear, just loud enough for me to hear, though mum looked confused again, to call her in the week. I think I will.

So now I'm sat in an oven car on the motorway, melting, going home. Back to the bunnies :)
I may nap. I may not. I will definately sneeze....ouch, just did. That one bloody hurt!

Next up: all out - the parents!!'n

FUCK.

Final warning; Chapter closed...

...but to be revisited at some point in the future.

Care to explain? Of course.
So this evening I went to my local police station to receive my final warning. All in all it went ok. The sargeant or whoever he was, was a very nice man who seemed fairly sympathetic to my situation, and the seemingly random woman in the corner (who turned out to be from the Youth Offending Team) was equally so. He admitted that initially, upon reading the case notes and statements from the bouncers etc, he was all ready to get me banned from al pubs and clubs in Exeter, but that after reading the background and talking to me, he realised that really wasn't necessary. Something to be thankful for. He did what I presume is the usual "what have you learnt from this?" things, and spoke about how important it is that I learn to balance my medication with alcohol etc. But in general he seemed to understand why what had happened had happened, and expressed his sympathies for the shit life's thrown at me recently.

Then he threw a little curve ball at me.


He first explained that a final warning is basically a "does what it says on the tin" jobby, in that if I get into any more trouble with the police, it'll be a caution and/or prosecution. Then he asked me what I wanted to do in my future life, career wise. I was a little confused but not overly worried, so told him that one of my passions has always been teaching, so that'd be something I'd want to persue in the future.

Upon my saying the word "teaching" he gave the YOT rep a little look. Ah. A problem.

Basically, long story short when it comes to a final warning, although it is not a criminal record and so when applying for normal jobs I wont have to tick "yes" to the criminal question, it is the kind of information still held on me. So when I apply for any job that calls for an extended CRB check, (eg teaching) then it will be available to the employer. I was advised by the YOT rep that in such a case, its much better to 'own up' as it were, tell them before they ask you why you were hiding it when they do a check, and then I'm more than likely to get a chance to explain the situation and how/why it happened. The fact that it happened when I was 17, following another trauma, was basically a case of self-defense that went a little too far and that it was classed as common assault (the lowest form of assault), meant that the sargeant was inclined to think that it would be surprising if an employer were not to act sympathetically about it. Talking to my dad too, he told me that people have got jobs as a teacher with much worse on their records, so I probably shouldn't be too worried. Although that may be the case, there is obviously a part of me that is upset by that revelation. It just feels like one more thing that could possibly affect my future, and that makes me a bit angry as well as sad.

But that aside, that chapter is closed. The 'to be revisited in the future' of this blog title obviously refers to the fact that the warning could crop up on an extended CRB check. But the chapter is closed.

Now for the rest of the fucking book...

Birthday's and bail.

Ok so now it's about time.
As some of you will be aware I recently celebrated my birthday, (though I use term 'celebrated' loosely) and it ended a little unsatisfactorily [sic] with me being arrested.
The next day when I tweeted about it I understandably received a lot of questions, all roughly along the lines of 'What Theee Fuck'. And I decided I'd answer. Because today I make bail.


Basically on my birthday I went drinking down at a local pub with a load of friends, then 3 of us moved on into town and went to a club. Ironically enough I was let in for free and given a free shot cos it was my birthday! We weren't in there for long and then everything kicked off. Now something you have to understand is that after the events of new years eve I hate anybody touching me, unwanted or unexpected physical contact freaks me out now. I hate that I hate it but thats the way it is. On that night (ny) I didn't fight back as much as I should have, I was too scared and I couldn't. So on my birthday, this is what happened.

Yes, I was drunk, it was my birthday and I'd been drinking since 12 pm steadily, but I wasn't wankered. One of the friends I was with was staying at my house and the other lived nearby so we were giving him a lift home, and I got a text from my dad at about 12/1am saying him and mum were outside. I found the friends and we began to leave. I got a cigarette out and had it in one hand and my lighter in the other ready to light it as soon as I got outside and all of a sudden -WHAM.

Something slammed into me out of nowhere and pushed me against the wall. "You're leaving!" shouted a womans voice in my ear. This I knew very well, seeing as I was on my way out, and I told her so. "Yes I am, the exit's that way." I went to carry on in the direction of the door when I was pushed again. Something kicked in and I pushed back. Then it all happened so fast. There was hair pulling on both parts, then there were arms holding mine behind my back and an arm across my neck and face, so I bit down hard. I remember going to leave again and a guy stopped me saying "You just assualted one of my bar staff." and I replied along the lines of "Oh yeah of course you'd believe her she works here. I'm just someone who comes and spends all her money here!" Then I got angry again and the next thing I know hands are all over me and I'm being pushed against a wall. I'm growling and screaming an someone kicks the backs of my legs to get me to the ground. I'm on the floor and pushed right up against the wall, my arms held behind my back and my face against the wall. Suddenly I can hear my dad and he's trying to get these bouncers off of me because he knows how I can't stand people touching me. I remember being pretty much in hysterics and shouting about what happened at NY's and the air was blue with my language. I kept shouting how if they just got off me I'd stay still and do whatever but they pushed me into the floor even more. Next thing I know, I try pulling my hands free once more and experience blinding pain in my wrists as I realize I've been handcuffed. Then I'm dragged to my feet and feel my trousers falling down. I beg the police officers to let me pull them up but they don't. "it's your fathers hands that are on you." they say as my trousers are pulled up. Im then carried off like an animal and thrown in the back of a riot van. On the way to the van I can hear my dad pleading with them, and see a brief flash of my mother being pushed aside as she tries to get to me.

At the station the woman on the desk is a right hard faced bitch. She tells me to take off my jacket and sweatband, put my arms out on the desk and asks me "Have you ever tried to hurt yourself or done so?" I look at my clearly visible scars and say "What do you think." So I have to take my belt off. And empty my pockets of everything which is when I realise my phone has gone missing. I turn and ask the female officer who brought me in if she can get R*****, the officer in charge of my other case. She tells me to take off my shoes.

I'm taken to a cell and I sit on the floor crying and for some reason, praying out loud. At one point I ask God if he's punishing me for being gay, and tell him I'll be straight if he just makes everything stop.
After a while I climb onto the hard bed and try to sleep. 2 minutes later I throw up over the side of the bed and pretty much pass out.

Sometime the next day I meet with the solicitor, am questioned, have finger prints and mug shots taken and then I'm taken back to my cell. The vomit is still there.

Eventually, at what turns out to be 5pm (I was questioned at 11 and told it shouldn't be too much longer before I can go home) I'm released. Everything is given back to me including, (and I found this odd) the two pieces of ID that weren't mine. My parents are there, hug me and take me home.

Since then, my parents have said they're not angry with me, they understand, and more than anything they're worried this is going to send me backwards in my recovery as it were.

Now I'm on my way to the police station to answer bail. I've been told that it's more than likely I'll just be given a caution, due to the fact that this is my first offence, my age and other circumstances. If I am given a caution, I've been told to accept it. If this is the case, there will be a part of me that wants to fight this. I have always had a very high sense of injustice and it has kicked in over all this. I accept I did wrong but not that it was unprovoked and started by me, so I may have to swallow what remaining pride I have left in my life and take it. At least that way this latest fuck up in my life will be over.
We shall have to see.

I've left out a lot of what I want to say but I've said a lot that I needed to say too. I expect I'll be posting again this evening with what happens at the police station.

Update pt1 - 'Friendlings.'

So hello everyone! Apologies for not having written anything in so long, I just haven't really been up to/able to translate anything I'm feeling or anything that's been going on into words recently, but have finally decided to just bite the bullet and have a go!

This first part of my life update (thats right, first part [to be fair I didnt intend this to be as long as it transpired, but what can you do] so settle down with a drink and nibbles...) is on the friend front. I'm not really sure where things are to be honest. After the last friend-related blog entry things seemed to settle down with some of the friends and I was just getting on with things, but then last Thursday happened. Now, I'm not meaning to sound like a moaner but over the past few months I have been really struggling emotionally and NONE of my friends have really cared or fully been there, I've been in the same place everyday all day (at home) yet no one has bothered to call or come round or anything, but last Thursday things went a bit awol. I discovered in the day that a friend's boyfriend (lets say friend A) had broken up with her the previous Monday, and she was going out that night with friend B and C for a few drinks at the pub then on into town. I agreed to come to the pub for multiple reasons, 1) to see and be there for my recently single friend (she has always been one to take break ups hard, and as she'd been with this guy for well over a year we were all expecting her to be feeling low), 2) to see friends B and C who I havent seen for a while and 'patch things up' with B from a few days previously and 3) even my parents agreed it'd do me good to get out of the house for a bit. So I go to the pub, play some pool, chat a bit, drink a bit, friend A seems to be holding up ok apart from the occaisonal "I want to caaaaallll hhiiiiiiim" outburst prompting all of us to dive and cover all phones, and then B pulls me out for a cigarette. Now as you can guess this was just a ruse to talk to me, and so she does. Now bear in mind I'd told them all before I arrived I was getting picked up at 11 as I wasnt feeling great so wouldnt be going out 'on the lash' with them, so imagine my slight annoyance when I'm told that she doesnt think it entirely fair that I'm not coming out to help them 'look after' and to 'be there' for friend A. However, me being me, I relented to her clearly compelling arguements (cough cough) and arranged to go into town. (Cue annoyed parents at changes of plan, understandably). Then when we get into town I get a call from another friend that I didnt even know was out that night, asking if any of us knew where friend H (my best/oldest friend) was because they couldnt find her. Now in light of what happened to me, I (quite understandably in my opinion) went a bit crazy and got angry with them. This lot have a very selfish mentality when it comes to going out and getting into places (as we are all underage :s) whereby if one gets in one stays in, dontcha know. So she'd been left outside and now it was up to us to search for her. Of course I would glady search for her, but I'm scared of being around town on my own after dark and everyone else was convinced she'd be fine (she'd left her phone at a friends house so was uncontactable) and I was also getting "this is supposed to be A's night Holly*, dont worry about H she'll be fine" in my ear. I also recieved a shouty phone call from friend D telling me I was being unfar; I hung up soon after. So reluctantly I agreed to come with the lot I was with to attempt getting into one of the local gay bars (surprisingly, their idea, not mine). On our way there I spotted a familiar looking figure on the other side of the road further on; we all screamed H's name and the figure looked up. Now I am by no means the fastest runner but when it comes to friends (this one in particular; we've known each other since we were foetuses - literally) I'm there as fast as possible, hence I was the first to her and didnt let go of her until everyone else caught up with us and bundled us :) funtimes. So I get out my phone to text friends D, E & F that we've found H only to see a text from D; "Holly* stop being a bitch for once in your life, why are you fucking having a go at us?" etc etc. Naturally, quite angry, I simply sent a rather curt text to her and E simply saying "we've found her." Then we didnt get into the club because it was closed so we started making our way back down the highstreet. On our way down, myself, B and C were walking together and I was talking to C when we suddenly realised B wasnt there. I span around only to see her snogging the face off some random guy. Ok so I'm no prude, but after new years I get really pissed off and worried, quite frankly, when my friends still 'get off with' an average of 3 guys a night each, all guys they've never met before, and always when they're completely trashed. So C and I go to get B as we were losing the others and needed to catch up, only this guy didnt seem to want to finish with B's face anytime soon. Feeling my temper rising, I told him very firmly to get off her. He didn't. She turned round and looked at us somewhat sheepishly. "Whaaat?" she says. "Just leave me alone Holly*". By this point she is quite drunk, understand, and this guy is grinning at me all slimy and innocent which just riles me further. C implores her we need to get going but she doesnt listen. Nor does this guy. So I drag him off her with a little difficulty but when Im angry enough I get strength from somewhere. B protests and so does he, in his own hilarious grinning way, and he goes to square up to me. I get there first and tell him in no uncertain terms to fuck off. He laughs and slopes across the road getting his phone out. C has moved on a bit further and calls to us to hurry up. B and I start walking and she starts moaning at me "whats your problem etc" "if you think I'm a slag just say so". So I tell her, yeah I think you can be a bit of a slag to be honest, but Im not allowed to say that am I cos then Im a bitch. I just worry about you and I dont think you get that. So the two of us ended up having a bit of a shouting match in the middle of the street with that guy still hanging around (so I shout at him to bugger off at regular intervals; "you aint getting any from either of us so fuck off mate" etc. yeah I know, Im 'ard ;) haha) and we argue for a bit more, her not making much sense in her drunkeness and me feeling increasingly out of control and heading towards another melt down. A voice far off calls to B and she toddle off in the middle of a sentence, so I walk the other way and start rolling a fag round a slight corner so I dont have to deal with whoever it is. Soon after I hear B asking some guy for a fag. "How desperate are you darling?" comes the response. Drunk and confused she replies "What? Have you got a fag I can have or not?" Again his lewd response, "I said how desperate are you darling?". Fearing my point about the dangers of random men was about to be proved, I peered round the corner to assess the situation. She seems a safe distance away and there are other people around...including two people I'd rather not have seen; sender of last weeks nasty email F and sender of nasty text D. I can tell you now, the way they both looked at me...it nearly killed me. It was like a mocking look, like "god she's pathetic, and weird, and hateful, and a bitch" etc. Instead of dying, I just burst into tears. I dont know where all the tears came from, but come they did. Any form of cigarette rolling fell from my hands and I started sliding down the wall. As my knees weakened I was aware of someone approaching; ironically enough, it was the first guy who had 'met' B and I had told to fuck off, he came over with his hand outstretched "Hey...you ok?" The next thing I know, I hear F & D - "Oy leave her alone" "Just fuck off" "Get away from her". More than slightly shocked I tried to steady myself, but there was no need. The next thing I hear, instead of them coming to me and asking if I was ok, was F saying to D, "Im so taking some of the credit for that, we got him to leave her alone." At least D had the sense to tell her to shut up. At that, my knees completely failed and a fresh wave of tears swept over me. B suddenly materialised (without a cigarette; she has some sense then) and fell to her knees beside me, trying to put an arm around me. Sobering slightly, she tells F & D "Guys I dont really think this is the right time." They ignore her. "No B we need to talk to her. This isnt fair. We've tried talking to her but theres never a right time is there?" "Yeah and now isnt it either." The whole conversation is pretty much burnt into my mind. The worst part was when, between insults, they told me "We've given you so many chances." That hurt. They've given ME chances? Who's the one grappling with homophobic friends with shit for brains and a space where their hearts should be, at the same time as balancing anti depressants with sleeping pills and the worry of court dates and HIV tests and the fact that because of all this I am going to HAVE to come out to my parents (more on that later) and the fact that I cant sleep even with the pills and I jump at every little noise and I barely leave the house because I cant deal with people and I cant make decisions even as simple as which fucking foot to put which sock on and the fact that Im failing college and probably starting again from scratch next year and that I feel like Im losing everything? I know grammer got fucked up the arse there but you get the point. Everytime they hurt me I go back to them. I forgive them. Even though each time in my heart of hearts I want to talk to them and tell them how I feel, I dont, because they're not good at that. So they've given ME chances? Fuck off. Eventually they say they have to get going to be home on time, but whenever I'm "ready to apologise and sort things out" I know where they are. B goes to say goodbye to them, and I cant stop crying. My heart literally felt like they'd just played football with it. I didnt know what else to do, so I got out my phone and called my parents. One good thing that has come out of all this shit is that my relationship with my parents has improved no end. I love them to peices, they could not have been better at dealing with all this. They were the only people I could turn to. In tears, I begged my dad to come and pick me up. Calmly, (though who knows what horrors were going through his head as his daughter rang home in tears begging for him to come and get her) he asked where I was and said they'd be there any minute. Time could not have passed slower. B came back and I told her I was going home, but then I realised that the people she was supposed to be staying with were long gone, so I called C (because even though I was near hysterical I was in a better state for phonecalls than drunken B) and asked her to send A & H back for B. A & H arrived to get B and were no doubt bemused as to what the fuck had happened. I couldnt stop crying still. Moments later, I hear a commotion, look up and see the welcome sight of my fathers arms. He helps me up, barely able to look at my friends (cant blame him, they were a right drunken state, a disgrace to be honest. more on that later...) and holds me for a minute, though I know he just wants to get me into the car and home as soon as possible. B stumbles with us to the car and dad thanks her as we get in the car. He gets in the back with me and I sob into his shoulder. I was a mess. Again. God knows how mum managed to drive home without asking 5000000000 millions questions, but she did. We got home and I just cried and told them what had happened and how I was not coping with anything at all and needed them so bad. I literally cannot describe how I was feeling at the time. My heart actually hurt. But mum and dad were there. At 3am they listened to me, hugged me when I wanted and held a hand on my shoulder when I couldnt hug, supplied copious tissues and water, and when it was time, mum came and tucked me into bed and rubbed the back of my neck like she used to when I was a baby until I fell asleep.

The next day I just stayed curled in bed for as long as possible until I had to get ready to go to the theatre with mum. Mum and dad really picked me up in the day, so by the time we went to the theatre I felt at least semi-human enough to enjoy the play. The only downer being that D was there too so I avoided her like the plague and mum understood when I asked her if we could basically make a mad dash to leave at the end. Since then a lot of other stuff has happened, but right now it is 0248 and I need some sleep! Apologies for the length of this post, but I cant promise the next ones will be any shorter! I will crack on with those as soon as I can tomorrow, for my sake as well as your entertainment (;) lol) as I feel I might be on a roll now and need an emotion-dump :) classy phrasing I know.

Coming up; anti depressants, police officers and coming out! yaaaaaay.
*sarcy and ironic face* (shut up, thats a possible expression and you know it).

Til tomorrow...