Gone
Today was a hard day.
It marks the end of a decade punctuated with trauma, crime, grief and the long and arduous road to a sense of normality. The long, sleepless nights, jumping at every bump, the days filled with such anxiety, I would dry retch each morning and feel hot and cold sweats break out all over my body. I had experienced the depth of grief-filled heartbreak and the void it left in my life for so long.
Today, my rapist left prison a free man.
He will embark on a newfound life, full of possibility before him. I truly hope he makes the most of the opportunities available to him and turns his life around in a genuine and earnest servitude of others. The very small solace I will get, is (hopefully) knowing that despite the wake of destruction he left in my life, no other woman will suffer at his hands as I have.
I have spent years in the past decade, on the tumultuous road to recover from the remnants he left me with that day and in truth, I will spend a lifetime more trying to rise above it. One of us, at least, received a life sentence for his crime.
I am still a great advocate of restorative justice, passionate about my work and developing B.R.A.V.E: Building Restoration And Victim Empathy.
But today, is just a hard day.
You see, despite my best efforts, I was never able to receive the restorative justice sessions I so desperately wanted. There was always an issue: a lack of funding, poor communications, no processes in place, etc. The amount of issues uncovered while trying to go through this channel was astounding. It made me feel as if I simply didn’t matter. It made me feel insignificant. Demoralized.
Luckily, I was able to write a couple of letters back and forth to him before his parole date, which gave me some hope that all my efforts had not been in vain. That he would take tangible steps to turn his life around and more importantly, that no one else would be hurt by his hand. The fight even to get that, was formidable, and while successful, it doesn’t leave one feeling like celebrating. I am just too tired. The constant flurry of emails and phone calls that take place just for me to plead my case in order to get a semblance of closure around what had happened is utterly draining – and I was fortunate enough to have had some good people in my corner. I know that I will come back again, to take up for those who face this road, to fight the good fight and to pursue victim advocacy with the vigor and passion I am capable of, but today – today, I am tired of the fight.
Today was a hard day.