Going to the police

[TRIGGER warning for mention of and thoughts around memories of childhood sexual emotional and physical abuse, reporting abuse and so on; also as I wrote I know I’ve gone totally crazy and this post could be frightening.]

I’m waiting for the police to call me. A DC called me earlier in the week and we talked about making a statement reporting the abuse. (I’ve another post I haven’t uploaded yet about how this all came about – will upload that as soon as I can. ) We decided I’d take a few days to think and the DC would ring me back this evening about 7.00 to talk again. He hasn’t rung yet. But I can well understand they’re busy and have emergencies to deal with. I’m just on edge and really unstable today.

However, my decision is made. Funnily enough my friend’s actions yesterday, when she knew I was in pieces and really needed help and had asked her please did she just have a little time to talk about how to get through reporting what my mother did to me – she messed around the time of the meeting, then still left me waiting 20 minutes, made sure we had no privacy and very little time so I couldn’t talk about a thing and then left me when I was really distressed and unsafe (why exactly do all this? Why not just refuse to meet? Why trick me again and pretend to be there, drag it out and string me on more and more desperate?) – all of that has crystallised my decision in my mind.

This is yet another time nobody hears me and nobody is there when I’m most desperate. When I try to tell them about this it gets brushed off, I’m not allowed help, I just have to keep going and be independent, nobody will listen, they say I’m making impossible demands. … when I have had absolutely everything I needed to be safe taken away then I’m thrown out on my own and told just get on with it you’re responsible for your self. … it’s a really sick game.

Nobody will help me. They’ve tricked me.

I don’t want anything to do with them again. I’m not letting them near me.

I will report what she’s done. I found out she attacked a paramedic, attacked my father twice at least, as well. So what she did to me she is capable of to others too. If others can be in danger from her it makes some difference too. I thought perhaps it was only to me. She had so many delusions about me. The things she did were always bound in some way to those. That we were being watched, that I had a special intelligence and knew her thoughts exactly and had plans to punish her, that I was causing my father to have a heart attack or her to be paralysed, that people had done things to me and she had to check it out and then show me what a woman I’d be taken to would do when she examined me – that was her way in when she started putting things inside me. Was it all bound to her sickness? How can we know? Her intent wasn’t the same as an abuser who take sexual pleasure from it if she was sick and doing it because of weird beliefs? What does that mean? Was it a crime still?

And so much was emotional. Does that count as a crime? She trapped me and trapped the family and isolated me totally and did quite a good job of the same with my father. She made false allegations about my father. She told me I was saying and showing my father had abused me sexually unless someone else had done it and she told me I had to tell her what had happened or that was what it meant. They’d be taken away and go to prison and all because of me. So I had to tell her. I had to stop it. I lied but I had to stop it. I could have got someone else in trouble with my lie though. I was 6 or 7 I should have, must have known. I took it back as soon as I made myself dare. I took it back and I hate myself since. I hate the foul thing I am to do that. I know I invented something – so I can never trust myself and never be sure because I did that. She told me for years how evil I am inside. If i lied like that perhaps I could be. It’s not perhaps. I am.

But she encouraged me in the story. She didn’t go right to the police. She told me I’d be taken to be examined. She kept coming back to me to get me to tell. She showed me books and wanted me to draw pictures. Something is not right. Something is not the normal action of a frightened or worried parent. Was she actually sick getting some pleasure from it? That thought has never been in my head before today.

I’m going to the police. They will have to listen when they take my statement. Perhaps they will tell me. Perhaps they will find the sick thing in me and if I’m evil they’ll punish me. They’ll take me in. They’ll tell me if it’s abuse or if it’s me that’s the sick one and invented in some twisted part of my mind. They’ll tell me if she was sick or if she was abusing me. She did hurt other people and maybe at least I can stop that. I need the answer now because I am going mad with this and this will be how I get it because everyone else I trusted has decided I don’t get any help and have to be left. I think the police are my very last hope now.


6 thoughts on “Going to the police

  1. Please keep us updated. I think you know deep down in your gut that what you experienced is real. You wouldn’t have gone this far in making a statement. Ask the policeman/woman if they think it is normal to feel you may be evil and think you are in the wrong.. They may just surprise you with confirmation that this is serious. None should be abused and it needs to stop. It should have stopped the first time it happened. xxx

    Liked by 2 people

      1. I will post an update on this soon…
        Thank you for your support Daisy. You really help me. It means all the more that you are helping me because the very few friends that knew (outside of this blog) have not supported me in this.
        When I saw the duty psychiatrist when I was in the hospital at the weekend he was kind and recognised it was serious – which never fails to surprise me every time someone does recognise it is serious… he was kind and that helped.
        Ginny xxx


  2. I have been where you are. Involving police is very ‘hit & miss’ When I went the police route it was a horrific nightmare; I dont want to lie to you,but I don’t want to frighten you either. Basically they thought I was a mad woman and things like that dont happen in a middle class family!! I have since found out that police officers are getting better training involving abuse, ritual abuse,historical events etc and the differing mental health conditions that nearly always accompany severe trauma in childhood. So I truly hope & pray that you get assigned a very nice,sympathetic & well trained officer. You are very brave .


    1. I’m so so sorry that was your experience. That’s dreadful beyond words. I can only imagine how you were left… I’ll reply to you properly tomorrow I’m sorry for not writing more now xx


  3. I read your blog and so much of the time its as though I’m reading my own journal, I hope you don’t find that offensive? The way You write is incredibly personal & powerfully articulate . You are truly courageous. I just wanted to share with you how much I connect even with the difficult relationship with your friend…believe me,I feel your pain & confusion there of needing so much to be loved & wanted but feeling angry & needing to manipulate a situation. I admire the way you are so brutal in your honesty. I think you are great 😊 xx


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