It’s been a while. If you follow me on Facebook you’ll know that I recently spoke about how miraculous anti-depressants have been for me, how I’ve just recently regained my ability to Human. I have a lot of material to go through before I start properly writing again; I accumulated about seventy-five single spaced pages of blog ramblings during the worst parts of my depression, and I’m not sure yet how much of that is usable. In the meantime, here are the answers to some questions you may have.
My mental health:
No, I am not interested in that herbal remedy your buddy swears by. I do not need to try healing crystals or longer walks or yoga. Meditative nature music will not help me (thanks anyway, mental health clinic!). I am happy with my evil pharmaceutical drugs.
We’re set for a preliminary trial in the middle of October. This is usually a single day process. Ostensibly the idea is to determine whether there is enough evidence to proceed to a real trial, but the truth is that it’s also a scare tactic. I’ll have to be cross-examined, and it’s probably going to be awful.
I still have no idea if or when a full trial might happen. Even if it’s decided that we have the evidence to proceed, the prosecution could still choose to pursue a plea bargain (remember that I’m not synonymous with the prosecution, and that I have no say in any of this). Think slow. Think frustrating. The only thing that’s been helpful to me in regards to the legal system is to be very clear with myself and others on what my role is. I am not, legally speaking, on a crusade of justice to bring the wrath of the law down on my rapist. I am, legally speaking, a witness to an alleged crime against society. The prosecution owes me nothing. I owe them my honest testimony, and that is all.This may be a post of its own at some point, so I’ll stop there.
That post I promised about sexual recovery:
Still going to happen! I ran repeatedly into a wall of “how can I talk about sexual recovery when it is clear that I have not recovered and never will, and nothing will ever be the same again, and also Donald Trump. North Korea. Rohingyan refugees. Woe is me. How dare I feel so sorry for myself when people are drowning and burning and being shot? Woe is the world (but also me).”
So. I’m not ready to write The Definitive Post On Recovery, but I am a little more clear-eyed about the ways I have actually begun to recover, and I’m happy to share some tips and some hope. I can’t tell you when I’ll have the post up (there’s at least one in line ahead of it) but it is in the works.
Does this mean I’m going to finally call you back/go for coffee/send you that letter/stop being cranky and boring:
Probably not. As much as I’d like to think I’m cured and ready to be a good friend and upstanding advocate for sexual assault victims, I’m also aware that it’s not exactly clear sailing ahead. Things will get hard again. I might not handle that as well as I’d like. I’ve flaked out on a lot of promises over the last two years, and although I continue to try to do better, that’s not always going to be enough.
Here is a picture of me with my dog, to prove that everything might be fine anyway.
I think that’s all for now! To anyone still reading: thank you. Your support, vocal or otherwise, means a lot to me. As always, I’m open to answering any questions you might have, excepting any that could muddle up my testimony in court (I think this blog does enough of that already). You can pose them in the comments or send me a facebook message, and I won’t use your name when I write about them here.