I Feel Sick

This is a blog written by a lovely lady who wanted to get her story down on paper to share with the community.

Thursday

Around 9 pm tonight the police knocked on our door. My son G’ and I were cooking. My husband ‘P’ had already eaten and was watching tv. All was normal. Life was good. G opened the door. It was the police wanting to talk to P. They went upstairs. I shouted up asking what was going on. They said they were talking to P I listened and heard them saying someone in another part of the country had been talking to P online .. ‘she has clearly said her age’ Our life has fallen apart. The police took P to the police station. They said to expect him back tonight. It’s now 12.24am. He’s not back. I don’t know what I’m going to say, or do. I feel sick and so does G. I love him but he’s ruined our lives. I’m overly concerned with what everyone will think. Will everyone know? Will he kill himself? Do I even know him? He’s going to be a Grandpa soon . What will his family think? He’s a fucking idiot. He’s my best friend. He’s lied to me.. a lot. Maybe every day. Maybe there’s something wrong with me? G was good. Thank god for G. We’ve really let him down. Some people will be angry. Some will blame me. Some will pity me. I’m not sure which is worse. Prison. He might go to prison. He’s too old and ill. It’ll kill him. He’s humiliated me. He’s weak I don’t know what I’ll do. I wish I could talk to someone who’s been through this. Everyone thinks he’s perfect. I can’t talk to my friends. I can’t talk to my family. I feel sick. I’ve done nothing but I’m gonna be punished and so is G. Why is it taking so long? It’s 12.50. If I hadn’t listened in.. I’d have no idea. How can that be right? Trying to watch tv but can’t concentrate. I feel sick. I said I love him. Do I? I don’t even know now. I wish I were dead. G.. he’s the reason I have to carry on. He’s been let down by another man,, just like I have. Bastards. I’ll have to tell my mum. Maybe I’ll make him do it. She’ll be on his side. This will be my fault in her eyes. I’m a constant disappointment. I wish my dad were here. I’m angry at his complete stupidity and disregard for us . It’s 1am and he’s back. Relief He’s been cautioned Has been put on sex offenders register. Good! Keeps saying he’s an idiot. Pathetic. It could have been much worse. He’s lucky. We’re lucky. It’s 1.50. He’s just gone to bed. He must feel like shit. I feel like shit, but I’m relieved. Should I leave him? Right now I feel like walking out the door. Don’t think I’ll sleep. I feel sick. Friday Got up at 4. Greeted by fb posts saying all about what happened accompanied by P’s photo. So it’s out. Everyone will know the vigilantes version. I go up and scream at him to delete his fb. He eventually works out how and does instagram too. My friend messages. She’s seen it. She’s the best kind of friend. I ring my mum to tell her before she hears it elsewhere. She’s very angry. I go for a walk with my friend . I’m nervous in case random passers by know. Back to hers for coffee and therapy.. God knows I need it! Reluctantly head home around 2. Another friend has messaged. Everyone is shocked. What a stupid fucker he is. Talked to P . Suggested he leaves temporarily at least. He agrees. Evening time I tell him to come down and eat. We all force ourselves to eat. He sits with us for the evening watching our usual tv fodder… Eastenders, Dragons Den. All seems normal.. of course it is not and never will be again. Saturday Slept a little last night. Awoke to messages from my 3 friends who know. Thank God for them! P working. I don’t know what to do with myself. Have to pluck up the courage to put the recycling outside the front door. I don’t linger outside. Talk to P. Tell him I think he needs to tell his family and work. He’s scared but can see I’m right I think. Hopefully his family can support him. I can’t do it alone.. My friend messages. More people have seen the online post. I feel sick. I’m scared. Our lives are changed forever. G and I walk up to my mums. It’s good to be out. The house feels like a prison. We go the long way thinking we might be less likely to see anyone. Mum seems ok, better than us. She’s now seen the online post and that’s made her disgusted. We stay a couple of hours and alternate between talking about P to other less traumatic topics. We’re all trying to put on a brave face to one another.. that much is obvious. We walk back the long way too. It’s good to talk to G. He always gives good advice and has a level head. Home. I hang out the washing. Most of it is P’s . The thought crossed my mind that people might be angry at me for doing his washing. I can’t just turn off my feelings for him, much as I might like to. The sun goes down and P leaves the house for the first time since.. He drives his car to a car park to change his personalised number plates back to the generic ones and parks the car away from our house. We hope this will keep it safe until it can be sold. He has now realised he’s going to have to tell his family and colleagues. He’s extremely worried about doing so. He thinks his siblings already know as he’s heard nothing from them. I think they’d have been in touch if they knew. After the shock of finding out I hope they’ll help him. He’s gonna have to face that some may shun him. He thinks they all will. He thinks his life is over. Maybe he’s right. Maybe mine is too. It’s night. I hear talking outside. Men’s voices. I feel sick. I go and look outside. A group of 4 or 5 young men are stood on the pavement under our bedroom window. One is holding a baseball bat. I’m about to ring 999. I look again. It’s not a bat it’s a crutch. He’s got a bandaged leg. The voices seem lighter. I go to pick up my phone from beside my bed. When I look out again they are walking away. The fear is insane. Sunday P starts to talk to me. He tells me everything. It’s not easy to hear but is a thousand thousand times better than what I was imagining. He doesn’t deserve this. My anger is now focused on the vigilante group that set him up. These people are scum. How many lives have they ruined? I cannot stay silent. I will have to find a way to speak out. Someone rings the doorbell. I feel sick with fear. A Jehovahs Witness leaflet falls on the doormat. P is upstairs writing down all he told me this morning. I deleted my Twitter account. I sent this writing to 2 good friends. They are supportive of me wanting to speak out. P has finished writing. I read it. He’s now going to ring his eldest sister and ask her to read it. I don’t envy him. I hope she’s kind. No word from the sister. I hope she says something tomorrow.. anything is better than silence. Silence surrounds us. It’s ominous. The fear isn’t lessening. I feel sick.