Two years on, to the day, I find myself sitting in a slump on my sofa, watching the new season of Ginny & Georgia and praying this day and the sadness that comes with it ends swiftly.

People don’t prepare you for the healing and dips that come with being a survivor of rape. The flashbacks, the panic attacks, and the worry that comes from a simple touch. If I don’t invite someone into a hug it can send me into an hour’s panic attack on my floor. No one prepares you for that.

I swear to fuck the flashbacks are the worst. I can be having a wonderful sexual encounter with my partner and then boom I’m back there. I am then crying, struggling to breathe and I am right back in that moment. I’m right there in that feeling I felt two years ago. The agonising pain and hurt come flooding back. I am incredibly lucky that my partner knows how to bring me out of this state and bring me back to a safe and loving space.

I feel safer than I ever have before. My current partner and I have moved into a new space and he’s made sure that it’s a very loving and safe space for me. He held my hand this morning and told me “you’re in a home now, nothing like that will ever happen to you again” – queue the tears. I trust roughly five men in my life, everyone else I keep at arm’s length, understandably.

People also don’t tell you how many friends you lose. How many people would rather live in ignorant bliss. I will never ever understand how someone can want to stay friends with, hang out with and protect a rapist. That’s wild. How the boys club can band together and just protect one of their own. I will never forget the text that flashed up on his phone after “did she use the R-word” – yes, I did. I called it as it was.

Barely any of my male friends who know every detail of what happened truly understands the boat I am in. They empathise. They got angry. They swore to protect me if I needed it, but they will never truly understand. Every female that I have spoken to and shared my story with has a version of their own. We are all healing in our own ways. We are all on our own journies, trying to fix what we had broken away and stolen from us. That’s how it feels. I feel like I lost a part of myself that day, one I am desperately searching to find. My trust has gone, my safety has gone, and I am battling to find the part of me that trusted and saw the best in everyone.

Fuck it’s so hard to write this.

For now, I will sign off, drink a bottle of wine and spend some time with my partner eating the mac and cheese/garlic bread (he knows me well) he’s lovingly made me. I will leave you with this song. This song helps me when it’s bad and I just need to cry. It inspired my own song about what happened which will be on the new album we are recording later this year.

For anyone struggling, reach out to someone you love. Reach out to me. You are loved, you are special and you are valuable. If you’re thinking about reporting what happened to you, please do it. If you need access to helplines – drop me a DM and I can send you some.

If you are worried about yourself with your partner or a friend’s partner, you can use Clare’s Law. Clare’s Law, or the Domestic Violence Disclosure Scheme (DVDS), means that anyone can ask the police about a partner. Also, a member of the public can ask about the partner of a close friend or family member. If the police decide to share the information it will usually be with the person at risk.

I love each of you so much. I always will.