When the police attended for severe domestic assault including strangulation, I really thought they were there to help me. I was so relieved to see the officer enter the bathroom where my abuser was actually about to drown me in a full bath.
One of the neighbours had heard my cry for help and they responded with three officers. He maintained after beating me for over an hour that he was simply restraining me and I had become hysterical. Imagine my fear and confusion when the lady officer I was left with said to me, “I think you’re alright, you seem alright.”
The nonchalant attitude of the officers who dealt with me in the first instance, smacks of a culture which thinks women who are beaten deserved it or had a part to play. My abuser was well known to the police for drug offences and they were delighted to be able to gain entry to the property.
One evening after this, the house was raided by police with a warrant to search for drugs. A large amount of cannabis was found and I was arrested alongside my abuser. I was later released however they took my phone, leaving me with a dangerous abuser, and no phone.
It seemed to me that the police were far more interested in any narcotics offences than my safety, and the assault on me was simply a way into the house for them.
I eventually found my courage to leave. I made a break to the train station. I carried everything I could but left most of my life and possessions behind. To my horror, a few months after my escape I received a charge sheet by post; I was accused of ‘possession with intent to supply class B drugs.’
How ridiculous, I have never smoked a cigarette let alone tried or sold cannabis. My only crime was to live with someone who was not the person he had talked himself up to be. Surely, I thought, if I explain to the police about the abuse they will realise I can’t possibly be complicit. I believed they would have the professional knowledge to understand. I was unfortunately wrong. The sergeant took a very sarcastic tone in telling me “Well that’s great then I’m sure you’ll be able to completely clear your name at the crown court.”
After pleading not guilty in the Magistrates’ Court, I attended the Crown Court with a separate barrister to him and the charge was finally dismissed. The words of the judge to the prosecution were something like this:
“I have told you before I have no idea why Miss [name] is stood here in front of me and I have no problem in dismissing her charge.”
It is clear the CPS and police were so desperate to achieve a conviction against my abuser for drugs offences they used me as a pawn. What a dangerous and silly game to play which could have cost me my life, freedom and reputation. This also played right into his hands, as he called me over and over telling me that he was the only one who could save me. It is by the grace of God I didn’t listen and took my own barrister, secretly fought my own case unbeknown to my family or colleagues, and finally cleared my name.
What is also unbelievable, is that I was placed in the dock alongside my abuser when I had already obtained a restraining order. Traumatising isn’t a strong enough word. I still have nightmares about it. The police treatment ruined my sense of self and I felt so thoroughly ashamed and guilty for what had happened. I still suffer with complex PTSD, I am incredibly angry about the years of abuse that I endured and the fact that in the end, the people who were supposed to protect me, put me back in the clutches of my abuser. After almost dying I had to escape twice and could have gone to prison for a crime I didn’t commit.
It is lucky that I am fairly articulate, and I could fight back at the game the authorities were playing with my life, or it could have ended very differently. I felt completely suicidal at times and could have lost the new job I had just got to help me rebuild my life. Thankfully, none of that happened and I was able to heal.