Survivors' Story

YOU ARE NOT ALONE

Hello There,
My name is Nikki and i too am a survivor of childhood abuse. I have read the stories on this website from other survivors of abuse and my love and well wishes are with them all.
Last year i decided to take action against two of my abusers, and last week 24th April 2008 my cases finally came to an end, both were sentenced.       
I’d like to let people know about my ordeals, the effects it had on my life as a child and as an adult. I also want people to know about my court case experiences and the knowledge i gained from them.  Maybe by telling all someone may decide to step out and take action against their abuser.

My innocence is stolen
Abuser > James Greaves-Birch...known as Jimmy Birch.. of Widnes, now Helsby.
My mother and father took Jimmy under their wings in 1979 after he had been released from a remand centre; little did they know that their caring natures would place me & others in such danger. I was 6 years old when the abuse started, he was 10 years my senior.
Jimmy was trusted to care for me and my siblings whilst my parents went out.  At first it was really exciting to have Jimmy stay with us, he was fun and often joined in our games. I looked up to him, to me he was a new big brother and i was proud to call him that.
As the weeks past i started to see a different side of Jimmy, i remember him stealing money from the gas meter, he had a handful of 50 pence coins and gave me one to keep me quiet. The next day i was in my element stuffing my face with sweets, but afterwards i could hear mum crying about the money going missing and fretting about how she would get enough together to pay the gas man. I was so overcome with guilt and angry with Jimmy for taking it all.

Mum and Dad continued their Friday nights out and Jimmy continued to babysit. He always let us watch TV for a while made us a cup of overly sweet tea before bedtime, i didn’t realise at the time that it had been laced with sleeping pills. I would often fall asleep on the sofa and Jimmy would carry me up. One night i woke in my mum’s bed and could feel somebody between my legs underneath the sheets, they were having oral sex with me. I was so shocked that i froze, i didn’t have a clue who it could be and i dreaded to think who would do something like this to me. As long as i stayed still and quiet i wouldn’t have to face them. After about 15 minutes it was over, i could feel them sliding out the end of the bed, i remained still and listened hard as he crawled across the carpet to the door.  Just as i heard the door being closed i quickly glanced across and seen Jimmy. I couldn’t believe it was him, i didn’t know who it was but i never expected it to be him.

The next day i went downstairs. Jimmy was sat watching TV, i never looked at him as i walked past but i could feel him looking at me. Jimmy acted normally towards me and i began to think I’d been dreaming. I continued to think about that night, wondering if it was real or not. The week after i realised it was not a dream, this time i found myself on the living room floor with my nightdress pushed up my legs and once again Jimmy was there. This time he was part naked and playing with himself. When he noticed i had woken he nervously fixed his clothes and told me i had been sleep walking, he took me back up to bed and left the room. I just lay silently crying, wishing my mum to walk through the door.
I continued to wake up being abused by Jimmy; i must have woken in every room in the house apart from the kitchen. As the abuse continued it grew worse. Jimmy was now encouraging me to take part; he would hold my hand against his penis and guide me to masturbate him. On a few occasions he forced his penis into my mouth, it made me retch. i tried to keep my mouth wide open. It was sickening to me as a child to have his penis in my mouth, to me it was something used for the toilet and i was now feeling riddled with germs.
My worst memory was when he first tried to rape me. That night i was taken out of my bed and carried downstairs. There he placed me on a reclining chair in the living room, he proceeded to insert his fingers, he had done this many a time, always telling me that he could tell i enjoyed it. I just stayed quiet i never knew what to say to him and even if i cried he’d just tell me to relax and enjoy it. As he gained more confidence in his indecent acts that night, he pulled me to the bottom of the chair lifting my legs over his shoulders, i could hear him breathing louder than usual. Next he pushed his penis towards me; i could feel him pushing against me. I was so frightened because he was hurting me, i didn’t understand what he was doing and i thought he was going inside my body, it sounds stupid because he was but when i was young i never knew anything about sex, but i knew a little about organs inside your body and how these kept people alive. I thought i would die that night if he succeeded in his rape attempt. He never did because i screamed the house down through sheer fright. Jimmy continued in vain to rape me but never succeeded due to my outbursts of hysteria.

The abuse from jimmy continued for 5 agonising years. Before he moved in i was a happy go lucky little girl, but he soon changed me into an insecure and frightened child. He threatened me from the start that if i told anyone i would be taken away from my family and put in a naughty girl’s home, i wouldn’t see my family until i was released at 16 years of age. Needless to say i believed him as most children would. My childhood became an indecent secret and my mental health suffered, i could sit and pull my hair out for hours, the more hair i had in my hand the better i would feel. I would watch the other children playing outside and wish i was like them (NORMAL) but i felt far from normal and i wanted to hurt myself so badly. At times i would sit on the windowsill in my bedroom and bang my head against the window, if it broke i would fall to the patio and people would know i was hurt. I became so destructive at home and at school that i was sent to a psychiatrist, and still i didn’t talk. Eventually i was sent for a brain scan to investigate my sudden change in behaviour, still they found nothing. But how could they, sexual abuse does not show up on a brain scan.

Jimmy eventually moved out and married around 21 years of age to a lovely woman who i was very fond of. They eventually divorced due to his many affairs. (HE NEVER COULD KEEP IT IN HIS PANTS) afterwards he met another lady but continued to have affairs and eventually went off with her best friend who he ended up marrying.
Soon after his second marriage he decided to build his life and set about making a career for himself. He was successful and the job employed him to fly all over the world, but rumour has it that he used a lot of people to get there.
 My family became proud of this man who had changed so much and built on his life so successfully. At family functions i would listen as they spoke about his success, “How proud they were of him” it angered me at times knowing they were talking about a selfish, dirty piece of scum who took away a child’s innocence. But i knew they didn’t know what i did and so my mouth stayed closed.
Jimmy enjoyed bragging about himself. I remember listening to him talk about his next business flight to Hong Kong; i sat with an unwanted smile on my face listening attentively as he spoke with passion about his successful career. My thoughts were bitter towards him. “How dare he speak so vainly of himself” he left me alone in the world as a child, he used me for his own gratification. He was more than self-deluded he was malevolent.
I was angry with Jimmy, he was getting on in life, ignorant to the damage he caused, and the damage that lived with me deep inside, the damage which resurfaced over and over again year after year, the damage that led me to consider suicide time after time, from a child to an adult. He was successful wasn’t he??????????????????????? He was successful in destroying a huge part of my life. And so i decided to destroy his.

Paedophile. > Alan Ditchfield...formerly of Widnes, Cheshire.
Whilst i was being abused by jimmy i was also abused by another man called Alan Ditchfield. He lived on his own in a flat and worked at the local youth centre.  He really was an odd looking man; he had piercing evil eyes, fuzzy hair around his head with a large balding head. Yes as a child he looked the beast that he was but my childish innocence led me to believe differently.
Alan spoke to all the kids in my area; he often brought us pop on summer’s days. He seemed nice enough regardless of his appearance, I’d seen worse. Alan was a slimy character, he would ask the little girls to do hand stands to see who could stand on their hands the longest. He would time us, he seemed genuine enough but how would we know we were just little girls who never thought for one second he was eyeing up our private parts. It didn’t take long to realise what a pervert he really was.
 It was summer of 1982 and i was out playing with my friends near Alan pervert Ditchfields flat. Alan was in his kitchen window like he usually was when eyeing up little girls. He often waved to us, but this day he came down and beckoned us over. We stood chatting to him for quite a while, he always asked about our gymnastics and being very interested we would talk for ages.  Eventually i became desperate to use the toilet and began to head home. Alan asked where i was going, so i told him i needed to nip the toilet and said I’d be back soon. Little did i realise this was music to his ears, all his Christmases were about to come at once. So pervert shouted me back, “use my toilet” he said, “were all friends here” (BASTARD) i knew something didn’t feel right, maybe this was due to what was happening at home with BRAIN DICK JIMMY. But being me and not wanting to hurt his feelings i accepted. “Go upstairs 1st door on the right” pervert said. I began to climb the stairs when Ditchfield stopped me, “don’t lock the toilet door it’s broken, don’t want you to get locked in do we” (BASTARD) i continued quickly upstairs and proceeded to use the toilet like a race against time. I hadn’t even finished when i heard footsteps on the stairs, i fixed my clothes as fast as i could and attempted to leave the bathroom but a paedophile stood in my way. “You’ve not washed your hands have you” he said. I could see a different look in his face. I realise now it was that of a sexual appetite. I was never his friend i was simply his prey. Alan guided me towards the sink and began to lather my hands with soap whilst rubbing himself against me. I was terrified, i remember my voice stuttering as i asked to go home. He just turned me around and sat me on the end of the bath ignoring my cries. He pushed open my legs and began his painful sordid assault. Penetrating me with his fingers and tasting his prize. He tried to encourage me to take part, but all i kept saying was “i can hear my mum shouting, i have to go home”. When the ordeal was over i was free to leave, but his final words would live with me forever. “Tell anyone about this and one day you will go home to find no mum and dad”. It’s sad to say i believed him. I never realised the threat was manipulation to save his own demonic skin.
In January 2008 Alan Ditchfield formerly of Widnes pleaded guilty to his crimes and was sentenced to 9 months imprisonment. In 1982 Alan Ditchfield served a prison sentence for child abuse against 2 other little girls. The police came to my house at this time and asked me if i had been a victim of Alan Ditchfields, i denied all in fear of losing my Mum and Dad.

About me
I was sexually abused by 4 individuals from the tender age of 3 until i was almost 12. Three of my abusers assaulted me on just one occasion, but the impact and inner turmoil of it all gave me memories which would last my life time. I have only written about 2 of my abusers with details, this is due to successfully prosecuting both. The remaining perverts i have not been able to prosecute due to not being able to identify one, and the other because my witness was another victim of his who would rather forget the experiences in which she suffered, and so i must accept her decision and one day who knows she may change her mind (Hopefully).
 I have spent a lot of my adult life in and out of hospitals with mental health problems. It’s been 3 years since my last admission, 3 years since my last suicide attempt. That does not mean to say i have recovered, for i know i probably never will. My past will live with me forever, but i have changed the way i think about my childhood abuse, it’s no longer a secret but a lesson, it’s my education to do with whatever i want. And for me it will be used to help others, it will raise awareness and i will ensure it becomes useful and not negative like it has always been. I can’t change my past, but i can change my perception of it.

I have been studying for a degree in social work studies and childhood and youth. Throughout my first year at university and whilst attending my lectures on child abuse, i began to notice the similarities i had with other abused people, noticing this i began to research child abuse and the effects it has on a person as an adult. I was so relieved to realise and understand that the way i perceived myself as being different from others was quite natural. What i mean in saying this is that i seen myself as an irrational person, i overacted to difficulties in my life. I believed i was bad even when the fault was not my own. If i send an email or text message and the person does not reply, then to me i have done something wrong and i begin to worry and eventually draw on my inner anger, that is when i begin to seek answers as to why they are ignoring me, most of the time they simply had not received the message, i don’t usually except this and start beating myself up with obsessive thoughts of dislike towards myself, at times this has led to lowered self-esteem and self-harm. I never would have admitted this (not in a million years) but now i know it’s quite normal as a survivor of abuse and so it is much easier to say, i still suffer these problems today, but i do try and rationalise with myself now and i am slowly getting better

I never knew what to expect once i gave my statement to the police, i just decided i had to take each day at a time and not let myself think ahead about what might be. What’s the point of causing yourself worry if you don’t know what’s going to happen or how people will react to the nature of this news which has been tucked away for such a long period of time? This would obviously cause you unnecessary stress and will not help in any way shape or form, but it’s easier said than done.
During my court cases i learnt quite a lot and so i wanted to share a few things with people who may be considering taking action against their abuser. Firstly I’d like to say “HAVE TRUST IN YOURSELF” if you are a survivor of childhood abuse and you want to take action then remember these few words........ YOU ARE NOW IN CONTROL...............they may have had power over you as a child but remember you now have that power.
SUPPORT COMES FROM THOSE AROUND YOU, YOU WILL GAIN STRENGTH FROM THESE PEOPLE
When i finally let my family know what had happened to me as a child they were in shock, after all it was an older cousin who sexually abused me for 5 years. My closest relatives stayed by my side throughout the whole court case and some took to the stand as witnesses for me.

It is not a nice experience giving evidence in court. I had given consent to Jimmy’s solicitor to have access to my mental health records. I had nothing to hide and the shame i over my mental health had long gone since i started studying my life experiences and effects. However i was not quite prepared for cross examination as i didn’t have a clue what would be thrown at me. But they used my mental health against me; according to the barrister my life was nothing more than an illusion, none of the abuse had took place it was all a dream. This angered me and i let loose and began explaining to the jury what Post traumatic stress was and how it effects people even years later. The barrister even brought up a little black man who would appear in my bedroom and changed my name to Katie. i was only 3 years old when this happened, i had been abused during that time, so i do put it down to trauma, maybe this little black man i created was my way as a child of protecting myself from being abused again. Who knows? But what i do know is a lot of children invent imaginary friends. So I’m no different to anyone else even if it’s sadly used in court. Many things came up in court during my cross examination, they even tried to pinpoint my PTSD to a fire I’d witnessed in which a friend had died. It’s sad how they rip your character apart but it’s their job to do that, and that’s why It’s very important to tell the truth, you don’t need to exaggerate, by doing this you will be putting yourself at risk of being made a liar, therefore the defendant has a better chance of being found innocent. (WE DON’T WANT THAT) Remember the truth can always be remembered but lies are often forgotten. It doesn’t matter   if you can’t remember all the details in

Order, they may seem foggy and hazed this is quite normal, most childhood survivors have gone years before reporting these incidents to police. In my case it was over 24 years before i decided to prosecute. My memories were scattered, there were so many incidents to remember and many of my assaults were repeated, how I could possibly remember in which order things happened, but what I do remember is that they did and that’s all that matters “REMEMBER YOUR THE VICTIM” and you have a right to see “JUSTICE DONE” as I did.

I’m willing to listen and support you in any way i can.

BEST OF LUCK TO YOU ALL