Calendar Girl

So another pound has been chipped away. I was quite chuffed with that, I’m in the process of moving house, so my life at the moment is an array of boxes, bubble wrap and stubbing my toe repeatedly, so I feel a bit out of normal routine! 

One of my box towers

I’ve also been so busy I haven’t stayed for the meetings, which I think are really important. However yesterday I did and I do enjoy them. The meeting I attend is full of lovely old ladies, who always have a tale to tell, in fact Marion got very animated yesterday when she declared she wanted to lose weight so she could show off some flesh in the summer!

  Moving house, means I’ve actually gotten round to sorting out lots of old stuff and it was whilst I was rummaging in cupboards that I found this.

 It’s a calendar that we produced whilst I worked at Mansfield 103.2, it was me and my newsreader Mr Richardson. I made him do all sorts of things, including taking part in a school nativity play and singing “Little Donkey”, I’m pretty sure he’s only just forgiven me for that. Doing the breakfast show at Mansfield 103.2 was one of the most fun jobs I’ve ever had and I’m lucky to have worked with some amazing people who were up for almost anything. Joe once co-presented the show in a box (remember the Big Brother task, where they did something similar) we made a Christmas song in 3 weeks and then there were many Mansfield Town related things including presenting a show from a pub round the corner from the Millenium stadium when the Stags were in the play off final in 2004.

  This calendar bought back a lot of memories because I remember being really embarrassed by the photos and thinking I looked fat! It seems ridiculous now, because I really don’t and I’d love to have that figure again.

It was a difficult year for me, it was the start of me being stalked and the beginning of me stuffing my face to find comfort. There are many forms of stalking, in some cases it’s an ex, in others it can be someone you vaguely know, a work colleague, a friend or a stranger. In my case it was a stranger and to this day (or not that I’m aware of) we have never come face to face. It’s weird to think that someone I have never had a conversation with had such a major effect on my life. This man wrote me letters for a year before I took action. At first I dismissed them as ramblings, working in radio, you sometimes come across some slightly odd people. After a year or so the letters got more intense and worrying and I finally went to the police. In 2001, stalking didn’t exist as a crime.  The best the police could do was charge him with harassment. I can’t fault the police in how they treated me or what they did for me and I will always be grateful to Mansfield police.

  I’ve really debated whether or not to write this blog, but I’ll do my best to explain. For a period of time, the police advised me not to drive myself to or from work and to avoid doing things like walking into town or going anywhere unaccompanied. Doesn’t sound like too big a deal, does it? But at the time I was starting work at 5.00am, so my Dad had to get up drive me to work and then go off and do a full days work himself, although there was the time though my Dad came into work with me and accidentally flicked a switch that put us off air, so we did have a few laughs! I then had to rely on my Mum or sister to pick me up, so they had to try and organise their work / college around me. Immediately this man wasn’t just effecting my life, but my entire family’s too. My parents even cancelled a holiday because they didn’t want to leave me and Lucy alone. Not being able to go into town meant I couldn’t do even the simplest thing like nipping to the bank or fetching a sandwich. I also had to carry around a home office alarm just in case. A small white box with a read and black button that I had to press if he tried to "get me", I hated that box, yes it was meant to keep me safe, but it also represented the fact someone else had control of what I was able to do.

  One day I thought “sod it” and walked into town anyway, I got halfway down the street and had a panic attack. If you’ve never had a panic attack you feel like you’re having a heart attack, you can’t catch your breath, you feel dizzy and you have no clue what on earth is happening to you it’s scary. That panic attack was the first of many over the years, when they were at their worst I’d have to stop my car and be sick.

  Eventually this man went to prison and has a lifelong restraining order in place. That wasn’t really the end of it for me, yes I went back to being able to drive myself to work and go places on my own, but if a letter arrived with similar writing, I’d feel sick, if someone I didn’t really know was a bit over friendly I’d back away and I ate. I ate because in my crazy mind I thought if I was fatter and not pretty then no one would want to stalk me again. Eating then became a way of making myself feel better and it carried on after the death of my Gran, my friends and of course my Mum.

  Only now am I beginning to break that comfort eating cycle and it’s hard, really hard at times. Sometimes when I feel a bit down or I’m a bit stressed, it would be really easy to reach for a chocolate bar or a tub of ice cream, but I don’t (well not always, there have been moments) More than anything I want to go back to feeling how I did pre the stalking and I think I’m gradually getting there. I will never forget what happened to me and sometimes he appears in my dreams, but he will not ruin a second more of my life.

  Some of the stuff I've written not even my closest friends are aware of, but this is just a chance for me to thank my family for being there.