The trial hasn’t started. While I was trying to make up my mind about whom to testify for, my psychologist—Lydia Bascombe—presented me with a thought experiment. She told me to walk myself through two possible scenarios for the trial in my mind: one in which I testified for the prosecution, and one in which I testified for the defence. She told me to imagine the best- and worst-case scenarios for both options, and to think them through. She believed that would help me decide which choice I could live with.

The scenario I came up with was a kind of mixture of both options. In that sense, I didn’t fulfil the brief she gave me. But it helped me to realise one thing—this trial cannot be good for me. Participating in it will damage me in ways I can’t begin to imagine. Even watching it or following the proceedings in the media will hurt me.

I don’t know what my father will say if he takes the stand. I don’t know what the defence’s case will be, but I do know that I don’t want to hear it. Whether he denies the charges completely and claims that my assailants acted on their own, or pleads guilty to everything and accepts full responsibility, none of it will make me feel good.

The tiny fragments of mental health I have managed to claw back over the past few months will be scattered by this trial. I may never get them back. This trial is the depth charge that will undo me.

And so I have made up my mind not to testify for either side. I will also not attend the trial, or follow it in the media. I will make myself not care whether my father is convicted or acquitted. My peace of mind cannot be allowed to depend on these events over which I have no control. It can also not be allowed to depend on the illusion of control.

If I testify for or against my father, I might start believing I have control over the outcome. If things don’t go the way I want, I will always believe that I could have done something differently, that it is my fault things turned out the way they did. And so, I am removing myself from this circus. It will continue without me, and I without it.

Lydia Bascombe is impressed with my capacity to make decisions that are good for me.

L. BASCOMBE: You are starting to practise self-care. This is an excellent development. I applaud your willingness to remove yourself from situations that are hurting you.

ME: Do you? Or do you think I’m letting my father down by not testifying for him?

L. BASCOMBE: I never thought that. That was a belief you imposed on me, fuelled by your own guilt and self-doubt.