There is no way I could have possibly talked about this a month or so ago but, I was mugged/attacked on my street in November and it has changed me in significant ways, some that I'm not yet clear on how to articulate.
Tonight, I re-told the story to Tommy and I have to say that telling what happened has a weird effect on me. My heart starts beating very quickly, my mind gets a little blurry as what happened rushes through my mind. I've tried to be willing to talk about it --people tell me that it will help me keep it in perspective-- and I'm thankful that I don't dream about it anymore but, it was scary. It was one of the scariest things that has ever happened to me.
The thing that is hard is that it happened so close to where I live. At night, my neighborhood that I love during the day, becomes the exact location of my scariest memory. My heart beats quickly, I become nervous and glance over my shoulder fearfully at the people around me. Footsteps are a source of anxiety and anyone wearing a hood that partially covers their face scares me.
I don't know entirely how it has changed me but, I know that it has definitely caused me to act differently and even approach my friends differently. I ask for help not because I want to but because I need to because if I don't I'll be paralyzed by fear. I'm regaining a bit of confidence but, I am not the same person that I was and that might be a good thing. In the mean time, I realize how much I need people and maybe the fact that I'm growing more willing to let people know that I need them is also a good thing. There is a type of courage required to let people know that you need them.
Tonight, I re-told the story to Tommy and I have to say that telling what happened has a weird effect on me. My heart starts beating very quickly, my mind gets a little blurry as what happened rushes through my mind. I've tried to be willing to talk about it --people tell me that it will help me keep it in perspective-- and I'm thankful that I don't dream about it anymore but, it was scary. It was one of the scariest things that has ever happened to me.
The thing that is hard is that it happened so close to where I live. At night, my neighborhood that I love during the day, becomes the exact location of my scariest memory. My heart beats quickly, I become nervous and glance over my shoulder fearfully at the people around me. Footsteps are a source of anxiety and anyone wearing a hood that partially covers their face scares me.
I don't know entirely how it has changed me but, I know that it has definitely caused me to act differently and even approach my friends differently. I ask for help not because I want to but because I need to because if I don't I'll be paralyzed by fear. I'm regaining a bit of confidence but, I am not the same person that I was and that might be a good thing. In the mean time, I realize how much I need people and maybe the fact that I'm growing more willing to let people know that I need them is also a good thing. There is a type of courage required to let people know that you need them.
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