Today is the First Day of my Life

Today marks one year since I was brutally assaulted. Many of you have forgotten about it. Many of you think I should be better by now. Many of you have forgotten entirely. We all have lives and situations that prevent us from keeping up with others. It isn't selfish. It is life.

When this assault happened, I was in a usually busy area. It was early, but dark. It was very cold, unlike today. I was wearing a zip-up hoodie and my boots, walking just a bit to get to my car after having a meal. No alcohol. No drugs. A simple night that was made a bit funny because many people were joking about how I never go out - which I certainly don't now. Many people then (and now) want to know where it happened so they can protect themselves. I understand that, but the truth is, it doesn't matter where it happened. It can happen anywhere. Any town.

I was wearing a small back-pack that I've had since college. All I had in it was  my wallet with no cash, some quarters and lip gloss. My car keys were on my belt, as I always have them. I was grabbed from behind by my back-pack, violently. There are only certain things I remember, now. I was pushed to the ground, pulled back up, smashed into a fence against my head and face, pushed down on the ground again.

I am not sure how long I was laying on the ground in a pool of blood. My jaw was cracked, my nose was broken, I had two black eyes, I had several broken ribs and, my head was gushing blood.

When I looked up, there was no one there. I had the vision of the person who did this to me, but I didn't know what to do. So, I ran, somehow. I ran to my car with blood dripping all over me. My legs hurting from scraps. I got into my car. I didn't see anyone. I didn't know who to ask for help.

I got into my house, somehow. before I did, I fell down and there was this terrible, bloody mark by my door. It rained later, and washed it away. If only it was that easy with everything.

I got into to my home, and fell down again. I was so stunned when I woke up, I had no idea what to do. So, I crawled into bed. There was blood everywhere. I do not wish to talk about the things I had to do before that - cops/emc. They were very helpful, but that is another very serious story that I will write. In the first few weeks, I pushed myself as much as I could. That was a bad idea. I thought I could do a lot of things that I couldn't do and still can't do.

Because of who I am, I thought "I'll be done with this quickly". That is not the case.

I stay in my home, as safe as I can, because I don't feel comfortable going out. I have become weaker, physically, over the year because I can't walk very well and I weigh around 80 pounds. This is because of atrophy and anxiety, among many other things. This is all due to the assault.

I don't post photos of myself to show I am getting better. I post them because, honestly, I'm getting worse, despite all my attempts and doctors. I did not think I would be here at this point. I thought I would be working again, living my normal life. Taking baths. Eating. Going on runs. These are not things I can not do. I am doing everything I can do to get stronger. My doctors are doing everything they can do to get me stronger.

I am impatient. I want to be better right now. I want to eat a big bowl of mac and cheese and not puke ten minutes later. I want to sleep without being afraid. I want to be warm and safe.

I have been carrying these feelings around for a year. They are feelings of physical pain, but they are feelings of mental pain. I feel forgotten. Lost.

The positive thing I have found through all of this is that I know there are things I can give to the community. There is not much I can do, but I donate when I can. I have also realized who really care about me. I have received so many hats, hoodies and things that mean SO much to me. I am very thankful for that - more than you all know.

This is a huge healing process. I will never be the same. My life has completely changed. That said, I'm not going to give up. I am going to keep going, but I want people to realize how hard it is for me. It will always be here, even when my body heals, there are a lot of other things that I will always have on my mind.

My love and thanks to all of you. I wrote this to tell my story and support people who may have gone through similar situations. Emotionally and physically. Pain is pain, and I hope we can all heal together.