Trying To Be Okay

Monday night I was attacked. 

I was walking through a grocery parking lot, my shortcut between my bus stop and home, when she started yelling. 

I didn't know the woman. I didn't walk past the woman. I didn't say anything to the woman. I didn't even see her. And yet she targeted me, shouting , "You're a hater!  You're a hater bitch!"  I walked a little faster and so did she, still shouting those same two sentences at me, only now she started throwing things at me. I saw a family and walked closer to a them, hoping they'd help or at least the woman would stop. She didn't and they did nothing. They chose not to see the fear in my eyes. 

When a bottle hit my leg, I turned around and said "I did nothing to you," and she unwaveringly shouted her anthem at me and threw a bottle at my head.

There was a security guard in the grocery store, so I figured I would go inside for help. Only when I got nearer, a man by the door observed the situation, I assume looked at her skin color and then at mine, and assumed I was at fault; that I had performed some sort of hate crime to spark this. "Get her!" he shouted to the woman; and I no longer felt like the grocery store would provide me shelter. I didn't want either of them waiting for me when I came out. 

So I raced home; too panicked to feel the full scope of my fear, praying the woman wasn't following me.  I called the cops along the way, hanging up when I was safely in my apartment. 

I already have PTSD so I'm used to dealing with trauma and I'm a woman so I'm used to having to fear walking alone..... But I have never been this afraid so close to my home. 

I still don't know how to handle it. 

I had Tuesday off, and I planned not to leave my apartment. Apparently my body got the message as I slept 16 hours, which I'm sure was its way of coping with the stress. 

I work early today (Wednesday) so I figured I would let myself buy an über to work. But with an upcoming move, I really didn't want to spend my money and I could get to the bus by walking the long way around where the incident occurred...

And I figured now is as good a time as any to build up my courage.

So I walked with every charm that I could find. Dark protective stones filled my bra, a chunk of black tourmaline clutched in one hand hand, a lucky die in the other. 

The walk was quick and not entirely frightening until I spotted a bunch of police officers across from my bus stop.  Their presence made me fear that someone nearby was a threat.  So I decided to walk quickly around them; and yet one loudly instructed "walk with your head up." 

If only she knew the extent of me wishing to keep my head down. Perhaps that was the sole trait that made my attacker target me.... I kept walking.  Fortunately it was just a power line issue and eventually my bus came. 

I thought I was out of the woods; until I realized I had forgotten about another downside of trauma: just because I'm no longer near where the incident occurred, that doesn't mean I feel safe. 

I held my breath every time someone sat beside me on the bus (who ironically chose me because I looked the most harmless in their eyes). I jumped each time the door closed. 

And that's all I've got. I'm still on the bus, I'm still trying not to shriek or throw up, and doing all I can to feel like myself.

Still, I know I am lucky.  This situation could have been so much worse in so many ways.  

It's enough for me to solidify needing to move, but I can't help but think of those who can't. Those who face this every day, on their way to their homes, or even in then. 

I did. 

I faced and angry, object-throwing, irrationally-shouting, insane woman for all of my adolescence; and (like I'm doing now) I got the hell out of there.

So my heart goes to those who can't leave. 

I run in hopes that physical distance from the incident will help spark emotional distance; but that's just part of who I am. I am a nomad. There's a reason I have a hermit crab as a pet. 

I can't imagine those that stay.  All of us are survivors, but they're still in the trenches. 

This world is a terrifying place and as always, that's why I'm trying to fix it. My efforts may be plugging one hole on a boat of Swiss cheese, but at least it'll keep us afloat a little longer. 

And as always, I hope that by sharing my story, you'll feel less alone in yours. 

For those if you are battling your own traumas: I send you my love. It's not easy, it feels like it'll last forever, but all that matters is celebrating those moments that you do feel safe and remembering them when it feels like comfort will never again exist. 

And for us all, let's decide now that when we are witnesses to this kind of hard, to do something. Anything. Any kindness would've helped me in that moment. Anything to keep the victim from feeling alone and that this is okay.