A Decade in The Town of Llareggub

  • March 21, 2016, 11:43 a.m.
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I can’t believe it’s been ten years since the night of my mugging. Well, technically, sometime between 7 p.m. and 7:20 p.m. tonight, it will have been ten years.

I’m starting to think about all the ways it’s affected my life, but I really don’t feel like doing that right now. Maybe I should think about all the ways it hasn’t affected my life. All the things I’ve done to overcome most of the trauma.

I remember a few years ago, one sweltering summer night, William took me to a client’s house down the street at midnight. The Johnsons. The old man of the family was having major surgery the following morning, and the family decided late that night that they should have a power of attorney drawn up and update his will, just in case. William got a lot more money than usual for such a thing, because it was so last minute and involved a visit that late. Because William and I at that point had yet to get married, I was his official witness for a lot of those things. The old man kept shamelessly eyeing my legs, since I was wearing shorts, but I felt bad for him and tried to ignore it, because of the surgery and all. One of the women, his daughter I believe, was the chief psychiatrist at this facility downtown, and was chatting amiably with us the whole time. We were talking about how dangerous it had gotten in the city, and William, like he frequently does, told her all about my violent attack while I smiled, kind of embarrassed.

The woman told me after that I seemed like such a happy and well-put-together person and that she never would have suspected anything like that had happened to me. She told me she’d seen lots of people who’d had similar things happen to them have their whole lives ruined because of it, lots of people who had to be committed and could never really lead normal lives after. And she praised me for being so happy. I was kind of confused, but flattered, and it was time to leave a couple of minutes later. I guess that experience is a good indicator that I am doing pretty well, despite a little bit of ptsd every once in a while.

Seriously, though, I just feel like getting out now and doing something fun.

Happiness is a choice, but that choice is made with actions, not words. Words can lead us to have positive mindsets that encourage positive actions, however, and I just want to feel and act positively today.

Ten years ago tonight, I experienced something incredibly violent that shook my world up for a good while after. But I survived, and was able to find so much happiness after, in spite of it. I didn’t realize after that incident, nor could I have realized, that I was less than six months away from meeting the love of my life. So in September, it will have been ten years since the luckiest night of my life. I have that to look forward to, and so much more.

Last updated March 21, 2016

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