So, through this whole ordeal with my face being beaten in, I really feel like I’ve had an optimistic view on it. I was able to forgive my attacker right away, able to go into public with my busted-up face without feeling too awkward, able to feel an amazing peace and strength that I know came from God… And I am so grateful for how faithful he’s been; how I very well could have died that night and yet for whatever reason I was saved.
But, in the last few days, I’ve sat thinking “how much longer must this go on?” I still have numbness in my face. My orbital bone and the bone to the right of my eye hurt a lot when I touch them. It almost is looking like the orbital bone isn’t healing right, and is too low on my face… which may mean I’ll need plastic surgery after all…
I’m tired of touching my face and being reminded of that night. I am tired of hearing “wow, that’s looking good” knowing that it’s only because 3 weeks ago my face was black and blue and my eye had so much blood you couldn’t see the white. I’m tired of knowing that whenever I go downtown anywhere I feel an anxiety that I cannot seem to shake, and that everyone is an enemy.
I guess I’m tired of feeling strong. I’m tired of being ok with what happened to me. Where does frustration fit in? Where does pain and hurt and sorrow fit in? I skipped those steps… and now they’re starting to come back to me. I dunno. I am not looking for sympathy. I guess I’m finally done with putting off asking the question “why me?”
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