the incident

That is what I've been calling it - The Incident.

Mugging sounds like I got hurt. Armed robbery sounds too scary. The Incident it is.

I took Annie's advice and have gotten professional help dealing with it. I know something like that brings up old memories. As it was happening I was silently cursing them - in that incident a flood of other emotions came welling up. Jerks.

I've taken more time to hang out in my house to get reacquainted and feel comfortable being by myself. I've been patiently talking about it to people who are curious. I realize that it didn't just happen to me -- but to my neighborhood, my single friends, family and people that care about me.

I've gotten my share of crazy questions and observations, "Has it scarred you for life?" and "Are you going to quit writing about music?" and "Are you going to move?" My favorite - "Are you going to get a boyfriend now?" - Humm, yeah - that was the missing piece in my attracting a man....

It has changed some of my habits. I'm back to a smaller bag, carrying just ID, enough cash for the night. My phone and a truck and house key in my coat pocket. I've started wearing pajamas - I had a couple of pairs that I'd wear if I was traveling or had house guests, but as a rule I slept in nothing or a tee shirt. There is something incredibly cozy and safe about hunkering down in flannel pjs. I've started leaving lights on in my house - a new habit that I hate. I do a better job of letting people know where I am, even if its just a Facebook update.

I continue to discover things that I lost. A sock cap, my Guild and work name tags, grocery store discount cards and business cards. I'm rebuilding my phone number base in the cell phone - it's been fun trying to figure out who's sends me text messages. The New Year's Eve "gappy nude rear" is still a mystery.

And the good has outweighed the bad.

A brand new Jesus key chain arrived anonymously though the mail and the Hatch Show Print was mailed to the Red Key for me - thanks Mr and Mrs WYA. Both packages made me burst in to grateful tears. In the photo the keys are in the ash tray at the waitress station at the Key - I put my keys there to discourage people from smoking there. I snapped that photo with the loaner camera that a friend brought to me. I've had friends hand me house keys, offer to get up at what ever hour to follow me home, Marigold gave me a new purse, Rachel and her fiance gave me a gift card to replace my makeup and I've gotten lots of messages and well-wishes from strangers (I wrote about The Incident for the Gazette). And I could feel the love from all of you - thank you.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. The Incident didn't kill my spirit or faith in my community. It definitely made it stronger.