1. “I Rarely Take Any Risks”
My father tried to kill me when I was a kid and about 15 years later I was robbed at gun point twice, working as a manager of a retail store. I’m hyper vigilant and paranoid of most strangers when I’m by myself but otherwise incredibly grateful to be alive. I don’t ever put myself in compromising situations and I rarely take any type of risks. I think the biggest impact it had was it motivated me to get out of the ghetto situations my family was used to and I was probably destined for. I put myself through college after that and now I’d consider myself middle class and invisible, no longer a target.
2. Moved Overseas
If I’m in public, I can’t be in the dark. If I’m in my (locked) car, or a hotel room, I’m somewhat OK, but extremely on edge.
About 16 years ago, me and a friend were out to get some junk food for a LAN party (A group of people gathered together to play multiplayer games) and we encountered a few people demanding our wallets or else they’d try something. We handed the wallets over, they decided we didn’t have enough.
We tried to run from them. This didn’t work. They pulled out their knives and stabbed us. My friend didn’t survive.
I’d rather not go into the long version of events, but it took a long time for me to get over it. I moved overseas, and that helped a lot. It felt like I was leaving the whole experience behind.
3. A Friend With A Knife
My best friend got pretty drunk one evening and decided to take out his angst on the world with me. He got very argumentative and tried to pick a fight in his living room and nothing anyone could say would calm him. After much screaming and shouting on his part he ran into the kitchen and grabbed a large kitchen knife. His girlfriend followed him back in from the kitchen and told him to put it down so he span round and threw it at her head, missing her by only a few inches. He then picked the knife back up and stood in the middle of the room with his back to me. I stood behind him, told him he needed to calm down but he just span round and lashed the knife at me as he did.
At first I wasn’t aware anything had actually happened, but then I could feel a trickling wet feeling on my arm and looked down to see all the bones of my forearm showing where he had pretty much cut through everything. The slash had gone right across my right forearm and then bounced over to my left where a smaller cut was but the smaller cut was right across my wrist. I was bleeding out quite badly as you can imagine and passed out shortly afterwards. Came to in the hospital with the staff telling me I was lucky to be alive and the police looking at filing charges of attempted murder.
I now have a rather large scar across my right arm and a small one on the left and what really pisses me off is that little one on the left. People look at the large scar and think that it must be some kind of accident that caused that but when people see the small one it screams suicide attempt to them given where it is.