Shell-Shock

Yesterday I was the target of an unprovoked assault.

I was walking from my car to the sushi restaurant I had just dropped Kristin off at and decided to cut across the alley-like parking lot of the neighboring liquor store. No big deal, I've done this dozens of times before. About half way across the lot I realized that the background noise of somebody shouting was directed at me when a guy in his early to mid twenties ran up behind me and slapped the left side of my face hard enough that my glasses came off. He proceeded to shout semi-coherent things at me, referring to me as "punk" and shoved me as I continued to move through the parking lot to my destination. I don't know if he was hoping to mug me or just attempting to pick a fight, but when I neared the edge of the parking lot he backed off and slunk back in to it. I went into the restaurant and told Kristin what had happened and that I was pretty shaken up. She encouraged me to call the police and file a report. Me, of all people, call the police. There was a time where I NEVER would have turned to the police. When I actively avoided law enforcement.

We ate our dinner with me feeling a degree of agitation as the initial shock wore off and the pain in my left cheek, brow and jaw set in. I started to worry that this clearly angry and unstable person had seen me leave our car and that he would have damaged it, but I was becoming scared to go back to the vehicle without seeing the police first. Especially with Kristin there. I'm trying not to be misogynistic there, but she's my wife and I feel protective of her. She is also still recovering from a Yoga related injury to her knee. Right around the time we received our check the police officer arrived to take my report. The guy had fled the scene, my car was fine, and the officer filed the incident as a fifth degree assault.

*sigh* I don't know how to talk about or even think about this. I think maybe I feel emasculated. Weak. It isn't like I got really beat up. I didn't get robbed. I just have thought of myself as a tougher person than that. Somebody who defends others. Not a victim. On the other hand, I guess I'm more hard on myself than I am on anybody else; hold myself to more unreachable standards. I may jump to the defense of others, but how often do I really stand up for myself in non-physical confrontation.

Well . . . at least I've got something significant to discuss in therapy tomorrow. Happy almost-my 29th Birthday.