MainelyGlock
Regular Member
So, it's been a year ago today that I was jumped, stabbed, and mugged. Yes, all at once. If you want to read what happened, I believe I wrote a description of the incident in my very first post. If I can find it, I'll link it. This entry is basically for me to openly reflect on how it has changed me in the last year. Please feel free to add any input!
I had been in my good share of fights before, but never one that left me with a 2.5-inch hole in my leg, so for starters that was a new experience. I have always been fairly good at taking a beating and walking away when I knew it was right, but for some reason I chose to try and fight off several people at once. Let that be a lesson!
Needless to say, for the first few weeks after the attack, I was looking over my shoulder quite a bit. Every voice, every set of footsteps or screeching tires, and especially those that were jogging past me sent adrenaline rushing through my veins. Especially the runners. I would often turn to face them as they ran by, then continue on my way. This is one positive change that has come as a result of what happened: my situational awareness level. I don't want to say something nerdy like I have heightened Superman senses, but not a lot goes unnoticed by me now when I am in public. I am never not taking in my surroundings, and looking for something out of the ordinary or trying to spot something wrong. It's good and bad. Bad because it doesn't seem to go away. Fortunately, I'm not as jumpy as I was right after it happened. I'm sure I look a bit crazy looking around more than a lot of people, but so be it. Now, I have a general distrust towards every stranger I see.
At this point a year ago, I owned three handguns. My trusty Glock 22 (third-gen), and two Sigs. I had never even really considered carrying for a variety of reasons. My skills were limited, and I wasn't educated on the laws around it. At all. So before I go any further into my rant, I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who has ever replied to a post or answered a question for me on this website.
The day I got out of the hospital, and returned home (my mother made me stay the night at her house when I was released), I went back to where it happened to look for my glasses. Luckily, all those ******** got away with was a sweatshirt and a BlackBerry from 2006. In the struggle, though, my glasses were knocked off. So finding my way back home with my 20/210 vision in the dark was another fun challenge Anyways, my mother insisted that we go buy mace, or a baton, or something along those lines. It was when we were at Cabelas that I informed her of my gun ownership. She knew I had been taught how to shoot (for the most part), but didn't know I owned any firearms. Yes, I kind of took advantage of the previous days events to tell her (good timing!), but she still wasn't happy. So, I ended up buying my Blackhawk Serpa Level II holster instead of mace, which is what I use now when OC'ing.
She asked me "Are you really ready to kill someone if this ever happens again?" and I told her "No, because after today I don't plan on letting this happen again." Unfortunately, I was lying when I said no. Seeing my family so broken up when I was in the hospital made me want to kill those who were responsible.
So, this ties in to the next thing that's changed for me in the last year: my involvement with guns. I've since gone through countless handguns and long guns, and have now finally settled on my current setup for now. I started open carrying to as many places as possible, took a few basic handgun courses, got my CCP, and have been practicing handgun drills, dry-fire drills, and tactical reloading drills ever since. I usually get to the range a few times a month because even though I am now confident in my shooting abilities with my Glock, I both want and need to be sure that I can hit what I'm shooting at. I still have a long ways to go as far as shooting under duress goes, but there's time. Now, I am never more than 5 feet away from my Glock. Never. And I'm not sure that will ever change. I've also had the opportunity to teach both of my younger brothers the fundamentals of shooting, which has been a very pleasant and fun experience.
The final, and probably most important thing that has changed is how I forgive someone who has done me wrong. I can't say I 100% forgive the people who attacked me, only because of the impact it had one those I care about most. In fact, if I ever saw them on the street again, I can't say what would happen or how I would react. But I can say I'd like to, and I'm not mad at them. If anything, I hope they feel stupid for only making off with a $10 outdated phone and a $40 hoodie. It took many months to finally not be angry about what happened, especially because the local PD didn't seem to give a ****. They never seemed to actively pursue anything, and never caught anyone or even brought anyone in. I've accepted that those guys will never be found, and never have to face what they did to me. It's a very hard thing to do, but I decided that they just weren't worth it. That being said, not a day goes by without me thinking about the stabbing. I'm hoping that will change in the near future, but it might be something that takes time, which is OK.
So, that's my rant. After looking back at my first post, I never really went into detail, so if anyone reads this and decides they want to hear a story, let me know and I'll do my best to recall everything.
I had been in my good share of fights before, but never one that left me with a 2.5-inch hole in my leg, so for starters that was a new experience. I have always been fairly good at taking a beating and walking away when I knew it was right, but for some reason I chose to try and fight off several people at once. Let that be a lesson!
Needless to say, for the first few weeks after the attack, I was looking over my shoulder quite a bit. Every voice, every set of footsteps or screeching tires, and especially those that were jogging past me sent adrenaline rushing through my veins. Especially the runners. I would often turn to face them as they ran by, then continue on my way. This is one positive change that has come as a result of what happened: my situational awareness level. I don't want to say something nerdy like I have heightened Superman senses, but not a lot goes unnoticed by me now when I am in public. I am never not taking in my surroundings, and looking for something out of the ordinary or trying to spot something wrong. It's good and bad. Bad because it doesn't seem to go away. Fortunately, I'm not as jumpy as I was right after it happened. I'm sure I look a bit crazy looking around more than a lot of people, but so be it. Now, I have a general distrust towards every stranger I see.
At this point a year ago, I owned three handguns. My trusty Glock 22 (third-gen), and two Sigs. I had never even really considered carrying for a variety of reasons. My skills were limited, and I wasn't educated on the laws around it. At all. So before I go any further into my rant, I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who has ever replied to a post or answered a question for me on this website.
The day I got out of the hospital, and returned home (my mother made me stay the night at her house when I was released), I went back to where it happened to look for my glasses. Luckily, all those ******** got away with was a sweatshirt and a BlackBerry from 2006. In the struggle, though, my glasses were knocked off. So finding my way back home with my 20/210 vision in the dark was another fun challenge Anyways, my mother insisted that we go buy mace, or a baton, or something along those lines. It was when we were at Cabelas that I informed her of my gun ownership. She knew I had been taught how to shoot (for the most part), but didn't know I owned any firearms. Yes, I kind of took advantage of the previous days events to tell her (good timing!), but she still wasn't happy. So, I ended up buying my Blackhawk Serpa Level II holster instead of mace, which is what I use now when OC'ing.
She asked me "Are you really ready to kill someone if this ever happens again?" and I told her "No, because after today I don't plan on letting this happen again." Unfortunately, I was lying when I said no. Seeing my family so broken up when I was in the hospital made me want to kill those who were responsible.
So, this ties in to the next thing that's changed for me in the last year: my involvement with guns. I've since gone through countless handguns and long guns, and have now finally settled on my current setup for now. I started open carrying to as many places as possible, took a few basic handgun courses, got my CCP, and have been practicing handgun drills, dry-fire drills, and tactical reloading drills ever since. I usually get to the range a few times a month because even though I am now confident in my shooting abilities with my Glock, I both want and need to be sure that I can hit what I'm shooting at. I still have a long ways to go as far as shooting under duress goes, but there's time. Now, I am never more than 5 feet away from my Glock. Never. And I'm not sure that will ever change. I've also had the opportunity to teach both of my younger brothers the fundamentals of shooting, which has been a very pleasant and fun experience.
The final, and probably most important thing that has changed is how I forgive someone who has done me wrong. I can't say I 100% forgive the people who attacked me, only because of the impact it had one those I care about most. In fact, if I ever saw them on the street again, I can't say what would happen or how I would react. But I can say I'd like to, and I'm not mad at them. If anything, I hope they feel stupid for only making off with a $10 outdated phone and a $40 hoodie. It took many months to finally not be angry about what happened, especially because the local PD didn't seem to give a ****. They never seemed to actively pursue anything, and never caught anyone or even brought anyone in. I've accepted that those guys will never be found, and never have to face what they did to me. It's a very hard thing to do, but I decided that they just weren't worth it. That being said, not a day goes by without me thinking about the stabbing. I'm hoping that will change in the near future, but it might be something that takes time, which is OK.
So, that's my rant. After looking back at my first post, I never really went into detail, so if anyone reads this and decides they want to hear a story, let me know and I'll do my best to recall everything.