Writing about my experience is, admittedly, an exercise for the internal. It may not be bringing those memories to the surface, but it is providing an outlet for my frustration, fear, anger, hope, and thankfulness. This afternoon a friend of mine told me he’d called his 24-year-old sister… to read my blog. She called him back and said she would never, ever leave a bar alone again.
One of my colleagues was recently mugged in Chicago and is blogging her experience back to normalcy.