MARCH 5, 1992: “Knives” …


“Sitting in your room, this boredom overcomes you. It’s all you can do not to fall asleep. Searching for that certain piece of mind, you will find it … searching for what’s yours to keep, it’s yours to keep. And in my opinion, don’t be justified by what this world has to give you. And in my opinion, don’t be satisfied hate. Poor girl … she has no idea what it’s like to forgive. She cries at night with hatred inside her heart. If she could only see the pain he caused her soul maybe she would see it and see this pain right from the start.  If maybe things had gone your way then maybe you’re life wouldn’t be so sad. If only things were what they said, it’s not the rips that bleed, it’s the knives to blame.” ~ The Leo Project

I truly enjoyed working downtown and made many friends there, including some vendors who would come around each day peddling legal copy work. This is a highly competitive industry downtown and these “copy guys” would spend their days wooing us with treats and lunches to get our business. The very large firm I worked for at the time outsourced most of their copy work, so we had very tight relationships with these people. One of those “copy guys”, someone I truly considered a friend, waited for me one late night after work in an empty parking garage connected to our building and changed my life forever and in such profoundly damaging ways that, unbeknownst to me, it would take years for me to figure it out. Unfortunately, I chose not to tell anyone what happened that night, as you may oft heard it said that some women who are raped just block it out of their minds in some desperate attempt at self-preservation. That was me! I called in sick the following day, as well as the week that followed, but eventually had to go back to work.

Day after day he would come through the office and even to my desk as if nothing had ever happened! Every minute of every day I was completely crumbling inside, and my already unstable marriage was falling to the ground in pieces. If only I hadn’t befriended him. If only I hadn’t worked so late that night. Maybe I led him on in some way? Maybe I dressed wrong? I tried desperately to keep things together at home but had almost instantly become cold and distant towards Pete, who had no idea what had happened to me at the time. He only knew that I had become completely unbearable to live with. A few weeks later though, while at a family reunion in New Mexico, I became pregnant with our first child and was able to change my focus. Inside, however, I internally combusting.

Six months into the pregnancy, while running errands for my boss, I was in an accident on the Dallas Tollway and went face first literally through my windshield. A hit and run driver that was attempting to cross three lanes of traffic clipped the front of my car and sent me spinning head-on into the wall. I was unconscious for a couple of hours and my cheeks and nasal cavity were shattered. By the time the swelling had subsided enough for the reconstructive surgeon to completely assess the damage I was already eight months pregnant, so I had to go through the reconstruction of my face only moderately sedated and with a blindfold over my eyes. Ironically, however, because of my bulging tummy on the day of the accident, the seatbelt was wrapped under rather than across it, so when I went over the steering wheel, the baby went with me, which the doctors tell me was the only reason he survived.