This happen to me when I was 19 years old. I went to a party on a reservation, and just happen to be the only white girl there. A girl younger than I got paid $10 to get in a fight, and I was the unexpecting chosen one. I had fell from her punching me and then got kicked in the face. My life changed extremely after that. Most my friends continued in college and developed careers and/or families, where I dropped out of college and began exploring drugs and more alcohol. I never asked for help, and I sometimes wonder how my life would have been if I had. I'm not mad at the person that did this, we were young, and lots of alcohol was involved. She actually grew up to be a good mommy. I have to have no regrets of where I went with my life after this event. I have my son, I got to be a part of someone's life who is no longer here, I am able to say I am a survivor of drug and alcohol addiction; and share my story which may help someone. I see these pictures pop up from time to time, and I get the same hollow empty hole feeling in my stomach and chest. This is just a part of my story, and a reminder of how far I have come.
I write about eyes, draw and paint eyes a lot in art. I think it's kind of my therapeutic way processing when i had a hematoma to my eye.