Hello World!

Welcome to my “Healthy Recovery” blog.

It has taken a lot of careful consideration to determine if I want to take my story public.  I figured that this was a good compromise because this format still affords me the opportunity to remain “anonymous” per se.  There is some comfort in that.

My story:  it’s complicated yet simple.  I will start with where I am today and I may choose to go back and document the past piece by piece.  This is a big step for me, so I am going to choose to keep it simple for now.

Fall 2011 I moved back to Atlanta.  This is my second stint living in the City of Atlanta.  I gave up my six figure corporate job in January 2008 to pursue a long term career in the health, fitness and wellness field.  I am now an American College of Sports Medicine Personal Trainer and Yoga Alliance Certified Yoga Instructor.  I started my own in home personal training business and was working at 3 different studios in Atlanta to keep a roof over my head and food on the table.

I spent several months looking for the “perfect” place to live.  A loft-style apartment in the center of Buckhead is where I landed.  Floor to ceiling windows, metal 2 story staircase, pendant drop lighting.  I could lay in my King size bed with a serene view of the property and pool area.  Nighttime was the best.  The city lights, buildings and sounds of the bustling city.  I was a happy, happy girl.  I would come home every night from teaching classes smiling from ear to ear.  I had finally found a profession that I LOVE.  I had finally found a way to move out of my parents house and make the finances work.

Then, one night it all changed.  I contacted a neighbor to see if he wanted to go grab a quick scotch.  He already had plans, but arranged for me to meet up with a hostess at a hotel bar within walking distance.  Great – I thought at the time.  A new point of contact and she even lived in the same building.  I did my hair and makeup, threw on a dress and walked to the hotel bar solo.

I remember every single detail of the evening.  I know exactly who I was talking to.  I know exactly what we were talking about.  Somehow I was coerced into taking a sip of his drink.  Naively, I took it.  It seemed to make sense at the time with the flow of conversation leading right into it.  From there – everything is black.  Complete darkness.

I woke up.  I was drugged.  I was sexually assaulted.  I lost more than my dignity and self confidence that night.  I almost lost my life.  The person responsible for this crime almost killed me.

This is MY story on how I am picking up the pieces to my broken life.  My broken state of emotional, mental and physical stability.

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