A month and a half ago…

…I was assaulted on my morning commute.  I was crossing from subway platform to platform, moving with one crowd and trying to not crowd the crowd moving the other way.

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I bumped shoulders with someone, who promptly and violently shoved me.

I turned around and barely had time to pull my earphones out to ask what the fuck the guy’s problem was, when before I could get “wh-” out of my mouth when I was punched twice in the face, cracking my cheekbone enough that my upper jaw is still numb, I had a shut-swollen black eye for a week and a half, I have a constant headache, and I regularly blow glops of snot and blood out my nose, or have to hock up the black goobs from my throat.

In the month and a half since the attack, I have gotten exactly one call from the police, to say they were looking into getting the video of the platform that day.

It took until today for the government’s victim’s assistance service to get in touch with me – in the meantime, between the trauma of the fight I lost before I knew I was even supposed to be in a fight, and personal stress caused by – what else – my strained relationship with my ex-wife over my kids, what she says to them about me, and the fact that they are TERRIFIED their mother is going to make me go away…let’s just say I’m on an unpaid personal health leave I don’t expect to be welcomed back from.

Well after the “incident” as everyone calls it because no one’s got the fucking balls to call it a fucking assault I haven’t had a day where taking public transit didn’t cause me anxiety, stress…

I posted about this on social media, certainly made no secret of how poorly I was treeted by the STM’s own little gang of thugs, their “security” detail – berated by one racist French Bitch for speaking in English and replying by telling her to Speak to me in English or not at all, to her partner threatening to put me in restraints and later assaulting me himself for attempting to film them.

Then, of course, the Uncle Tom Anglo ambulance technician who treated me like shit because I was uppity and belligerent with our French Quebec Betters.

When asked if I should go to the hospital, he told me, “I don’t care what you do; but if you do go to the hospital, it won’t be in my ambulance.”

I couldn’t get an IOTA of sympathy from my ex…not the least trace of Human decency, and the implicit suspicion that I must have done something to deserve it.

If not for the (never-followed-through-by-her-promise-to-extend-my-visits-to-weekly) two times a month I see my children, whose mother refuses to let me Skype with them duing the week, I’d have no Human affection or companionship in my life.  My kids all want their own individual time with me…and She won’t even talk to me about it.

Worst of all, however, I got more sympathy from my online friends and from coworkers who barely know me than I did from anyone I ever loved as a friend.

You bastards have abandoned me…when I was there for you all when you needed me.  I strike out at your hypocricy with glee…in so many cases, you did far worse things than what I’ve done…to yourselves and each other…I forgave you…but you could never see my perspective…never empathize with me pain, with the constant collapse of my world.

God damn you all to the same kind of Hell you’ve left me in.

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