The night was alive with chaos. Sirens screamed through the air. The glow of fire flickered in the distance, casting eerie shadows against the buildings. It was May 30, 2020—a night that would forever be burned into my memory.
I had lived in La Mesa, San Diego, for years. It was my neighborhood, my home. But that night, it felt like something unrecognizable. The world was already drowning in uncertainty from the pandemic, and now, riots had taken over the streets.
From inside my apartment, I could hear the sounds of destruction—voices raised in anger, glass shattering, the roar of flames swallowing everything in their path.
I wasn’t looking for trouble. I wasn’t trying to be reckless. I just wanted to understand what was happening in my own backyard.
So, I stepped outside.
A few blocks away, I saw the bank on fire, smoke billowing into the sky like something out of a nightmare. Looters ran in and out of stores, their faces obscured by masks—not just for safety, but for anonymity. The air was thick with adrenaline, fear, and desperation.
I turned back toward my apartment, my heart pounding. I needed to get home. Fast.
Then, I saw him.
A man stood in the middle of the street, gripping a metal baseball bat. His face twisted in rage as he swung wildly at anyone who crossed his path. He wasn’t looting. He wasn’t protesting. He was guarding his neighborhood, or at least that’s what he thought he was doing.
His eyes found mine.
“Who the f** are you?”*
Before I could respond, he charged.
Panic shot through me. I reached for my Taser and sparked it, hoping it would scare him off. But instead, it only enraged him.
He swung the bat at me, knocking the Taser out of my hand. Then, without hesitation, he started swinging at my legs—again and again—until I collapsed onto the pavement.
I barely had time to react before he took another swing, this time aiming for my head. Instinct took over—I threw my hand up to block him.
A sickening crack echoed through the night. Pain exploded through me as my hand shattered from the impact.
I gasped, my vision swimming, but he wasn’t done. He raised the bat again, his eyes locked onto me with a twisted smile. He was aiming for my head. This time, there would be no blocking.
I thought, this is it. This is how I die. For a fleeting second, I hoped it would be quick. That it wouldn’t hurt.
Then—shouting.
“DROP YOUR WEAPON!”
A rush of footsteps. Suddenly, there were men in tactical gear charging toward us. They hadn’t even been responding to this incident; they had been answering a different call when they saw the flash of my Taser from a distance. That flash led them straight to me.
The man froze, the bat still raised. Then, he let it drop to the ground.
I was alive.
I don’t remember getting up. I just remember running. Running back to my apartment, locking the door behind me, and collapsing onto the floor. My whole body trembled.
But the terror didn’t stop when the night ended.
Trapped in Trauma
I didn’t leave my apartment for weeks. I couldn’t. The fear was suffocating. Whenever I heard a noise outside—someone talking, a car door slamming—my heart raced. I couldn’t walk my dog. I couldn’t run simple errands. My own neighborhood had become a battlefield in my mind.
I was diagnosed with PTSD.
I tried everything to feel normal again. Therapy, deep breathing, meditation—but nothing seemed to touch the fear that had burrowed itself deep inside me.
At my lowest, I wondered if I would ever feel safe again. If I would ever be me again.
That’s when I found hypnotherapy.
I’ll be honest—I was skeptical. Could something so simple actually help? But I had nothing to lose, so I committed to eight sessions.
And something started to change.
The fear didn’t vanish overnight, but I felt a shift. It loosened its grip, even just a little. I started going outside again—first just to a park, where there were people around. Then, little by little, I took back small pieces of my life.
But I still wasn’t free.
Becoming a Hypnotherapist and Facing My Fears
As I healed, I became fascinated with the power of the mind. If hypnotherapy could help me regain my sense of self, what else could it do? I wanted to know more. I wanted to help others the way I had been helped.
So, I enrolled at the Motivational Institute of Hypnosis in San Diego, CA, to become a Certified Clinical Hypnotherapist.
But healing isn’t just about learning—it’s about facing the things that haunt you.
During my coursework, I was assigned a practice partner, and we worked through my trauma, specifically my fear of walking alone in the street. Slowly, I started to feel my confidence return.
Then, an opportunity arose that tested everything I had learned: a job at a psych ward.
I hesitated at first. The thought of being in an unpredictable environment terrified me. But something in me knew if I didn’t face this fear head-on, I would never truly move forward.
So, I took the job.
At first, my body was on high alert all the time. I flinched at sudden movements. My mind raced with worst-case scenarios. But as the weeks passed, something changed. I started to understand the people around me. I saw human beings, not just their conditions. The fear that had once controlled me began to lose its power.
But there was still one thing left—I needed to know I could physically protect myself if I ever had to.
Finding Strength in Self-Defense
At first, I wasn’t sure if I could ever trust the world again. The fear still lingered, a shadow that followed me everywhere. I knew I couldn’t live like this forever. If I wanted to take my life back, I had to learn how to protect myself.
So, I signed up for a few self-defense classes—just three. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give me the basics, enough to make me feel like maybe, just maybe, I had some control over my own safety.
Then, one day at work, I had to use what I had learned.
In the middle of a crisis, a client suddenly swung at me. Before I even had time to think, my body reacted. I blocked the hit—quickly, instinctively. I felt a rush of something I hadn’t felt in a long time: Capability. I had protected myself. I had stayed calm.
That moment lit a fire inside me.
I realized I didn’t just want to know how to defend myself in an emergency—I wanted to truly master it. I wanted to push past my limits and prove to myself that I was stronger than the fear that had held me down for so long.
So, recently, I took it a step further. I enrolled in karate.
It’s a journey I never imagined myself on, but here I am, learning, growing, becoming stronger every day. It’s not just about fighting but reclaiming power, confidence, and trust in myself.
For the first time in years, I’m not just surviving.
I’m thriving.
Eleyna Bedolla
Certified Clinical Hypnotherapist
Elite Mind Hypnosis
~~~~~~~
Make kindness a habit.
To Your Success,
Peak Performance Coach