22 days since the shooting. It was hard to get out of bed today. I just wanted to stay curled up while the snow fell. And I felt very angry at nothing for some reason. Some days I’m filled with rage. But I forced myself to get up and surrounded myself with people I knew and loved. Days like these I get very feisty. But when I’m around others I force myself to be kind. Because that’s how they are to me.
For most people taking selfies is a fun activity, but for New York City resident Antonius Wiriadjaja, his series of self-portraits represents a fateful incident in his life.
On 5 July 2013, Wiriadjaja was walking to the subway station when he heard a firecracker go off.
The then-interactive telecommunications grad student from NYU looked down and realized that he had been shot in the chest.
Miraculously, the bullet missed his vital organs and traveled south towards his gut. However it left him in a coma for four days, and he underwent seven months of physical therapy after that.
Wiriadjaja has been documenting his long and slow road to recovery in his series ‘How I Survived A Gunshot To The Gut’, a collection of 450 images and counting taken each day since three weeks after the shooting.
The idea for the series came about after he took a picture with his mother and posted it on social media, and received overwhelmingly positive reactions from friends and family.
Each picture shows him lifting his shirt up and raising his arm to show his scar, a long red welt running the length of his stomach.
Throughout the healing process, his face changes as he loses and gains weight—the sight of breathing tubes inserted in him are particularly hard-hitting.
Wiriadjaja initially started his series to advocate for gun control; it turned out the shooter had been aiming for the woman next to him, whom he thought was pregnant with another man’s child.
It soon became a statement on humanity. “Now, I realized it’s more than just about gun control. It’s also about the human condition. I like to remind people that one asshole, one guy shot me but hundreds of people helped save my life.”
Wiriadjaja, who is now an animation lecturer at NYU, doesn’t know how long he intends to keep up his series as it’s unclear when the healing process is “complete”. He still struggles with pain and depression more than a year on, but is determined to get better everyday.
Check out some photographs below and follow his on-going series here.
242 days since the shooting. Going to a job interview. Wish me luck!
301 days since the shooting. I love how it’s finally May. But I hate that I’m getting closer to the shooting anniversary. I don’t know what to call it. But the date will never leave my mind. They say the first year is the hardest. Who are they? Other gun shot wound survivors. They know this pain too well. I'm glad I can’t remember mine anymore. Although once in a while I can still taste the bullet. Though it never reached my mouth, I still imagine gunpowder residue under my tongue. It stays there, but I’m okay, I lived through trauma and my scars are healing. In time, I’ll get better. Until the day I go away. But I’m not planning for that day to come any time soon.
337 days since the shooting. I got a lot done today. But it’s tough recently. My psychotherapist who I now trust with a lot of my dirty laundry, says he noticed a pattern of me being super active and then falling into a slump and being in a continuous slump that signifies depression. I don’t feel depressed. Yes I get sad sometimes. Yes I get anxious. But I think I’m better than when I first got shot. The nice thing about hearing that from a professional who has been doing this all his life, though, is I have to give him some credit. Maybe I need some more time before I can honestly say I’m mentally all right. But I know I’m much happier than when I was in chronic pain.
365 days since the shooting. It has been one year since a bullet entered my chest and tore through my guts while I was walking to the subway. I’m happy to be alive. Today is a celebration to me. But I’ll never forget the victims who weren’t so lucky. I pledge to spend the rest of my years in their honour, working to end the gun violence epidemic we are living in. Peace.
423 days since the shooting. I think I forget that I’m still emotionally in pain. The other day I heard balloons popping, fireworks and someone accidentally touched my bullet wound and I had become very uncomfortable. Fortunately I was with company who knew what happened to me over a year ago so they understood why I had to leave. They knew better than me, actually. Today I hung out with my roommate who was in the ambulance with me. We aren’t living together anymore, which I’m sad about. But I couldn’t afford my medical bills plus that apartment. If it weren’t for the kindness of friends and family I’d be sleeping in the gutters. What an awful idea. I’ve come so far from where I was last year. I’m so glad. I’m so grateful. But not everyone is this lucky.
436 days since the shooting. I’m running out of steam. But I’m alive. I’m working at awesome places. I have friends and family who love me. So I'm happy. I’m happy because I had all these things before the shooting. And that’s why I survived. I’m happy because I still have those things I cherish. The bullet can’t take that away from me.
[via Fast Company, images via Antonius Wiriadjaja]