TORITA BLAKE WAS SHAKEN so badly as a baby she now cannot see out of her right eye.

While from the left, all she sees is a blur.

Just as this young Aboriginal sprinter also suffers epilepsy.

That, and cerebral palsy. So who knows?

Maybe she wasn’t only shaken at all.

Certainly one of her doctors has said as much – convinced the brain trauma suffered by this Australian Paralympian, a 400m runner now on the cusp of qualifying for her third Games team, was the result of violence endured not only over hours or days, but those first weeks of her life.

Still, Blake will never know for sure.

Aware only that 25 years ago, hospital staff who greeted the Royal Flying Doctor Service travelling from Roma to Brisbane with her tiny five-week-old body – a body that hadn’t only stopped breathing during the flight, but also boasted a broken collarbone and severe brain trauma – were united in believing she would not live through the night.

Yet little Torita, she survived.

Only just, sure.

And with so much pain to come.

With that broken bub eventually returning home for what, she says now, would be a decade of sexual abuse by the same stepfather responsible for her assault.

“And still my whole life,” says this proud Dunghutti woman, “I’ve tried hiding behind a smile.

“But not anymore.

Which is why as she fights to find that qualifying time which will take her to Tokyo in late August, Blake also wants you to know about the ongoing nightmares so bad, she suffers sleep deprivation.

Same deal her severe panic attacks, one of which strikes on the afternoon of our interview.

RUNNING TO SURVIVE

MEDICALLY, BLAKE HAS been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

A truth which means apart from training six days a week, both trackside and in the gym, she also undergoes counselling for anxiety, depression, outbursts of anger and an overwhelming sensation “of feeling lost”.

The first time Blake was sexually abused, she was seven.

“Just a little girl,” she says.

With the trauma then continuing, repeatedly, until she finally fled not only the family home in her late teens, but also the situation that has since seen her stepfather imprisoned for 12 years.

“Yet for so long,” Blake says, “I said nothing”.

No, instead, she ran.

A love affair which started, initially, in high school and only weeks after receiving her first white cane.

Sure, this kid inspired by Cathy Freeman could never see much more than what appeared to be a “funny looking white line” ahead of her.

While the cerebral palsy also ensured her gait … well, it became the source of much teasing from classmates.

“But as soon as I was old enough to get away from the house,” she says, “I went running”.

Still, you should know that more than once, this little girl with limited vision tumbled onto asphalt and dirt. Another time, almost hit by a car.

So close that her pet dog Dorothy, something of a constant companion, was the one tragically struck and killed.

But still running.

“It was my healing” the now 25-year-old says.

“Even when kids laughed at me. Or when running on the road, I almost got hit.

Some mornings, out on the streets. Other days, a nearby park.

No coach, no spikes, and no bloody idea.

Yet still, this sexual abuse survivor ran her way into the 2012 London Paralympics anyway.

With Australian team doctors discovering during medicals how the teenager who wouldn’t stop running – who couldn’t stop – was doing so with 11 stress fractures in her legs.

Which is why now, finally, Blake wants to speak.

SHINING THE SPOTLIGHT

BLAKE IS DETERMINED to put a face to those statistics showing how, of the one in six Australian women who suffer physical and/or sexual abuse before age 15, the overwhelming majority have a perpetrator from within or close to the family.

“Which is something, as Australians, we need to speak about,” Blake says.

“And speak about loudly.”

So she is.

Not only for her own continued healing, but also to save others from the same.

“First statement I gave to police in December 2016, it was because I didn’t want anyone else going through what I had,” she says.

“What scared me most was when I found out my stepfather had a (new) girlfriend.

“She had six kids.

“And I didn’t want any of them going through what had happened to me.”

Similarly, the Brisbane sprinter also wants kids of any disadvantage – physical, financial, whatever – to understand no matter the obstacles in life, you can overcome.

“What happened to me as a baby, I still don’t really know,” continues this athlete who has not only attended the London and Rio Paralympics, but medalled twice at World Championship events.

“For a long time, everyone just said I’d been born that way.

“It was only much later that I learned the truth; that my stepfather was actually jailed (for grievous bodily harm) and then, after his release, returned to my life again.

“Which even now leaves me feeling a bit lost at times.

“But, you know, I’m still here.

“I’m a fulltime athlete. I’m a Paralympian.

“And no matter what happens in my life, no matter what others do or say to me, I can still achieve the goals I set for myself.

Which, undoubtedly, she is.

Apart from maintaining a strong relationship with her mum, and having reunited with her biological father, Blake also credits coach Wayne Leaver and a tight-knit circles of friends for the life which not only sees her living as a fulltime athlete, or chasing a Paralympic threepeat, but also mentoring for several groups, including Deadly Choices.

“And I know there are parents out there with children like me,” she says. “Parents asking themselves ‘what can there be for my kid to do?’

“So that’s why I now want to tell all of my story.

“Tell people that I have been sexually abused. That I’ve been the victim of domestic violence as a baby.

“Even a few years ago, I had a neurologist say how given the brain damage I’ve received, they had no idea how I was even standing in front of them.

“But I don’t have to let any of that beat me.”

Nor is she.

“Because it’s like when I’d run in school,” Blake concludes.

“When because of my cerebral palsy, because of my blindness, the kids would laugh.

“Or they would make fun of me.

“But I never cared what anyone said.

“I just kept running.”