That’s partially true, with a minor detail adjustment. It wasn’t a Tuesday. It was a Wednesday. And nobody is sure of the exact time, but we know it was before 4pm. We were robbed. Well, technically my parents were robbed. But in essence I was too, considering that fact that I still have some things in storage at their house. I've gotten over the shock of it all, almost. However today I'm left asking, "now what?"
I’ve always been a believer that the real troubles in life will strike on an idle Tuesday (or in my family’s case, an idle Wednesday). Just look at 9-11. It occurred on a beautiful, sunny Tuesday. Who saw that coming? And today as we remember the victims of 9-11, we are reminded that no matter how routine and ordinary our day seems, you never know when life is going to smack you on your ass and turn your world completely upside down in the blink of an eye. Spontaneity and surprises are fun, but being shaken to your core is not. You can do your best to prepare for the unknown, for the worst...but you will never be able to fully brace yourself for its actual impact. In no way do I want to trivialize or minimize how devastating the events of September 11th were, but this post isn’t about that grave day. Although it is about tragedy, or rather how life is filled with tiny tragedies and how we are forced to pick ourselves up after such an occurrence. How we must deal with the aftermath in the days, weeks, months, sometimes years to come!
At the time it feels absolutely horrific knowing that complete strangers broke into your home and ransacked the place. Thousands of dollars of precious jewels, family heirlooms, and other irreplaceable personal belongings and sentimental keepsakes ripped from your hands. Immediately after, you feel dirty and frightened. A few hours later or even after a day passes, you are left feeling unsafe, insecure and incredibly vulnerable. I imagine a rape victim must feel eerily similar, being stripped of who you are is very uncomforting. You don't know who to trust, so therefore you trust no one. Everyone is the enemy or at least has potential to be the enemy. For this reason you keep your guard up which slowly begins to suck the happy, go lucky, laid back person that you usually are right out of you! You quickly become angry and on edge, or at least I have become all those things. To be honest, I'm beyond angry. I feel fucking hostile!
I'm not a person who seeks out revenge, not for myself that is. But when someone does something to hurt the people in my life that I love or care about, I get kind of ugly. I can get mean and down right violent. It's a side of me that surprises a lot of people, including myself. And I never knew this "evil side" of me existed until I went ballistic on a guy who tried to rape my girlfriend in college. Beating him with my fists until he was slipping in and out of unconsciousness and his body fell limp wasn't enough for me. I proceeded to kick him while he was knocked out and then took an aluminium baseball bat to his face until he was bloodied, bruised and broken to the point where he was unrecognizable. I may have continued if a few friends didn't wisely pull me off him. Obviously, I snapped. A fit of rage came over me and I was unable to control myself. Actually, I don't even remember all of it, just bits and pieces here and there. (I'm sure psychologists would have a fancy term for this.) What I do recall vividly were her screams. Her gasping for the air he choked out of her, not to mention her begging and pleading for her life. He did not stop when she cried. He did not stop when she said no. He showed her no mercy, therefore I showed him none either.
In the weeks following, my friends and I literally hunted him down on campus and jumped him every opportunity we got. He was beaten several more times before finally dropping out of school due to fear. I don't feel bad. And I don't regret any of it, other than the fact that I wish I could have saved her sooner - that it had never occurred to begin with. But I think that night changed something in me. It brought something evil out of me. My mindset at the time was that I was going to hurt him so badly that he could never hurt her or anyone else ever again. These days when "bad things" happen in life to the people I love or care about, I feel this overwhelming need (almost like it's my duty) to protect them at all costs. I know I'm not Superman and I can't always fly in and save the day, but yet I try. And if I can't keep the "bad things" from occurring, then I want restitution for its occurrence.
So when my Mom called to say they had been robbed and some of my things had been stolen as well, naturally I was upset. I sympathized and wanted to support and help her in any way I could. But when she began sobbing as she describe how they even stole my late Grandmother's necklace and matching bracelet (the only thing my Mom has to remember her own Mother by), I immediately developed a full blown hatred for who could have done this! That particular set was costume jewelry at best! It didn't even have any monetary value, just sentimental value...which to my Mom is of far greater worth.
Tonight, I'll be spending my Friday evening sorting through the mess, trying to see what belongings of mine were stolen and estimate the cost of my loss. Over a $6,000 of my Mom's jewelery alone was taken. She has yet to add everything else up. They entered from the roof, through my old bedrooom window. It will be rather unsettling to visit the one house, the one room, that brought me so much comfort and love growing up in. To now feel nauseous and an immense amount of anger steeping beyond those walls, to a place that is left contaminated by the filthy hands of thieves. They didn't just steal belongings. They stole memories. They stole part of my family, my late Grandmother's memory! They stole a sense of security, comfort and privacy. They stole the essence of what a house is - a home! These are things you cannot get back. Tonight I'll also be looking into installing surveillance cameras outside and a security system will be set up professionally inside.
Regardless of what preventive methods are put in to place, the question remains. When you are robbed of something in life, essentially stripped from who you are or from who you love, now what? How do you deal with the roller coaster of emotions that follow?
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