i came home from work today to find a letter from the apartment management. i skim through the letter, as if it's like any of the others. a car break in here. an apartment robbery there. nothing big.but then i see it. two men with guns approached a resident and robbed them between the hours of 10:30 and 11:00pm on MY STREET. if you've ever been to my apartment complex, then you know that my street is not very long. there are only a few buildings. meaning, this happened practically in my front yard.
i start to go through the files of my memory... i was out a lot last night. i was back and forth with pete to and from the dumpster to throw out what i was sure were flea ridden items from my home. (more on the flea infestation later...) i usually go to bed around 11pm, so i'm almost always outside with pete during that time so he can get in his last pee of the night.
did i see these men? did i walk past the car where they were waiting to choose their victim?
which then makes me think... why didn't they choose me? that's easy. 1) i have a pit bull to protect me. 2) i didn't have a purse or anything for them to profit from.
i breathe easy for a little while, but then i take pete with me on a trip to the dumpster to throw away tonight's vacuum bag and other assorted items. pete's poop place is in the grass behind the dumpster. (if you have a dog, then you know - they pick a spot and they always poop there.) as we approach the back side of the dumpster, i notice a man walking along the front side.
i don't think much of it. he's probably just throwing something away, right? no. he walks on by.
eh, he's probably just walking down the street. no big deal.
but he's wearing a dark hoodie with the hood covering half of his face. and his hands are in his pockets as he walks. as he passes the dumpster, he turns to look at me. pete's pooping, but i don't let my fingers stray from the trigger on the pepper spray in my pocket to unfold the poop bag. the man keeps on walking.
am i being paranoid? is this really happening? i tell myself to calm down.
the man walks toward my building. clearly i was being paranoid. he's just one of my new neighbors.
i keep one eye on him while i bag pete's poop and round the dumpster to throw it away.
the man keeps turning to look at me as he approaches the building. he walks inside, but stands right inside the glass door with his back to me.
now i'm confused. either he's fumbling for his keys (although i can't see his arms or hands moving) or he's just waiting there.
i decide that even if i'm being paranoid, i'm not messing around with this. i guide pete back to the sidewalk and we keep walking, away from the apartment.
the man sees me walking away. he leaves the building and walks back to the cars parked in the street. i wait a little bit, not wanting to have to interact with him at all. eventually though, i make my way back to my apartment, locking both locks and propping up my steel safety bar.
my right hand never let go of the pepper spray. my finger never left the trigger.
i pick up my phone. if i were still in the village i would have called the police right away. i knew them. they knew me. we knew everyone who lived around there. they would have been there in less than a minute to check out the situation.
...i don't live in the village anymore.
for reasons i can't explain, i put down the phone. there's no one to call. the police will think i'm paranoid. friends and family are too far away to do anything. what would they do anyway?
instead, i lock myself indoors and instigate pete's energy making him bark. whoever is out there, i want them to know that i've got a fierce protector.
it doesn't take long for the paranoia to fade and normalcy is regained. before i know it, i'm back to the mounds of laundry and the daily de-fleaing projects.
i climb into bed, start writing this blog and the phone rings. a friend, driving home from work. just calling to say hello. about halfway through the conversation, i notice something: my muscles relaxing.
i have been tense all night. shaking my feet and clenching my fists.
when something happens, whether to us or around us, sometimes it causes us to tense up. maybe it's emotional. maybe it's physical. maybe it's spiritual. we close off a part of ourselves. we build up walls. we let paranoia sweep over us. we keep our finger on the trigger of the pepper spray hidden in our pocket.
it's our body or our heart's natural defense. survival mode, some call it. and it keeps us alive. we become the ones who are armed and dangerous. armed with fear and dangerous mostly to ourselves.
there comes a time when we need to let go and get back to life. it doesn't have to happen in a matter of hours, days, weeks, months or even years. we all have our own pace. but we need to learn to live again.
what are your defenses? what caused them to build up around you? what will it take to allow yourself to break them down and live again?
sometimes we just need to hear that everything is alright. that we're okay. that we're safe.
i don't know if it was simply having a friend on the other end of the line, the completely natural conversation or his matter-of-fact statement that i have nothing to worry about that calmed me down, and i don't even think i knew i needed calming, but i'm thankful for that phone call. i'm thankful for that friend.
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