By now I’ve managed to sleep, fitfully, in my own bed. The thought of someone wandering through my house, touching my things, lingering in my bedroom…it defies description.
My husband made a custom deterrent for each of the windows except the ones ten feet off the ground; namely, a thick rod or slat of wood wedged into the upper window’s frame. Just as a sliding glass door won’t slide with a broom handle lying in the track, these windows won’t rise at all. Of course, the glass can be broken out. Yet it does give me some peace of mind.
Having friends comfort me and a having a dear sweet sister pray for, and with me, was priceless today. We left the house unattended for Sunday morning worship. My sister let me cry on her shoulder and I must say, it was excellent therapy.
After church, Charles and I went to lunch at the invitation of my precious church sister. She knows how much I enjoy good Mexican food.
As we arrived home, coming down the driveway I felt the uneasiness return. Never having had a panic attack, if this was anything similar, it was horrible. Like something or someone had me by the throat and I struggled for the next breath. What would we find? Had the thief returned? Would they be angry at our anti-theft windows and just knock the glass out? I went from room to room to check. All was well.
I decided to change clothes. My rooms appeared “normal”, that is, as normal as is possible with empty places glaring at me. I put on a blouse and turned to the mirror. This is a top I always liked to wear with my gold chain and little golden hummingbird. Something akin to panic stalked me. “I can do this!” “I will not give in to fear.”
How many times must I be reminded of what has happened here? Just like the stages of grief, there are these reminders that jump out, “Surprise!” It’s like being blind-sided with a plethora of emotions and it’s impossible to decide which one to allow a way out. It’s not healthy to hold them in. Maybe I shouldn’t try. Maybe I should go stand in my yard and give way to what I like to call Scream Therapy. Just scream as loud as I can. Maybe the neighbors will think I’ve flipped my lid.
Until next time, I’ll be warming up my vocal chords.