Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Fear

Fear is a very powerful emotion.
Politicians use it.
Employers use it.
Some relationships use it.
Loads of people use it to manipulate others.

I am not generally a fearful person.
I will sing karoke in front of strangers.
I have traveled to Paris and Sydney alone.
I have roamed the streets of London at night alone.
I have jumped out of airplanes.
I have jumped off of platforms.
I am not scared of silence.
I am not afraid of being alone.
Well normally...

Last night I found myself sitting on the floor next to my bed.
Crying hysterically and uncontrollably shaking.

A month ago or so, I had the alarm activated in the house.
I just felt like people may profile my house like they did in that movie "Home Alone" (crazy comparison I know).
It has been a great safety net and it has given me an extra layer of comfort.

Last night I went to sleep around 2am and of course set the alarm on.
At 3:27am, I wake up to the blaring sound of the alarm going off.
OMG. OMG. OMG.
At first I think its the fire alarm. [I have been thinking about the fire alarm quite frequently wondering how I would get both cats out alive by myself. I actually even had this thought again right before I went to bed. They don't sleep in my room and I keep the door closed.]
I quickly grapped some clothing.
I realize its the intruder alarm.
I crouch onto the floor near my bed.
I know the alarm company is probably about to call.
They do.
They tell me something is wrong with the back door.
OMG. OMG.
I have been forgetting to lock this door.
I start to cry.
The lady asks if I want to go check while she is on the phone with me.
"No way! I'm too scared."
The lady on the phone asks me if I want the police to come.
YES! YES! YES!
She says okay and hangs up.
I sit there crying hysterically watching the clock, listening for footsteps, and watching my bedroom door for the next ten minutes.
Nothing.
No police.
Nada.
The alarm stops squealing.
"Great, they've cut the wire"
I call the alarm company back.
Still quite hysterical.
I'm shaking.
I'm rocking myself back and forth on the floor.
Tony, the alarm guy, says he will stay on the phone with me until the police arrive. Oh good. Poor guy though for having to deal with me.
Fifteen minutes go by.
I ask if he can check where the police are.
He calls the police dispatcher.
No ETA.
I can't stop crying.
I can't stop shaking.

Poor Tony is trying to calm me.
"If it was someone, they are probably gone. They heard the alarm and they left"
"If they were robbing you, you would hear more noise."
"It probably was just the weather since Florida is especially cold tonight"
"Do you hear anyone?"
"I don't think so but I'm not sure"
If Roger were alive, this would not be an issue. He would have already searched the house and we would be back to sleep.
I am still crying. I tell him about Roger.
"Do you want me to call your emergency contacts?"
"No, the police are coming, right?"
"Yes, the police are coming"
He continues to try to make conversation with this lump of a person that I have become.
He tries to talk to me about where I am from. How long I have lived in Orlando. Do I go to Disney a lot. I am afraid to talk to loud. What if they hear me. Not to mention the fact I can't really talk through the hysterics.
My poor cats.
Are they okay? Is the door open and they have escaped? I can't bear to loose them right now. Would a burglar hurt them?
I couldn't even crack the door to check for them.
I just know this burglar is sitting on the couch waiting for me to come out of my room.
"Can you please call the police again?"
Tony does. Still no ETA.
For ninety minutes, I sit and wait. I cry. I shake. I can barely move.
I'm ready to slide under my bed at any sound.
My poor poor cats.

Finally the cop arrives.
He searches the outside of the house.
He comes inside and with him I see there is nothing wrong with the door.
It must just be the stupid cold weather.

This isn't me.
I am brave.
I am strong.
How have I become so weak? So fearful?
I have crazy thoughts and fears now.
So scared that I couldn't even move to check on my poor cats.

I don't like this new fearful me.
I don't like her at all.

2 comments:

C. said...

I'm glad you're okay. That's ridiculous that the cops couldn't get there for an hour and a half.

If it's any help, I probably would have reacted much worse than you. And if you ever need to borrow my big scary (but lovable) dog, you are more than welcome to. ;)

dkaufmanuf said...

An hour and a half??? why do I even have an alarm?