Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Fears

This is a long one, friends. It's been stewing for a few days now and while I thought of breaking it down into multiple posts, I am a big advocate of shorter posts, it didn't feel right and I opted to post it in full today. Indulge me this lengthy introspection.

We're packing up our cars after a day at the zoo. We're there with my friend Katie and her son and infant daughter. The sun is shining down on us through the trees and there is a cool breeze. Katie and I laugh and talk as we load up our cars. I lay out the changing pad in the back under the gate of my SUV so I can change Sophie's diaper. I'm about halfway through changing her when Katie finishes up and with a wave and a goodbye drives off.

As she's pulling away, I notice a man walking toward us. He's still a fair distance away, but I get an unpleasant frisson as I realize that we are in a somewhat secluded spot. The crowd of cars in the parking lot this morning has now thinned out and I become aware of how isolated we are. The man is alone and dressed in a manner that is incongruous with someone out for a walk. The memories, never far from the surface, erupt, and I go cold.

*****

We're walking back from dinner at my favorite Tex-Mex restaurant. I am with one of my closest friends, someone I don't see nearly as often now that I have started at a new job. It is a short walk on this warm summer evening from the restaurant in the waterfront Canton area of Baltimore. As we get close to her house, we decide to stop in at the restaurant across the street to see her boyfriend who bartends there.

I look around and see a man come around the corner behind us. He is wearing a dark sweatshirt with the hood up. Its a strange thing for such a warm night and the hairs stand up on the back of my neck, but I look around and am comforted by the bright streetlights and the sight of other people walking on the street. Just as we step off the curb to cross the street, the man runs up along side my friend and grabs her purse. She instinctively pulls it in to herself and he whips around so that he is facing us as we stop short. His left hand is still on her purse as his right comes up revealing a handgun.

The gun is big and black and I have never known fear like I do in that moment as a man points it at my chest from less than four feet away. My friend releases her purse and he yanks it to himself, demanding my bag as he does so. As I hand it over, I tap into some hidden well of courage, or stupidity, and ask if I can just get my keys out of it first.

He looks at me for a long dark moment, gun pointed squarely at my heart, and says with soft, deliberate slowness: "You think I'm fucking kidding? RUN." And I do.

I run like my life depends on it. Because it just might. I don't look to see where my friend is, too lost in my own self-preservative flight. I run to the restaurant across the street and throw open the door. Breathless, I all but shout "I just got mugged!" My friend appears next to me and people crowd around us, asking if we're okay.

We are.

But...

*****

The man is getting closer. Close enough now that I can make out his features. I grow more panicky with each of his steps. My heart races. I calculate his distance and what it will take to get Sophie and myself safely into the car before he reaches us. I'm nearly panting. There just isn't time to get her dressed, so I scoop her up in only her top and a diaper, slamming the gate closed and racing around the car. I get her buckled up and see the man through the windows. He is no more than 25 feet away now. He is on the drivers side. Can I make it in time? I don't wast time to think, I just rush around and leap into the car, locking the doors the moment I have mine closed.

I am shaking so hard I can barely hold on to the keys as I shove them in the ignition. I twist my head side to side, frantically looking around for him. I can't see him, but surely he has reached us by now. Sophie is howling in the back seat. Where is he?! I still can't find him. Has he snuck up alongside the car? My heart is pounding in my ears like a jackhammer. Is he going to pop up at my window, a gun or knife in hand, and demand my purse or my car? Or worse?

But then I spot him. He is now past us by a few dozen yards. His gait hasn't changed and he doesn't look back. I slump down, hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel, and close my eyes as I rest my head on the knuckles of my left hand. The entire event took place over the course of maybe 3 minutes. 180 seconds. An eternity.

I watch him walk further away and decide we are safe enough that I can get Sophie back out and put the rest of her clothes on. But I am vigilant. I watch and listen for him or any other would-be assailant. I am still so geared up that each rustle of the leaves is a monster waiting to pounce. I get Sophie dressed and buckled back in as calmly as I can and we are on our way.

Its been a busy day and we are out well into Sophie's nap time, so it is not surprising that she falls asleep within minutes. I have the radio on, but I'm not really listening to it. I look back at my sleeping daughter and replay what just happened and I reflect on that night eight years ago.

*****

We were lucky. Muggings turn ugly every day. I personally knew a young man who was fatally stabbed just a year before my own unfortunate experience when he tried to stop a man who was mugging an elderly woman.

But although we were both physically unharmed, we are not undamaged. A sense of security is a translucently thin china teacup. So fragile and so easily broken. The putting back together is a long, delicate process and while it can be done, it will never be the same. There will always be weak spots that are susceptible when pressure is applied.

Sometimes weeks will go by that I don't think about that night. I don't think about the barrel of that gun and how close it was to my chest. I don't think about his cold voice. Or that in my fear and cowardice I ran off, leaving my friend. That she was fine is all that saves me from horrific guilt. But the memory of that entire experience is burned into me. Those fears found a home and I am a hair trigger away from total recall.

I hate that I am so paranoid. That I really don't feel safe anywhere. But if there is a silver lining, it is that I listen to my gut now. If my hair stands up, I act. I don't wait for the situation to become dire and I don't worry about offending anyone. There is every likelihood that the man we encountered at the zoo was just a fellow out for an afternoon walk, but what if? What if he wasn't? What if he had awful, horrible plans for me or my child? We'll never know.

And I'm okay with that.

30 comments:

  1. With an experience like that, it is no wonder you have fear. Being vigilant of your surroundings is definitely a way to be safer. Does it get easier the more time that has passed? Wishing you much strength and courage.

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  2. Wow...if I went through that, I'd be just like you. I don't blame you for being hyper-vigilant either...you never know and it's not only you that you're protecting, but another life. You did the right thing...

    Where do you live in MD?

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  3. Cara! That was so well written, I was on the edge of my seat the whole time and really felt as if I were with you. I'm sorry that a sense of safety has been taken from you. I've never had an encounter like that, so your story is a good one for me to tuck in the back of my mind while in the city on a daily basis. It's real. It does happen to people. If only it didn't.
    ~kristin

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  4. I'd much rather be hyper-vigilant and safe than nonchalant and...not safe. Especially with my children. I am glad you are okay.

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  5. What a powerful post. I find myself at times being to careless. I think a little bit of your paranoia would be good for me.

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  6. My parents brought me up to have a sense of cautious fear, especially when it comes to strangers and being in vulnerable situations. I hated it then, being the trusting and naive girl that I was. But I KNOW that knowledge/fear has kept me out of situations that would've been dangerous.

    I would've done the same thing as you at the zoo. You just can't be too careful; when your instincts are screaming like that, I think it's God tapping you on the shoulder with a warning. You did good to listen to him.

    It sucks that we have to learn these kind of lessons at all. And then teach them to our babies. Trying to find that balance between careful but not paranoid...it's so hard.

    Well written post, Cara.

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  7. Thanks for sharing. I hate that you went through that. There's no need for us to live in fear, but that doesn't mean that we live without care, either.

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  8. Cara, I know how you feel. I remember when you were mugged. I think we were both mugged that very same year. I am still ultra paranoid as well. I think it never goes away. But sometimes I think if I had just been a little more paranoid when it had happened, maybe it wouldn't have happened in the first place. Because like you, I knew something seemed weird, and I ignored that voice in my head. I think it's all too common for us women to ignore our inner voice, because we're afraid we will fit the "hysterical female" stereotype. I hope one day more of us listen to our intuition even before something horrible validates that we should, because strong intuition is one of the many great qualities of our gender.

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  9. Living in a city with crime can make us all paranoid, but I think when you become a victim of that crime it makes it hard to go back. I understand your caution, especially where your baby is concerned.

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  10. My heart was racing throughout the post. Did you watch the Oprah on the gift of fear? I didn't and actually deleted it from my DVR, but I should have watched I'm thinking now.

    So sorry you have to live with those memories, but agree that's it's better to trust your instincts and be safe not sorry.

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  11. It is sad that there are bad people in the world that pray on others……especially young girls who are naive. It makes me sick that this happened to you. I had a similar thing happen to me when I was in my early 20s. It took a long time to get over the initial trauma and the fear of something happening again never goes away. Thanks for telling your story……it makes me feel less alone in the world. I would have done the exact same thing at the zoo that you did. Better safe than sorry!

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  12. I have never had an experience like yours before. I grew up in a high-crime area and was told to always be careful, but, thank goodness, nothing ever happened. The closest I ever came to a "dangerous" situation was having a man follow me around in a fabric store in an upscale mall, watching my two-year-old. I told the store clerks that I was fairly certain he was following me and left with my daughter while a clerk questioned him. Two days later it was reported in the news that the same man was being sought after by the police after another person reported he was following them and watching their one-year-old.

    That experience was enough to scare me. I don't know how I'd be if I had an experience such as yours--I think it's great how you kept your wits about you and stayed aware of everything.

    You are also a very eloquent writer!

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  13. I don't think there's anything wrong with being a little paranoid... like you said, you're now more aware of your "gut feeling" and that's a good thing.

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  14. That's exactly what the police told me when I was "jumped" for my backpack in college. Use your 6th sense. I felt weird that the guy behind me was trailing me for so long...

    now I know why. God-given 6th sense. Which I ignored.

    Never again.

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  15. I have anxieties like this, especially since I became a mother, and I've been fortunate enough never to have experienced such violence firsthand. I always battle between following my intuition and worrying about offending whoever it is I'm suspicious of. Now, I will always risk offending. Thank you for sharing this.

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  16. Always, always, always listen to the hairs on your neck (Spidey sense)...I so get this post, raising kids in the city is scary. Then again, I think everything is getting scary these days:/

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  17. I'm so sorry that happened to you! Wow, how scary. And what a hassle to replace your ID and other things in your purse.

    You might be interested in the books The Gift of Fear and Protecting the Gift. The first one is about how our natural instinctive fear can protect us, and the second is how parents can use that to protect their children.

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  18. Shit. I had chills reading that. Very freaking scary.

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  19. I'm sorry, Cara. No one deserves to be violated in any manner. It can be hard to let that all-encompassing fear go. 2 very close people to me have had horrific things happen to them that altered the way our families view the world. I still try to live freely and trust everyone first instead of be scared, but the acts of violence didn't happen directly to ME, so the fear isn't as strong.

    Sigh. I don't know what I was trying to say. The timer is going off and everyone's whining and I wanted to tell you I love you and am sending you a hug.

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  20. My husband found the lawn chairs that were neatly stacked along the fence sitting dead center in our yard today. In the middle of the afternoon. Someone had been there but we don't know who. I'm trying not to be totally freaked out about that. It's hard for me not to succumb to overwhelming paranoia AND to pay attention to my instincts.

    Sometimes I wonder about whether we should stay in the city. Raising kids in the city is challenging but on the other hand where you live had nothing to do with what you experienced today.

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  21. I am finally getting around to reading this post Cara and boy, do I feel like a big piece of poo. I need to be more aware of my surroundings. I really should have stayed with you till you were driving away, I think I let my guard down during the daytime though. This was very well written, full of suspence. I just wish it was fiction though, I am sorry you had to go through that (both times).

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  22. oh dear girl - I am so sorry you had to experience this! But, I agree - be keen to your senses!

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  23. Whew! I think I was breathing hard by the time I got to the end. I'm so glad that you and your friend weren't physically hurt during the mugging.

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  24. Wow. First, how did I miss this post? And second? WOW. You're not paranoid. You are a product of what society has created. And it's heightened when you become a mom.

    That was truly scary. I felt it and I wasn't even there! Great post because it's a reminder to all of us to keep alert. That guy sounded like a pyscho to me as I read this. I actually think maybe your reaction and quick thinking might have frayed his intent. Whatever that was.

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  25. I was just talking to my sister about a similar situation I was in when I was young & stupid. And even though I haven't talked or thought about it in years it was then (and now again) that I realize how much it still impacts me.

    I'm totally paranoid about stuff. Every bump in the night freaks me out. And I wish I weren't like this most of the time. It gets tiring.

    Maybe we could get a group discount for some counseling?

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  26. I can't believe such a horrific thing happened to you. I am petrified of guns more than so many other things. I had a gun pointed at me once, when we were driving and had these teenagers throw showballs on our car, my husband slowed down to tell them off, and all I remember seeing is the gun... we filed a report with the cops, etc. It was scary as all heck. And once, years ago, in the year 2000, my husband owned a computer store, and he was help up at gun point. I wasn't there, but I can imagine his fear.
    What you went through and what you survived, that day, you'll never forget, and it has changed you, for sure. Fear like this doesn't just go away.
    "Better safe than sorry" - I totally believe that, in every circumstance, especially when we're with our children. Good for you for hurrying back into your car and locking your doors. I think we DO have a lot to worry about and especially after what you went through, well, it's normal to be extra worried and fearful. I wish I worried less, but I can't, it's just who I am. I'm sorry you went through that, my friend. HUGS.

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  27. That is terrifying. It's hard not to let all the what ifs be crippling. There is so much scary out there

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  28. Wow, you now have made me an emotional wreck! It was hard for me to read, but I couldn't stop reading. I'm so glad you and the little one are okay. Thanks for sharing...it is a fragile world we live in, and I am with you--it is so important to be vigilant. I sometimes am a little too nice, and I'm learning more and more to go with my gut no matter if it means I will offend someone. Great post!

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  29. I related a similar story (happened to another friend, not me) to a friend who is a Marine, and he made a valid point that I will never forget - Trust Your Instincts - it will save your life. You knew the hooded guy was bad news when you saw him. So the next guy wasn't. No harm done. It isn't paranoia, its being a smart and observant person.
    And this was a very well written post by the way - my heart is pounding for you and I can totally see you in both moments.

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Give me some sugar, baby!