Fuck

[janradder]

I was held up at gunpoint on Sunday night right in front of my own fucking house and I can't stop thinking about it.  I just got out of the shower where I kept going over and over what happened and what I could have done or what might have happened and my heart is beating too fast like I'm having a panic attack.

I'd just come home from Target (after buying some stocking stuffers for my sons).  I pulled up in front of the house at 8:15 p.m. and as I pulled on to our street I saw a man walking right down the middle of the street further down.  I got this kind of funny feeling about him but I didn't think too much about it because for some bizarre reason people in this city insist on walking down the middle of the street quite often.  I sat in the car for a few extra seconds listening to "This American Life" on the radio and then thought I should get out and get in the house because this guy was in the street and I didn't want to be sitting there when he walked past.  He'd been walking very slowly up to this point, almost lingering fifty yards away.  I got out of the car, Target bag in hand, leapt over a snow bank and started towards my front door which was only about twenty feet away.  From the street I heard a whistle and a "Hey," and I looked over, thinking this guy was going to ask for a cigarette or something, to see a gun pointing at me.

"Give me your fucking money," he says as he walks up to me.  I tell him I don't have any money, really.  "You're going to give me your fucking wallet,"  is his response.  This whole time he's pointing the gun at me. "Ok," I say.  Before I could get my wallet he grabs the front of my pants looking for my wallet and says, "Give me your fucking wallet."  At this point, he is right in front of me holding the gun which is aimed at my head.  It is sticking out the end of his jacket, a small 9mm semi-automatic.  I have my hands up, palms open and I tell him my wallet isn't there, it's in my jacket.  I slowly move my hand to my jacket and tell him that my wallet is right here inside my jacket and all I'm doing is getting it out.  This is when he put s the gun right into my face only a few inches away and says, "I'm going to shoot you in the fucking head."  I again tell him that I'm getting my wallet for him and I pull it out and hand it to him.  As soon as he has it, he turns and runs down the street, his back to me.  I watch him and think how easy it would be to just shoot him in the back if I had a gun as he runs away.

I keep thinking this.  I keep thinking, what if I'd had a gun, or what if I'd gotten into my car, chased after him and ran him down.  Of course I've also jokingly said to Haddayr that I should have just been like Bogart in The Maltese Falcon and grabbed the gun out of his hand then slapped him across the face.  But I also keep seeing that gun pointing at me and I keep hearing him tell me he's going to shoot me in the fucking head.  One of the things I said after I'd called the police was that I hope someone shoots him in the fucking head.  I meant it, too.  I think I still do.  I just can't stop thinking about that fucker and his gun and going over in my head what happened and then what would have happened if he had shot me.  I think about what he's done with my i. .d. and the cancelled credit cards.  I'm worried that there's going to be some big unpleasant surprise with our finances.  I just can't stop thinking about that gun.

Last night I had to take Arie to his therapy session and it was dark outside.  The car was in front of the house and Arie, blissfully unaware of the previous night ran out happily to the sidewalk.  "Wait, Arie,"  I told him.  "Wait for me."  I kept both boys close to me as I scanned the street looking for anyone suspicious.  There were two people walking down the sidewalk who scared me because maybe they were muggers (it turned out they were  friends of Haddayr's who were bringing us soup).  On the other side of the street was a dark figure walking in our direction who terrified me.  "Hi, Jan," the figure called out.  It was our neighbor form across the street.  Later that night, the dog had to be taken out.  I told Haddayr I'd like to do it because I thought I'd feel less scared with the dog.  I get out to the boulevard, looking around to see if anyone is approaching and what do I see but a dark figure walking towards us down the middle of the street.  I told myself that it couldn't be a mugger but I was absol8utely terrified.  My heart was racing and I was certain the person was going to pull a gun on me.  The mugger was Somali and everywhere I see a brown Somali face that looks even vaguely similar to the mugger's, I think, "That's him."

I just can't stop thinking about this and I feel sick and scared and panicked and really sad and depressed.  This really sucks.

Comments

[buymeaclue.livejournal.com]

I don't know what to say, really. But I'm glad you didn't get hurt.

[tim-pratt.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry, Jan. I was mugged in front of my old place in Oakland a few years back, and it was terrifying (though not as terrifying as your experience, as I was merely shown the gun, and didn't get it shoved in my face). I had no money at all, not even my wallet, as we were in the process of moving to our new apartment, and I'd just driven over to get a last load of crap from the yard. I was so afraid the guy was going to kill me when I couldn't give him anything (I don't even wear a watch!), but he just cursed and wandered off.

Later that night, I was driving a few blocks away, and I saw the guy walking down the sidewalk, and I've never had to restrain myself so severely -- I wanted more than anything to gun the engine, jump the curb, and run him down. To make him feel powerless the way he'd made me feel powerless. But Heather was with me, and I didn't want her to see me run a guy over, nor did I relish the prospect of going to jail, so I restrained myself. But I know what you mean about wishing death on the guy. I at least had the advantage of moving to a new house, so I didn't have to spend much time on that same sidewalk. (Then again, my next door neighbor at my current residence was carjacked right outside his garage earlier this year, but that's another story...)

[skylarker.livejournal.com]

You don't know me (Stopped by via haddayr's LJ), but I'm very sorry to hear this happened to you. It sounds terrifying.

If it's any comfort, there's probably no need to wish harm on this person who assaulted you. He sounds like the kind of person who will undoubtedly come to a bad end through his own actions.

[jamiam.livejournal.com]

Wow. I'd heard that story--I think you told it at WisCon?--but I'd never heard the second part, about seeing the guy on the street later. And well... wow.

I have a friend who kept the crowbar used to break into his car. He carried it around in his trunk for more than a year, on the off chance that he might bump into the jokers at some later date. I think he had some fantasy about throwing it through their windshield? Maybe with a note about how they'd left it in his car, so he thought he'd better return it?

Anyway. I'm very impressed that you managed to check your reaction.

This too shall pass

[timalyne.livejournal.com]

Talk to someone professional, even just once. Trauma like this shouldn't have to sit on your heart. And just let yourself feel the emotions. Don't pass judgment on yourself for how you feel.

[silk-noir.livejournal.com]

You have every right to be sick and scared and panicked and sad and fucking furious. The mind movie is going to get stuck on this one for a while, hon. That does not mean anything bad about you. If you have access to a counselor, go see one a few times. That will help the digestion.

[wisconsinwriter.livejournal.com]

Ditto on this. I've been thinking of you guys every day since I first heard. Take care of yourselves.

[jennreese.livejournal.com]

I don't really know what to say either, except that it sounds like you handled yourself and the situation perfectly. I've studied martial arts for years, and you can't do anything if someone points a gun at you like that. Even high-ranking black belts hand over their wallets when that happens.

I'm really sorry about all of this. Stuff like this just shouldn't happen. :-(

[gregvaneekhout.livejournal.com]

I'm so glad you had the presence of mind to give the mugger your wallet, and that you didn't go for the gun. Being able to walk away physically unharmed earns you a real life black belt.

[naomikritzer]

Yeah, that.

I read a book on personal safety a few years ago called "The Gift of Fear," and the author, a personal-security consultant, says that if you got away from a situation like this alive, that means you handled it exactly the right way, and try to remember that when you're second-guessing yourself.

[allochthon.livejournal.com]

You don't know me, Jan, I'm a casual friend of Haddayr's, who I usually see at Naomikritzer's. I know this is days later, but I wanted to follow up on what Naomi said. You did do exactly the right thing. *Exactly.*

"The Gift of Fear" also tells the reader to pay attention to those feelings, those instincts, that say "that guy walking down the street is up to no good," or "hahaha! I bet that package is a bomb!" The book recommends following those instincts, because the worse that can happen is looking foolish, the best is saving a life.

[jamiam.livejournal.com]

Oh, man. The aftermath sounds almost worse than the actual mugging--I guess because you couldn't think about it while it was happening, and you get to think about it again and again and again?

(You did the right thing, you know. Everything you did, your instincts were spot on--you did the right thing, because you're still alive, and unhurt.)

[rambleflower.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry this happened to you! It sounds like you did the right thing, and I'm very glad you're physically ok. These things take some time to leave our minds, though, in my experience, but I hope the feeling passes soon. Take care!

[matociquala.livejournal.com]

Here via haddayr's blog.

You absolutely did the right thing.

What you're experiencing is traumatic response. It's normal. It's also irritating and scary and no fun, and it can turn into post-traumatic stress disorder in some cases. (PTSD is not as prevalent or as automatic as the media would have us believe.)

You're having an adaptive response to a life-threatening situation, though, and I agree that it wouldn;t be a bad idea to talk to a trauma counselor for some coping strategies.

ditto

[rsheslin.livejournal.com]

Just wanting to echo the recommendations of others who have encouraged you to talk to a professional. (My dad's a shrink/PTSD specialist but, alas, too far away to do you much good at the moment.)

[devils-interval.livejournal.com]

I'm sorry that happened to you! I was mugged (it was years ago!) around the corner from my house. It wasn't at gunpoint-- the guy pushed me down and took my purse (I was pregnant and an easy target.) For a long time I kept seeing his face in other faces.

About the dog-- I was with my dog, who was sort of fierce with strangers-- but the dog just sat calmly and didn't go after the guy. Until then I'd thought people with dogs were safe from muggers--who would take the chance of attacking someone with a dog? But the guy was desperate, and desperate people take chances.

[club166.livejournal.com]

Just want to second what others have said. The best resolution of a violent conflict is not you winning- it's not losing. You survived, and physically intact at that. You had the presence of mind to do exactly what was required to get you out of that situation. You have prevailed.

I drove a taxi a long time ago in a big city, and got held up twice (one guy said he had a gun, the other showed me the gun but didn't brandish it in my face). But the scariest encounter I had was when I was jumped by three people right in front of my apartment one night. They started by running up and hitting me over the head with a blunt object, and then trying to take me down. Throughout the 45-60 seconds of the encounter, I kept thinking that one of them was going to shoot me (I thought that the object I was hit with was the butt end of a gun). I had nightmares for three months after that, but finally got back to feeling mostly back to normal. Part of the anxiety/fear is that they had the NERVE to do this right in front of where I lived. If they had asked for my wallet (without physically attacking me) I would have given it to them. But the unknown of what they intended was pretty unnerving.

It got better for me, and it will for you, too. It helps to talk to people.

Joe

[geniusofevil.livejournal.com]

One time, some guy broke into my apartment and into my bedroom where I was sleeping (where I was sleeping naked, I should say).

Past the fear that kept me awake and unable to sleep well for a few weeks, the worst thing was that I regretted what I did when it happened. Which was that I hid under the sheet and let someone else take care of the problem for me.

Before that moment, I never really thought of myself as a coward. And after that I did. I think that when something life-changing happens so fast, it's really hard to come to grips with our role in the event.

You're really mad that he made you feel scared in your own home, made you feel like your wife and children's lives were/are in danger, made you afraid to do your daily routine, made you afraid of how this will affect you in the future after you've dealt with these emotions, made you mad at yourself for not following your first instinct about him, and mad that he makes you notice race.

What you need to do now is have a plan for if it happens again. You will feel more in control and it will give you something concrete to do. When you walk outside and have that moment of panic, figure out what you would do if it was real and you were really in danger.

Now, I'm not asking you to feel sorry for your attacker, but you and I both know that even if you shot and killed him you would not feel one bit safer. Because it wasn't the person, it was the act and what it did to how you see your home and loved ones. And wasting your time in revenge fantasies may make you feel better but it's also heightening your sense of vulnerability.

Also, did you see this episode? Third quote block down?
http://www.quotesfromtheoffice.com/episodes/season_3/the_convict.htm

[http://users.livejournal.com/_stranger_here/]

You got hit by a force of destruction in the world, as random and impersonal as a snake or a hurricane. It's atrocious that a stranger can do something that causes so much helpless rage and does such damage to your sense of safety and sanity and faith in your fellow humans. I'm all furious and violent on your behalf just thinking about it.

I hope that in time you'll regain some of what was lost, but for now I'm just so sorry this happened to you.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

What matters to me is that you weren't hurt by that thoughtless fuck. I hope the anxiety lessens, and if it doesn't I agree that you should talk to someone.

Take care.

[sal-e-peters.livejournal.com]

Hi Jan, I'm here via Haddayr's journal.

Thank you for writing this down, and for being aware of so much that is going on in your head.

Inside our fabulous neo-cortex, Is the limbic system, and within that is our amygdala. It is the part of our brain we would like to forget, as reasoning advanced beings, but we still need it sometimes in order to stay alive. That ancient part of your brain was ignited when you needed to know what to do, to live. When it's fired powerfully enough, it's difficult to shut off, your reticular system is still on hyper-alert and trying to keep you safe. It even happens when you are in a car wreck, and don't have to worry about stuff happening outside your door. I am grateful that it kept you safe.

As the people above have said, this will take time to truly process. I wish you a path as easy as may be.

In the meantime, it wouldn't hurt to let Haddayr do a stillpoint on you....or two. :-)

[dans-la-reine.livejournal.com]

I'm sorry so much was taken from you. While reading I kept thinking of haddayr and the babies, my god, in an instant there would've been so much pain. I don't like thinking of how fragile everything is and if I try to imagine the gun I feel terror. I'm glad you're alive.

[sarahgoss.livejournal.com]

Hi Jan, I am here via Haddayr's journal. I know there's not much I can say that will help, but what you went through sounds like a trauma, and everything you're describing seems completely and totally understandable (though of course that doesn't make it suck less). I guess I just wanted to leave a comment to say how very greatly I felt for you when I read what had happened, in Haddayr's brief account but now all the more so in this very vivid and terrifying one you've written. It makes me feel sick, too, imagining it. I'd have wanted to kill the guy, too, but I am so glad you handled it the way you did. I wish I could bring you soup, too.

[albionidaho.livejournal.com]

Hi, Jan. I'm here via Haddayr. I just wanted to say I am glad you are okay, and that you dealt with it in the best way you could.

Take care.

[pnew8.livejournal.com]

Jan, I hate that this happened to you. I hate that you are having to go through the fear and anxiety aftermath.

I've never been mugged and never have had a gun pointed at me, or in my face, but there has been trauma once or twice in my life. It's horrid. Worse than the actual event. I hated that. Hated it. The mind loops and twists and lunges like a crocodile.

I only mention this because if you hate it as much as I hated it, your family doctor could subscribe a light dosage of something to help ease your mind.

You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers. You made the right choices under pressure and in my mind you are the heroic one.

Reenie's Thoughts

[reeniesreach.livejournal.com]

Hi, Jan. I'm here via Haddayr, via Electric Grandmothe/ Maggie. This is a horrible story and I am so sorry you’ve had to endure the trauma. My son is 22 years old and in his young life has had a gun pointed at him twice. The first time was by a nitwit security guard and a false arrest. The second time was by a Haitian pretend cab driver in Florida. My son got separated from his friends and became an easy mark. He got into the cab alone and was *kidnapped*, driven a great distance to a remote location, robbed at gunpoint, then abandoned. I still feel sick when I think of what could have happened. And then just last week he was in D.C. and … too long to describe, but he has $40 less in his wallet and a gun wasn't involved. Best wishes to you and recovering from this episode. The advice to seek advice is a sound one. Hmmm. I think I’ll call my son.