I've had a really shitty month.
First a friend died. She was staying with her mates up in the Adelaide Hills and complained of a head ache. This friend is a fit woman. She hikes. She camps out. She's the first one at festivals - she's the bee's knees.
Her friend, a registered nurse, noticed it wasn't a normal headache and rang the ambulance. I guess she spotted stuff the average Joe like me would miss. Unfortunately, my friend collapsed from the headache and despite being quickly transported to the hospital remained in a coma.
She was operated on quickly and doctors released blood on the brain - an aneurysm. She was still under sedation for about 2 - 3 days recovering when she had a major stroke and became brain-dead. The machine sustaining her life was turned off about 5 days later with close friends and family around.
Although I hadn't seen this beautiful woman in a few months I really felt her death. My daughter who was fond of her too also grieved. We remembered the beautiful smile and the gifts she'd given us. Those of friendship and knitted winter woolies. I sent my sincerest condolences to her daughter.
The Thursday before Jean's ashes were due to be scattered in the beautiful Mt Lofty Ranges, I was burgled.
The burglary really rattled me. I really cried. And then cried some more. I was anxious. I felt unsafe. I felt violated. And I was furious.
They stole alot of gold and my daughter's Mac Book Pro. I was angry about the Mac Book Pro because she had worked like a dog checking groceries for a good 12 months to save for it. Also all of her uni papers were on it and photos from year 10, year 11 and year 12, including her graduation and senior ball.
I was furious about the gold because although they're expensive, they're also really sentimental. My mother's mother' wedding ring. A matching set of earrings and ring (all diamonds) Three beautiful 18k bracelets with heart padlocks given to me when I birthed Carissa - like I said, devastated.
The threat to my security really made me fearful to leave the house again. Of course, I had to return to work eventually but the thought of leaving Carissa here by herself frightened me. What if they came back? What if they raped her? What if ..... what if....
It is those what if's that both arm and disarm you, in my opinion, for your recovery.
I had to stand outside of my house and really assess the weaknesses and then reduce or stop those weaknesses from being opportunity to burgle again. Of course, everyone has an opinion about burglaries. Some say 'they'll be back within a month' or ' give it a week' or 'my brother was burgled and this is what happened to him.....' or worse "I know how you feel' ....
None of that is useful or soothing or supportive to me.
I found myself stopping people who used the home invasion as leverage to launch into their own tirade. I said 'I need to stop you there. I don't have any capacity to make this about you, right now. I'm feeling sad and vulnerable about what happened to me' and sometimes, they'd get it. "oh, sorry. Yeh right"
Or , yes yes I know but I have to tell you about my sister in law, well, this and that and this some more.
Never in my life have I felt like getting married and getting a Bull Mastiff in the same weekend.
We're recovering now. Slowly. Very mindful of our surroundings. Our behaviours and our vulnerability and like I said, closing those opportunities.
We now have big fuck off chains around the gates to our property. It's a pain in the ass but I can sleep at night now. Without the Mastiff.