I'm in my hometown of Fairfax, VA for a couple of days. It feels good to be out of New York for a little bit. I'm hoping that time away will help me calm down so I can come back to the city with a new perspective.
It's been a week and I'm tired of thinking about it. I'm tired of talking about it. I'm especially tired of talking about it because talking to other people is my escape from thinking about it. It's constantly in my brain pulling at my attention. Mostly it's because I'm worried about having another panic attack and trying to avoid putting myself in a position of being scared again. Then I think back to what happened and how it could have gone differently, both good and bad. How I could have fought back or how I should have shut the door in his face or thrown the money away from me or screamed or asked if he had a weapon or taken a cab or if he had tried to touch me what I would have done or if I was shot what I would have done. A million different scenarios have gone through my head and the only way to keep them at bay is to get involved in something else.
Busy Busy Busy.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Where my anger lies
It makes me so angry that it was a black man who robbed me.
It just falls into the stereotype of black men in Harlem. And I hate that for the time being I'm afraid of black men. In my specific case I'm only afraid of the anonymous black man on the street who I'm passing, not those I already know or meet through friends or whatever whatever.
And the more people I talk to about this the more people I find who have been mugged or robbed and it's always a black man. What the fuck?! My friend who works at Ripley-Grier, the cab driver last night who got his entire cab stolen..... Why fall into every stereotype and expectation the most ignorant person on the planet has for you? And I'm angry that for the time being I'm included in that ignorant population.
But I'm not ignorant. Rationally I know that anyone of any race can be a threat or can be a hero. Emotionally my heart stops every time I pass a black guy. Or every time a black guy comes on the subway. And I live in Harlem so how often do you think that happens? If you answered "every second" then you'd be right.
I'm angry that I have these feelings. and I'm very impatient with myself. I want to be done with now. but I've still got miles to go before I rest......
It just falls into the stereotype of black men in Harlem. And I hate that for the time being I'm afraid of black men. In my specific case I'm only afraid of the anonymous black man on the street who I'm passing, not those I already know or meet through friends or whatever whatever.
And the more people I talk to about this the more people I find who have been mugged or robbed and it's always a black man. What the fuck?! My friend who works at Ripley-Grier, the cab driver last night who got his entire cab stolen..... Why fall into every stereotype and expectation the most ignorant person on the planet has for you? And I'm angry that for the time being I'm included in that ignorant population.
But I'm not ignorant. Rationally I know that anyone of any race can be a threat or can be a hero. Emotionally my heart stops every time I pass a black guy. Or every time a black guy comes on the subway. And I live in Harlem so how often do you think that happens? If you answered "every second" then you'd be right.
I'm angry that I have these feelings. and I'm very impatient with myself. I want to be done with now. but I've still got miles to go before I rest......
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
I Watch
Morning and night I'm drawn to the curtainless living room windows. I know the people outside can see me so I try not to stay too long. But I can resist staring.
I watch the people walking up and down the street.
I watch the people standing on the stoops watching the world go by.
I watch people talking to each other.
I watch the mailman come.
I watch the man walking his dog.
I watch the white girl with the big sunglasses walking down the street.
I watch the homeless guy going through the trash cans.
I watch, I watch, I watch.
If I identify with the person, I try to see if they feel safe. If I see the person as different from me, I try to determine if they mean good or ill.
I've been watching from a state of fear and interpreting the world through that veil. Once I realized the tension I have while watching and the skepticism I had, I've tried to actively change my thought process.
Now I approach the window with a positive feeling. I look at those that are talking and try to think thoughts like "Isn't it wonderful to see people in the community talking to each other?" I try to focus on the smiling people. I actively look for examples of safety and security to reinforce that thought process.
I used to see the street as safe. I used to step out into the cool air and the sun and feel the freshness of the day. I used to smile at people coming in and out of my building. I used to feel at ease.
I want that feeling back.
I watch the people walking up and down the street.
I watch the people standing on the stoops watching the world go by.
I watch people talking to each other.
I watch the mailman come.
I watch the man walking his dog.
I watch the white girl with the big sunglasses walking down the street.
I watch the homeless guy going through the trash cans.
I watch, I watch, I watch.
If I identify with the person, I try to see if they feel safe. If I see the person as different from me, I try to determine if they mean good or ill.
I've been watching from a state of fear and interpreting the world through that veil. Once I realized the tension I have while watching and the skepticism I had, I've tried to actively change my thought process.
Now I approach the window with a positive feeling. I look at those that are talking and try to think thoughts like "Isn't it wonderful to see people in the community talking to each other?" I try to focus on the smiling people. I actively look for examples of safety and security to reinforce that thought process.
I used to see the street as safe. I used to step out into the cool air and the sun and feel the freshness of the day. I used to smile at people coming in and out of my building. I used to feel at ease.
I want that feeling back.
Nightmares and calls
When I got off the phone with my mom last night she said, "At least you haven't had any nightmares."
Tonight I had a nightmare.
But not what you'd think.
I was riding on a bus with my mom and we had luggage with us. We were traveling to our house in Fairfax and debating where to be dropped off. Finally I convinced her to go where I thought was closest and we got off. She had he purse on top of her suitcase, open. A skinny brunette girl with square cut bangs and straight hair cam up and started to try and go through my mom's purse. I went over to stop her, saying "hello", waving at her then starting to curse at her and, when she wouldn't stop coming closer, I wanted to hit her. I kept using the word "fuck" and it shocked my mom and embarrassed her that the girl and her mother would hear me use that. She apologized to the strangers and invited them over to the house. They came over and I was still angry and saying "fuck" a lot and my mom kept apologizing for me an trying to hush me up. That just made me angrier because here are these people who are trying to take advantage of her and all she can worry about is my language. And now we are fighting while the strangers are left alone in the living room
I woke up unsettled. I stayed perfectly still as if that would help me figure out what that was all about. A tingly sensation went through my body signaling the transition between sleeping and waking. the whole dream left me unsettled and scared but I don't know why. I turned on the lights in my room and checked my email only to find that there was a message for me left on my answering service. I check it and it's a message from Detective Lopez regarding my "robbery complaint." He left it at 12:09am and it was now 3:49am. I turned on my cell phone and tried the number. It rang and rang with no answer. I hang up and see a text from Shahnee saying the detective called her trying to find me.
Why do they need to talk to me?
I have all these images in my head of going down to the 30th precinct and having to pick the guy from a lineup. He's in there for something else but something about him matches the description I gave. Maybe the jacked up teeth. I think that if I had to pick them out I'd have to make them smile. That smile has stuck with me. Over and over again I see that smile. He smiled when I held the door open, he smiled as he came towards me. I can't get that smile out of my head. It was so simple when it started and now it's mutated into the definition of something disgusting and dirty and deceitful.
So now 2 hours or more later I'm still up. I've finished the latest book I was reading and tried to cal the detective 3 more times. It's probably nothing, maybe just working through paperwork. But why call at midnight? The curiosity is killing me.
Tonight I had a nightmare.
But not what you'd think.
I was riding on a bus with my mom and we had luggage with us. We were traveling to our house in Fairfax and debating where to be dropped off. Finally I convinced her to go where I thought was closest and we got off. She had he purse on top of her suitcase, open. A skinny brunette girl with square cut bangs and straight hair cam up and started to try and go through my mom's purse. I went over to stop her, saying "hello", waving at her then starting to curse at her and, when she wouldn't stop coming closer, I wanted to hit her. I kept using the word "fuck" and it shocked my mom and embarrassed her that the girl and her mother would hear me use that. She apologized to the strangers and invited them over to the house. They came over and I was still angry and saying "fuck" a lot and my mom kept apologizing for me an trying to hush me up. That just made me angrier because here are these people who are trying to take advantage of her and all she can worry about is my language. And now we are fighting while the strangers are left alone in the living room
I woke up unsettled. I stayed perfectly still as if that would help me figure out what that was all about. A tingly sensation went through my body signaling the transition between sleeping and waking. the whole dream left me unsettled and scared but I don't know why. I turned on the lights in my room and checked my email only to find that there was a message for me left on my answering service. I check it and it's a message from Detective Lopez regarding my "robbery complaint." He left it at 12:09am and it was now 3:49am. I turned on my cell phone and tried the number. It rang and rang with no answer. I hang up and see a text from Shahnee saying the detective called her trying to find me.
Why do they need to talk to me?
I have all these images in my head of going down to the 30th precinct and having to pick the guy from a lineup. He's in there for something else but something about him matches the description I gave. Maybe the jacked up teeth. I think that if I had to pick them out I'd have to make them smile. That smile has stuck with me. Over and over again I see that smile. He smiled when I held the door open, he smiled as he came towards me. I can't get that smile out of my head. It was so simple when it started and now it's mutated into the definition of something disgusting and dirty and deceitful.
So now 2 hours or more later I'm still up. I've finished the latest book I was reading and tried to cal the detective 3 more times. It's probably nothing, maybe just working through paperwork. But why call at midnight? The curiosity is killing me.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Good from Bad
I posted a letter by the mailboxes telling the neighbors what happened and also urging them to be careful about letting people in. I signed it and wrote my apartment number down so people could contact me if they wanted. 2 of the 3 other apartments on my floor stopped by to talk to me about it and say they were sorry. While we were talking the third apartment came out and we were able to talk to her a bit. They smoke a lot of weed and the hallway constantly smells of it and there was a whiff of it when she was walking out so I think she was a little confused at first. After we told her what had happened, she went back inside to tell her roommates.
The three of us, Myra, Jason and me, talked about what had happened and what we could do in the future. We are all going to be bugging the building people to fix the buzzers and intercoms so we can use them properly. Right now we can't talk on them or hear anything so they are kind of useless. We've complained before but now there is more of an urgency to get it fixed. The safety issue has been illuminated.
We also talked about forming a group or committee in the building so we can ban together and get some of the things done that need to be done in the building. They can ignore individuals but they can't ignore a whole group. Plus, we'd all know more people in the building.
That's the greatest good to come of this. The neighbors are being really supportive and I'm getting to know them more. If we know each other more it becomes more of a community and we can watch out for each other and go to each other for help. And that will make everything safer too!
The three of us, Myra, Jason and me, talked about what had happened and what we could do in the future. We are all going to be bugging the building people to fix the buzzers and intercoms so we can use them properly. Right now we can't talk on them or hear anything so they are kind of useless. We've complained before but now there is more of an urgency to get it fixed. The safety issue has been illuminated.
We also talked about forming a group or committee in the building so we can ban together and get some of the things done that need to be done in the building. They can ignore individuals but they can't ignore a whole group. Plus, we'd all know more people in the building.
That's the greatest good to come of this. The neighbors are being really supportive and I'm getting to know them more. If we know each other more it becomes more of a community and we can watch out for each other and go to each other for help. And that will make everything safer too!
Freak OUT
My freak out for the day:
1) I was walking up the stairs to my apartment and waiting outside the door to the apartment across the hall was a young black man. I almost ran back down the stairs and outside but my rational side took over.
2) On my way back from laundry, I passed a black male on the corner with a tan hat on and almost freaked.
Everyone on the street looks like a threat, everyone seems to be sizing me up, everyone looks angry.
How long will this last?
1) I was walking up the stairs to my apartment and waiting outside the door to the apartment across the hall was a young black man. I almost ran back down the stairs and outside but my rational side took over.
2) On my way back from laundry, I passed a black male on the corner with a tan hat on and almost freaked.
Everyone on the street looks like a threat, everyone seems to be sizing me up, everyone looks angry.
How long will this last?
Monday, March 24, 2008
Mom and Dad
I've talked to my mom every day since it happened. Since my grandfather/her father's death, we've all been a lot closer. It's been really nice
When it first happened, I wanted to protect my parents from the news. They were the first people I wanted to call but I also prepared myself for the call, for the freak out that was bound to happen. They would be shocked, hysterical, over-the-top upset. I need time to steel myself against the onslaught of emotions.
But it didn't come.
My dad answered the phone when I first called. He was happy to hear from me and was asking me how I was. This was before my first panic attack so I said I was fine. I wasn't lying.
"I have something I need to tell you. First, I'm ok. Just know that I'm ok. I was mugged last night"
Then comes the inevitable question, a different euphemism depending on the person.
Were you touched? Were you assaulted? Were you attacked?
No, I was very lucky. It could have gone so much worse.
My dad was very calm about everything. He is a retired police officer so he can go into police mode and find the details. He's seen it all and knows how bad it could get. He treads lightly and slowly with his questions and lets me tell it at my pace. He says he will tell mom when she gets back so she can be calm when she talks to me.
My mom is calm when we finally talk later in the day. She's been robbed, mugged and assaulted several times. She knows where I'm coming from and is really helpful to talk to. Except she expects me to react the same way she does. She gets angry immediately, I'm not there yet. I don't know if I will be. Right now I'm just kind of there.
When I call her the day after the panic attack, she listens to me relive it. She tells me not to be so hard on myself and give myself some time to get better. I didn't realize I was being hard on myself.
I am though. She's right.
When did the change happen that I realized how much valuable advice my mom had?
I'm so glad I have them to talk to. They are very comforting to me. I was so worried my news would break them but I'm strong because they are strong too. They have been so supportive without being condescending, without treating me like a child.
It's pretty amazing to realize you don't just love your parents, you actually really like them too.
When it first happened, I wanted to protect my parents from the news. They were the first people I wanted to call but I also prepared myself for the call, for the freak out that was bound to happen. They would be shocked, hysterical, over-the-top upset. I need time to steel myself against the onslaught of emotions.
But it didn't come.
My dad answered the phone when I first called. He was happy to hear from me and was asking me how I was. This was before my first panic attack so I said I was fine. I wasn't lying.
"I have something I need to tell you. First, I'm ok. Just know that I'm ok. I was mugged last night"
Then comes the inevitable question, a different euphemism depending on the person.
Were you touched? Were you assaulted? Were you attacked?
No, I was very lucky. It could have gone so much worse.
My dad was very calm about everything. He is a retired police officer so he can go into police mode and find the details. He's seen it all and knows how bad it could get. He treads lightly and slowly with his questions and lets me tell it at my pace. He says he will tell mom when she gets back so she can be calm when she talks to me.
My mom is calm when we finally talk later in the day. She's been robbed, mugged and assaulted several times. She knows where I'm coming from and is really helpful to talk to. Except she expects me to react the same way she does. She gets angry immediately, I'm not there yet. I don't know if I will be. Right now I'm just kind of there.
When I call her the day after the panic attack, she listens to me relive it. She tells me not to be so hard on myself and give myself some time to get better. I didn't realize I was being hard on myself.
I am though. She's right.
When did the change happen that I realized how much valuable advice my mom had?
I'm so glad I have them to talk to. They are very comforting to me. I was so worried my news would break them but I'm strong because they are strong too. They have been so supportive without being condescending, without treating me like a child.
It's pretty amazing to realize you don't just love your parents, you actually really like them too.
I'm so frustrated with myself
Today I had a place to be all day.
Work.
Meeting.
Rehearsal.
I was due home around 9:30pm but rehearsal let out early and I was home around 9:15pm. I walked with others from Theatre Row to the train and was fine. I kept monitoring my thoughts. Am I scared now? Does this make me scared? Is this alright?
I annoyed myself. I was fine, didn't feel threatened and was calm.
My friend had to go on a different train and I rode the train by myself. I sat next to a black guy. I wasn't scared at all. I was still monitoring myself to see where my limit was but everything was fine. I wasn't scared, but I was dreading the walk home.
I got off the train. I took a deep breath.
I'm going to be fine.
It's all fine.
Up the stairs, through the turnstile, up more stairs and out into the night.
I'm walking really fast.
Why did he just look at me? I'm sure it's nothing.
Who is that behind me? not threatening.
Cross the street, check behind me.
Turn the corner, check behind me.
Pass the pay phones, check behind me.
Get to the store, turn onto 143, check behind me....
someone is there, male, dark skin. I turn back to the corner store.
Feeling slightly nervous.
Call my roommate, straight to voicemail.
I try again.
Turn the corner, check behind me, male, dark skin, back to the corner store.
More nervous, pacing back and forth.
I dial 911 on my phone and prepare to hit call.
I try again.
Turn the corner, check behind me, male, black, walking quickly, back the corner store.
Really scared now. I can't even make it a few steps.
People across the street are staring at the crazy white bitch.
I try my roommate again. Straight to voicemail.
There is a worker outside of the store and I summon the courage to ask him to walk me.
I offer to pay him.
He calls someone else over to translate for him but I can speak Spanish. I'm in tears now. He refuses, he has to work.
I'm completely breaking down now crying on the corner of Amsterdam and 143. I have no idea how to make it home or what to do.
I spot a cop car parked at the intersection and I quickly walk to it. I try to control myself but I'm very much breaking down. I'm having trouble breathing and cannot control the crying.
The officer rolls down the window.
"I was just mugged a couple days ago and I'm scared to walk down the street to my apartment. It's literally right there and I can't make it."
"Do you want a ride?"
"I would love a ride. thank you so much"
They ask me questions about when it happened, did I report it, was it only a robbery.
I answer and keep apologizing:
For crying.
For the inconvenience.
For being so weak.
They drop me off, wait for the door to close firmly behind me.
I run upstairs, go inside, sob to my roommate.
She left her cell phone at her parents house. They're fed-exing it tomorrow.
She hugs me and lets me freak out.
I'm so frustrated with myself.
Work.
Meeting.
Rehearsal.
I was due home around 9:30pm but rehearsal let out early and I was home around 9:15pm. I walked with others from Theatre Row to the train and was fine. I kept monitoring my thoughts. Am I scared now? Does this make me scared? Is this alright?
I annoyed myself. I was fine, didn't feel threatened and was calm.
My friend had to go on a different train and I rode the train by myself. I sat next to a black guy. I wasn't scared at all. I was still monitoring myself to see where my limit was but everything was fine. I wasn't scared, but I was dreading the walk home.
I got off the train. I took a deep breath.
I'm going to be fine.
It's all fine.
Up the stairs, through the turnstile, up more stairs and out into the night.
I'm walking really fast.
Why did he just look at me? I'm sure it's nothing.
Who is that behind me? not threatening.
Cross the street, check behind me.
Turn the corner, check behind me.
Pass the pay phones, check behind me.
Get to the store, turn onto 143, check behind me....
someone is there, male, dark skin. I turn back to the corner store.
Feeling slightly nervous.
Call my roommate, straight to voicemail.
I try again.
Turn the corner, check behind me, male, dark skin, back to the corner store.
More nervous, pacing back and forth.
I dial 911 on my phone and prepare to hit call.
I try again.
Turn the corner, check behind me, male, black, walking quickly, back the corner store.
Really scared now. I can't even make it a few steps.
People across the street are staring at the crazy white bitch.
I try my roommate again. Straight to voicemail.
There is a worker outside of the store and I summon the courage to ask him to walk me.
I offer to pay him.
He calls someone else over to translate for him but I can speak Spanish. I'm in tears now. He refuses, he has to work.
I'm completely breaking down now crying on the corner of Amsterdam and 143. I have no idea how to make it home or what to do.
I spot a cop car parked at the intersection and I quickly walk to it. I try to control myself but I'm very much breaking down. I'm having trouble breathing and cannot control the crying.
The officer rolls down the window.
"I was just mugged a couple days ago and I'm scared to walk down the street to my apartment. It's literally right there and I can't make it."
"Do you want a ride?"
"I would love a ride. thank you so much"
They ask me questions about when it happened, did I report it, was it only a robbery.
I answer and keep apologizing:
For crying.
For the inconvenience.
For being so weak.
They drop me off, wait for the door to close firmly behind me.
I run upstairs, go inside, sob to my roommate.
She left her cell phone at her parents house. They're fed-exing it tomorrow.
She hugs me and lets me freak out.
I'm so frustrated with myself.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
In hiding
Today I didn't leave the house. I was supposed to do laundry but I convinced myself I'd have time during the week. I most definitely don't have time during the week. I just didn't want to leave the house. There's this huge barrier between me an the outside world. When I picture myself leaving the apartment I remember being cornered. I remember him two steps up to the third floor, looking over his shoulder, smiling, coming towards me.
After my panic attack yesterday I'm afraid of being out at night and having another one. I know I can't hide forever. But hiding away today was good.
After my panic attack yesterday I'm afraid of being out at night and having another one. I know I can't hide forever. But hiding away today was good.
Drinking at 9....am
Its Easter morning and I'm drinking at 9am to calm myself down. I was going to do laundry as soon as I woke up today but noon seems safer to me. I imagine most people around this area are with their families or at church. Those who don't celebrate are sleeping in. So who is out on the streets now? I don't know and I don't want to find out.
Noon seems safer to me.
Noon seems safer to me.
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