So yesterday I decided that in addition to being robbed, they also took my sense of safety with them.
There's never been any place that I have not felt "safe." In every home I've felt safe — to the point of my detriment sometimes. Just always feeling that I would be ok there. That nothing would happen there.
In the dreams I've been having, I'm dying. The one I remember from this morning, I was drowning. I know now that's because a little piece of me has died. That part of me that felt safe anywhere. Anytime.
This thing has literally knocked me off balance. I've been having a hard time with my vertigo. It's something I've struggled with since I was a child, but has gotten better as I've gotten older.
Well, except for the falling part. I fall more than anyone I know. And this morning was no different.
I didn't lift my foot high enough and hit the edge of my back deck this morning. I hate that moment when I realize I am going down.
I landed pretty hard on my left knee. For some reason it always seems to get the brunt of my falls. It's been a couple years since my last really good fall at Uncle Bud's house. It is swollen and the skin is scraped off, but I'll survive.
I'm at the library right now because I was having writing withdrawal. Yet at the same time I am afraid to buy a new computer because they might come back to get it. I hate to think I'll need an alarm system before I can feel safe in my own home again.