In the last year living in Trinidad I have been attacked or witnessed others attacked more than 6 times. Some were very violent, some involved guns, robbery, blood, inhumane reactions. My home was broken into, I was robbed in front of my door, I was robbed on my way home, robbed in a foreign country, attacked in other ways by people claiming to love me. I took each with stride and thought I was ok. Now I find myself cracking for the first time and I really don’t know how to handle it. This is not a case of being involved in wrong doing, No-one around me was specifically targeted in the more violent attacks, at least not that I knew. Going about, working hard and minding my own business only to have a gun pointed at my head.
I think now I can say very clearly…I am very, very scared.
My life is now an ungoing series of anxious moments. Jumping up in the night at every bump, every thump, every rattle of leaves, banging door, or metal sound. Quite a lot of work if you live with close neighbors, many trees, many more pigeons outside and two active kittens. I’ve installed an alarm system and burglar proof. Yet every night I expect to find a gunman in my living room.
Today I walked out to a shop on the corner from work. A little Chinese grocery. A man walked in, walked across looking down every isle his hand in his pocket under his shirt. He turns to the cashier
“Chinee you alone here?”
I start trembling. The cashier does not look up or reply. The man asks louder
“Aye you alone here Chinee?”
The cashier mumbles yes. By this time I am ready to jump out of my skin. My eyes dart nervously between the man’s hidden hand, his face, the cashier’s face, the door, the others in line and the money outstretched in my hand willing it into the register so I can leave. All this is a matter or moments before
“So you taking goods then?”
I felt my body sigh as I realising he was a delivery man. Still I all but ran out the door muttering keep the change.
On the walk down to the shop I had noticed a strange car pulling up to the curb. I ignored It and quickened my pace. There was a house just a couple feet in front of the where the car stopped. The yard was overgrown, the windows boarded up, no light seemed to be in the house except from the space of the door which I could not say for certain was even hanging. A man appeared as I glanced up, three quarter jeans, striped t-shirt, all three sizes too big. Again his hand hidden under the shirt. He did not look homeless but not very far from it either. As I passed between the man and the parked car I was aware suddenly that on this heavily populated commercial street no one else was on the road. Again I quickened my pace, barely avoiding the rain filled holes in the pavement grabbing at my feet. Coming back to the office, already shaken by the shop incident I stood inside the gate and tried calling a friend. The same striped t-shirt guy appears again, smiles at me, hand still under his shirt and seemed to quicken his pace toward the gate of my office. Fear paralyzed me as it always does. He walked past and I ran inside.
To anyone else this may have been a normal walk to the shop, to me it feels like my life was threatened twice. I don’t know how to cope with fear. I am not familiar with it. I don’t know how to stave paranoia, or reclaim innocence once lost. My world has all of a sudden become the most dangerous place to be. I spend a lot of time planning escape routes should something happen and at the same time knowing the fear would prevent me from moving making the plans futile. Losing sleep at night, hating public transport, driving with windows up simple things like these are new to me. Still I hear the stories of lizard like men slipping through burglar proof and through keyholes. No where is safe.
How do you not fear the world?
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