Lalu Bean

This weekend, after a nice and relaxing night away camping, we came home to find that our house had been broken into. I can't recall the exact moments of this discovery, because I utterly and completely lost my mind and things have a been a very surreal blur of reality ever since.

We thought that our house was safe and secure, but we first noticed that the screens to our windows in the front had been slit. Upon further investigation, a total of eight windows on our main floor were all slit in an attempt to find an unlocked window. When this failed, because we had all of our windows locked, the burglar broke open the latch on a window and entered our home, leaving a broken vase that was on the windowsill and handprints on the wall and ceiling behind them.

This is the type of thing that I would have sworn would never happen to us. I suppose these things always feel this way. We have lived in our house for five years, in a safe neighborhood, we know all of our neighbors. I tend to have OCD about things like locked doors and windows and am always, always paranoid about break-ins and house fires and tornadoes. Up until now, I have never had a reason to be so worried about these things, I just was. If these past 24 hours are any indication of how I will be from now on, I feel sorry for my husband, because this break-in has done nothing but enable my OCD behavior. I actually made Brian sit in the bathroom with me while I showered. In my defense, this was right after the cops had taken fingerprints of the intruder off of our kitchen ceiling. Making him accompany me up and down for every load of laundry I can not begin to defend, however.

I am so eternally grateful that we were not home when these thieves entered our house, especially including Guinness. I am so grateful that we were not hurt and that we did not have to experience waking up to find an intruder in our home. So, so grateful. But I am still so completely tore up inside and can't find anything to help me heal. Thankfully, this has taught us what security needed improving in our home, which will hopefully now deter any future break-ins, but I still can't shake the feelings of someone being in my home. When I lay in my bed, I just look at my nightstand that they rifled through. Or wearing my necklace that a burglar touched and decided they didn't want. How am I suppose to ever feel safe again? I feel hurt, and betrayed, and violated, and scared. And then I feel angry, and bitter, and appalled. Why did someone think that they could do this to us? Why does anyone, anywhere have the right to take away my security in my own home? To touch my things that mean something to me. No one has that right. 

I love my house. And I really hate the fact that someone has tried to take that away from me.

I love my house. And so I will find a way to get over this.

In the meantime, I can be grateful that I had a nice and peaceful nights sleep under the stars on the beautiful lake with my friends... the last peaceful night of sleep that I will have for a while.

chelsea