Intrusion

There are all kinds of ways we suffer from intrusion. “To put or force in inappropriately or rudely, especially without invitation, fitness, or permission.” You can have your pleasant thoughts intruded upon by worries; you can have your personal space intruded on by someone getting too close (a personal pet peeve of mine); someone can intrude on your privacy; you can intrude with unsolicited advice; and someone can intrude on your property.

I have had all of the above happen to me at one time or another. I am pretty sure you have as well. Even if there was no intent, it was still uncomfortable. I don’t think I could ever go to Japan. I have heard too many things about that many people are packed onto that small an island. I would have a panic attack. I just cannot handle intrusions into my personal space. Put me in a elevator or other enclosed space packed with people and I will hyperventillate or pass out. It has been an issue during Markets at work because the Mart is packed with people and that means the elevators are. I decided a while back I would take the freight elevators after breaking into a cold sweat and almost loosing it back in October.

I hate intrusions on my time even worse. I am not a person prone to making plans. I am more a fly by the seat of your pants kind of gal. But if I do have in my head how a certain evening is going to go or how a certain circumstance is going to play out and, through no fault of my own, it gets all messed up, I can get pretty pissed.

I’ve had problems with my daughter regarding this on occasion. I would have a bad day at work and spend most of my time looking forward to getting home and relaxing and having a good meal or something. And then I would get a call from a teacher or a note from school or she would get into trouble in some way and I would have just another thing to have to deal with that I did not expect. As a parent, of course I am aware that this kind of things come with the territory, but that does not mean it is welcome when it happens.

Probably the worst example of this, however, was when I was having to deal with someone with a drinking problem – a confrontational person to boot. Invariably, on a night when what I needed most was a quiet evening, he would have a few too many and want to pick a fight. I am not one who fights unless extremely provoked. Especially when I need peace and quiet. I would let him get as mad as he wanted and would refuse to argue – just watch tv and let it roll right off. Unfortunately, that did not always work. He would get drunker and meaner until I could not handle it anymore. A good deal of the time I can proudly say I did not stoop to allowing myself to be provoked in such a manner, but I cannot say he did not get me on at least a few occasions. I would verbally evicerate his drunken self and then go back to my tv show, but by then I was so pissed that there was no joy or peace to be had out of the evening. Needless to say, we are divorced. Jerk.

I really hate it when worries intrude into pleasant thoughts. I am a worrier. I can start off thinking happy thoughts and then with one single concern, I can turn happy thoughts into worries. I like to be able to look at a problem from all angles and see all the possible ways something will play out. I want to avoid as much unpleasantness as possible. Unfortunately, that leads me to play out all kinds of worst case scenarios and pay more attention to them than the possible good outcomes in a situation. It is one of the reasons I have a few xanax or ativan on hand – so in case I worry myself into a full blown panic, I can take something to calm my nerves. I try not to use my back up very often and I can usually hang onto the pills I have, but I do like knowing they are there in case of emergencies.

Another thing I hate is to have people stick their nosy noses into my business – and then try and judge me. I stay out of your life unless invited in and I would thank you to do the same. It is always nice to hear someone tell you that if you need anything they are here for you, but any more than that is unwelcome. I have been through this a few times. The first time was the worst. It was made even worse by the fact that these people thought they were trying to do the right thing. They wanted to tell me how wrong I was and how I was taking another step closer to eternal damnation and insist that I live my life by rules that they had – without bothering to find out if I agreed with their rules and assessments. Needless to say, I did not. I have gotten past it now, but it took years. It also had some unforseeable consequences that touch me and my family to this day. I learned then that, if you want to help someone, judging and trying to make decisions for them is not the answer. You cannot force your belief system on someone else, even if you believe that you are saving their eternal soul.

Gossip and passing judgment is probably the worst form of intrusion into someone’s privacy. I have seen it and had it done to me. I am sure I have done it as well, although I hate to admit it. It is something I am very sensitive to. I grew up in a situation where the belief was that if everyone knew what was going on in your life they would be able to help you and you would be held accountable to a certain group for your actions, decisions and sins. I do believe there were good intentions there, but those pave the road to Hell for good reasons. The actual execution turned into being something that was more scandalous and available to be discussed in the most titilating tones. Taking pleasure out of someone else’s misfortune or bad decisions is truly dispicable. I mean, really, is your life so perfect that you have the ulimate knowledge and all the time to spend worrying about someone else’s problems instead of your own? Or does realizing someone else has it worse than you make you feel better about your own situation? If it does, then I would advise you to take a very hard look at yourself and your motivations. I guarantee that you are not near as well off as you think you are.

And then there are the physical intrusions. The ones that involve your person or your property. Your car is broken into, the dash and stereo are ripped out and you have to take the time off work to deal with the insurance companies and repair shops. Your rates go up and now you are paying more because some asshole broke out your window and took whatever they wanted. Your home is broken into and, what’s even worse than that, the things they took are mostly of sentimental value to you and no practical value to them. Meaning your great grandmother’s broach will most likely wind up in a dumpster somewhere instead of you being able to pass it down to one of your own kids.

There is the feeling of being vulnerable. That someone can just come in at will an take whatever of yours they want. That feeling that most animals have better morals than some people. They do not want to earn anything of their own because it is so much easier just to take the things you have worked hard to to have. Then there is not wanting to tell the people who so generously gave you some of those things as gifts – not wanting them to know that their gift was taken by some useless trash and is either being pawned for the value it has to being enjoyed by someone to whom you wouldn’t give a dollar on the street. If these people were hungry and needed something, it would be one thing, but more than likely they are bums who want nothing more to exist off the hard work of others and to take a handout or steal whatever they want without any regard for the person who works and contributes something meaningful to society. They drain us. They bring us down. Theives are the lowest of our society – maybe a step above murderers, child molesters and serial killers.

They are opportunists who make the rest of us warry of trusting others. I can tell you right now that I look at everyone who passes the house with an air of suspicion. Only one or two people broke in this week, but now everyone around is suspect and could be the ones who did this. I know they had to have come by and notice the house. They had to have paid enough attention that they knew when we were not home and how they could get in. I try to give everyone I see a fair shake. I smile and speak, regardless of age, race and gender. But I find that this week I have had a harder time with that as people pass the house. Because they could be the ones who took my Mema’s stuff and other things that were precious to me. I am not able to overlook that. Take the wii. Take the iPod. But the engraved anklet my brother gave me 20 years ago or the “Mom you’re the best” necklace Greta gave me one year?? Even the wreath pin Greta made for me out of painted puzzle pieces whe she was in kindergarden that could hardly be worn is sorely missed. They even stole a pillow case off the bed so they could load it up with our stuff and carry it out. Bastards.

I try to think of what was stolen as simply things representing something intangible and have only the significance I attribute to them. I try to make sure I remember they came in while we were gone and no one was hurt and there was very little damamge to the house. I try to think that maybe some of this will be recovered. I try to remember that it is just stuff and that stuff is not important. But I still want to take a baseball bat to their knee caps. I wish I could be one of those people who can bless those who steal from them and hope that what they have taken from me does someone good in some way, but I am just not that type of person – at least not yet. If it were someone in need, I would have gladly helped in whatever way I could. If a mother broke in and stole my diamond necklace to put food on the table, I would not feel like I do. But as it is, I am too terribly certain that my Wii that was a gift to my whole family is being pawned by low level dealers. Or worse, they are playing it while they toke.

So over the next few weeks I will come to peace with this. After all, this is not the first time this has happened. Six years ago I had all my jewelry stolen. I got over it. I replaced it and I moved on. I will do it again. I just hope Karma comes and bitch slaps these punks. And soon.

Originally written June 10, 2010

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