Last night. Oh my. There was someone shooting a gun at a car (with people inside) in the street. It was in front of the house next to ours (which is empty). I'm still not really sure what happened. All I know is that I was truly terrified. The police didn't leave our street until after 11:30pm.
I don't know if they caught any one. I don't know anything. Except that things like this shouldn't happen. I wouldn't be so scared if it were just me here. But I have babies. I have babies and a husband and I don't know what I would do if anything happened to them.
My head knows that my husband is right - we're unlikely to be hurt in our house. That it's more likely we'll get hurt in a car accident. I know that. But my heart, my nerves - they don't agree. I understand now what true panic attacks are. I had to fight down rising, debilitating panic many times over the course of the night.
I know this fear, this terror, will pass. Some day I will feel safe again. I hope. But at the moment, I'm afraid to leave my house. But.. I'm also afraid to be in my house. Much of this is my penchant for worry and my extremely overactive imagination. But for now, I will be more aware. And I will hold my children tightly as frequently as they let me.