Moving on

It's weird to be freaked out about your own neighborhood. I'm definitely still a bit skittish walking around in the dark near my apartment, which is a problem because it is legitimately dark around 4:50pm. I've been able to walk from my apartment to other places past the scene of the crime a couple of times, but I haven't been able to fully retrace my steps in the dark. Obviously this is the type of thing that takes time... it's all much better than Wednesday night when I walked back from picking up my mail (at 7:05 pm) and needed to drink about a bottle and a half of wine to calm down.

In general I don't think I'm naturally very good at this type of "recovery." The only comparable incident in my past is when I got in a big wreck while racing go-karts. I was a really good driver at that point (especially on that day); arguably I was better at that than anything else I've ever done or tried in life. Anyways, I got in a big wreck and my confidence pretty much never returned. I was able to get out and compete, and even won a few races after the accident, but I wasn't a tenth of the driver I was before the wreck.

Walking around my neighborhood brings back a lot of the same memories I had when I started racing again. I know that there isn't anyone waiting to jack me, much like I knew that I could take certain corners flat out or out-brake certain drivers. But before the wreck/mugging there was no counter knowledge; how could I be afraid of consequences if I didn't know what they were? Now I know the consequences, and even though the probability of them occurring are as minuscule as before, they loom much larger in my head.

So what do I do? In the short term, I give a spare set of keys to my friends and I drive to and from work (I also am sans bus pass, so this isn't as reactionary as it sounds) and I cab home on weekends rather than walking. Nothing life changing. I'll be curious how I react once I start back to the gym next week... I was so comfortable before that I would walk home from the gym with my iPod playing. Obviously that won't be the case any more.

Lastly, thanks to everyone who has sent me a note of encouragement. I'm obviously blessed to have lasted 30 years with no real exposure to street crime (I have no idea how 100% of soldiers don't come back from combat with PTSD), but I'm more blessed to have you all as friends. Holla.