Perseverance

I never thought I would be the type of person to be afraid to watch the news, but I am now. At least for the time being. And I am not talking about the normal daily news, but the videos and clips they keep replaying over and over again. I am afraid as to what they might show or what I might hear. What trigger will set me off next into a flurry of anxiety and possible tears. I haven’t watched TV or the News in 4 days. Which if you know me, you know that’s unheard of. But I just can’t right now. I can’t watch anymore videos from that night of people running. Screaming. The sound of such panic. That same panic that I felt running through my whole body. I can’t hear anymore of the rapid gunfire. It's already ringing in my ears and head everyday. I just can’t. I'm hoping as the days go on, they will stop showing it, so people can start watching the news again. I guess only time will tell.

On another note. The parking lot has been cleared and we can go pick up my vehicle. We plan on doing that Saturday morning after gymnastics. I want to go at a time that I can process it all. A time where I don’t feel rushed and that if I get emotional, I don’t have to go back to work or be somewhere. I can just be and process those emotions and get through it with the support of my Husband.

A certain comment was left on one of my friend’s Facebook threads. She had shared my blog post titled “Juggling.” The woman that left the comment is named Jill. Her words affected me so deeply and I needed to read those words, so I wanted to share it here not only to share it with all of you, but so that I can re-read it back for my own comfort:

“I can’t even imagine the feelings that each and every survivor will go through in the coming days, weeks and months. Fear. Anger. Sadness. Depression. Relief. Guilt. ...and I’m sure the list goes on.

I can totally empathize with her feelings about her car “Betty White,” and how it sat there while terror was unfolding all around it. Her feelings are real and raw. I wish I could hug everyone that was there that night just to show emotional support.

As an outsider, I think of “Betty White” as her chariot. It stood there valiantly and relentlessly to take her home. Whenever it’s time... it will do just that. Maybe it will become a beacon of survival, so to speak... an icon of perseverance.”

That last paragraph just rips at me like no other. Because it’s true. And now I have a new perspective about my beloved “Betty White.” We will see what condition my car is in. I have had numerous friends and even strangers offer for them to retrieve it for me. My loving Husband would love to shield me from the possible pain that it might cause for me to go and get it, but I need to. I think it will help with some closure issues. I cannot avoid that lot or certain parts of this city and as hard as it might be, I need to go down there. I need to walk through that lot. I need to see it. I need to get in it. I need to put the key in and feel it start up underneath me and I need to drive it away from that lot that changed my life forever.