12/8/01

I have been in the process of moving (blech) and tonight we made more progress packing and transporting the amazing amount of crap I have acquired in my adult life. It has been a bitter sweet experience because the person I moved into the place with is not the person I am leaving with. On the other hand, the place was too small, too expensive, and the landlord sucked. I plan on writing why one should *never* rent from Philadelphia Management at another point. So it was a melancholy and, at times frustrating night.

The second trip to my apartment, there were some well dressed men standing on my porch. The apartment building is locked and contains a total of 8 apartments, and I am positive I have met, at least in passing all of the residents. They were looking for someone I was fairly sure didn't live there, but as there are buzzers and intercom to each apartment, I have always had a policy of not letting people in. Seems like common sense to me.

I could tell that at least one of the men was drunk and the other had been drinking and was not looking forward to the confrontation I felt was about to occur. I walked up to the door with Darxus and pulled out my keys. The intoxicated man said something along the lines of 'oh she will let us in' I replied that I could not as I had never seen him before, and he would have to wait for his friend to come let him in. He replied with assorted obscenities and I said "Fine" and kept on walking into *my* apartment. They then attempted to shove the door open as I closed it. Darxus reflexively slammed the door shut, and while it was effective, my hand was between his and the door. OUCH. The pain went away remarkably quickly, no doubt in response to the raging endorphins. We proceeded into my place and just blanked for a few minutes. Darxus suggested we sit and wait a few, but I resented it almost immediately, and he did too. So we decided to go back out with his mace ready and my cell ready to dial 911, We came out and they were gone, but no relief washed over me, no fear subsided. These assholes felt they could bully there way into my home by force, and without Darxus, they would have succeeded. I can only guess what would have happened next, a beating if I was lucky.

All this has resurfaced my consideration to carry a firearm, for my protection and my children's. My children were not there, but what if they had been. Would my motherly instincts turned to protect them or whipped me into a sufficient rage to fight off the attackers? It has been years since I have ever felt so unsafe, so at the mercy at the kindness of others. This is unacceptable.

Now, many would argue that owning a gun would place my babies at greater risk, but if these deviants had gotten ahold of one of them, I would have shot to disable first and to kill if necessary. Any gun I owned would be safely stored. I genuinely do not fear home invasion, I fear that I will not be able to go to the grocery store after dark. Next response: move back home where it is safer: I was abused more intensely and more afraid for my family there than I have *ever* been here. Many of the people who have known me growing up are shocked the intensity of the reaction, but I am unwilling to be the victim anymore, whether it be at the hands of of a crazed, drunk, or drugged stranger, or at the hands of a mentally ill loved one. I will not stand for abuse any more. I am going to learn defensive practices to protect me and my family. Carrying a gun legally and sanely is only one component of this strategy, self defense classes and, my biggest weakness, saying "no more, I will not let you hurt me no matter how much I love you" is going to be the hardest part. I am getting there. I am a woman and a mother and someone's daughter, sister, aunt, and cousin, I can not afford to stand meekly by and wait for someone to save me from the bad people in this world.

For another viewpoint see Darxus' write up.