When ...it happens.

Have you ever wondered what you would do if you became the victim of a smash-and-grab, or a burglary, or a mugging...? Well I can tell you: Nothing. I did nothing. 
I didn't chase the perpetrator down the road with the intention of running him over and reclaiming my bag. Tempting, but I was stuck in traffic. I didn't fall to pieces and spend an hour crying on the side of the road. I just... went home like nothing happened.

I came to a traffic light on Friday evening, 20h30, at a traffic-congested, but dark intersection. In the corner of my eye a figure rushed to my car passenger window, shattered my passenger window, grabbed my bag from the car floor and ran off into the night. It happened in about four seconds. They say that time slows down when you fear for your life... I'm not so sure, but you do remember every terrible moment in detail. 

My whole body went numb with fear and adrenaline except for a weird, hot rush of pins and needles that pulsed into my hands and feet. And even though the perpetrator was on the run with me staring in horror at his back as he fled like a coward, I was afraid of him. I am afraid of him. There was nothing I could do. I simply put my foot on the accelerator, and got home as fast as I could. 

What bugs me is this feeling of guilt that I have. The inner argument that has been going on in my head ever since Friday, as that awful man looms outside the passenger window of my mind, his arm raise to shatter my internal safe haven...

I shouldn't have been out visiting my friends at night alone. 
But I left early, it wasn't that late? 
Was it? 
Oh no, I'm often out at night. How am I going to live?
I'll have to be a hermit. I'll have to quit half my commitments in Winter. The sun sets too early. 
I can't, I can't! I have to live!
No. I have to stay alive. 
I shouldn't have been driving that road. 
But I drive that road every day, often after dark.
It's a dark road you idiot.
But I thought it was the safest at the time. I even thought about it before I left. It has the least traffic lights and stops, and it's the fastest way home. Only 2 traffic lights, in fact, and a lovely highway. 
There are police patrolling that road constantly.
It's a dodgy road and you know it. 
I disagree. The other routes have just as many real threats, and more can go wrong on the other roads. Drunkards use the other route on Friday nights, and it's riddled with dodgy traffic lights. 
Suit yourself. Idiot. 
I should have had my phone in my pocket, not my bag.
I should have been locking my bag in my boot.
Really? I should spend an additional 30 seconds outside my car, in an open parking lot, putting my bag in my boot? 
Well it should have been behind my seat at least, not on the passenger floor.
I didn't think anyone would be able (or brave enough) to reach the passenger floor in such a rush. 
Exactly, I didn't think. I was arrogant enough to believe that I'm immune to these things. 
Oh stop it!
I should have kept a peppergun in my car, just in case. 
But then what? I gas someone else and myself in an enclosed vehicle? 
That's a good point. And he was gone in 4 seconds, like we said. That would mean I'd gas myself alone. 
Still. A peppergun might have made me feel better. 
Or worse. 
I should have..
I should have..
I should have...

My mind is racing with all these thoughts of self-blame and guilt and I suddenly just feel really ticked off. Wait a friggin minute here...! I didn't do anything wrong! I am a careful and vigilant person. If anything, I'm a bit too nice and naive, but I'm not an idiot. I did not 'deserve' this out of my own carelessness. It happened. And please forgive my use of this phrase but "Shit happens". 

And it did happen. So what now? It was such a petty crime, so not-a-big-deal. I am so grateful to be safe and un-harmed, unlike so may others. And yet... a part of me is stuck there, on that corner. I'm behind a truck and in front of a string of other cars. A man is crashing a sharp object into my car window and my mind is screaming out..

Is this it? 
Is he going to hijack me? 
What does he want?
Will he leave me here?
Will he force me to go with him?
Will he let me live?
Is this the end...???

I am still afraid, looking over my shoulder. My sense of freedom, humour and enjoyment of life is shivering in the corner of my mind, asking if it's safe to come out yet. In time, it will be ok. But for now, I have to clutch onto one thing to help me feel in control, and that is the fact that it was out of my control. I am not to blame. For that reason, I refuse to discuss the matter with anyone any further. I refuse to have people carelessly speculating on what I should have done, what I could have done, what I might have done, if I'd done it different, what I could have decided, should I decide I should have done it different....

As if I am somehow to blame.

No. No more. It happened. And that's it.