Lights, Camera, Action

[stilldancing]

I never thought I'd be posting in one of these forums. I grew up pretty adjusted aside from the typical dings and dents of childhood. I went to college a few years, dropped out when I got married, and somewhere along the way, I lost myself.

In March of '08, I went back to work at my neighborhood dollar store. I'd worked there the summer before, and money was a little short, and they wanted me back so it seemed like the thing to do. This was a store where people locked each other in the bathroom as a prank, and treated each other like family. It was a great place to be.

March 12 was just weird all around. At my main job at a call center, I was held over for an hour on a difficult and stubborn caller. That call made me late for getting to the store, and kept me from being on a register that night. I'll never know if that was a life or death call...

That night, everything was going great. I teased my manager about how we should be closed on St. Patricks Day since it's a religious day in Ireland. He teased me about wanting a night off so I could drink green beer. That remark has come back to haunt me a few times.

The water line was broken so there would be no mopping, a chore that would fall to me, and I detested it. So all I had to do was straighten the shelves and sweep. As I was making my way down the aisles, I saw him and and our assistant manager having a sword fight of sorts with the artificial flowers that they were changing out.

Then I heard it. A bunch of yelling and cussing. I ran two rows over to see my manager running to the front, and my assistant manger looking terrified.

"Are we being robbed?" I asked.

We heard a shot, and dove behind a display of paper towels, but not before I saw two men with a gun. One had his gun pointed right at me. I doubt he saw me, but I could feel the evil that radiated from him. We heard a few more shots, and ran to the back office, joined by the other cashier. Something was wrong. Where was he?

The other cashier was dialing 911, and after a minute, the assistant manager ran out to the store. I heard her screaming his name. I ran after her. He had been shot. Ten minutes later a paramedic confirmed that he died. I tried to save him, but it's always in the back of my mind that I didn't do enough. I should have done more. I should have known how to save his life.

That night I got to experience my first ride in the back of a cop car. We were at the station until midnight telling the cops everything that happened. I got home, and went straight to bed. But I didn't sleep. I think I stopped shivering around four in the morning.

As it turns out, we were closed on St. Patrick's Day - for his funeral.

 

[Overcast]

I understand the terror of being robbed. I was robbed myself and knew I was helpless to do anything more. A customer had a non life threatening injury. I hope you have a good trauma therapist to help you through. If money is tight as a victim your state might have compensation and help for the cost. Hang in there.

 

[franciemarnie]

How should you have known how to save his life? You did fantastic. You did all you knew how to do. Not being God, our life extending abilities are severely limited.

Please see a trauma therapist. You deserve it!

 

[stilldancing]

Thanks for the wonderful advice. I've tried therapy but I haven't found a therapist that seems willing to help me. There is a second part of my story that I will post tomorrow. I've just been a mess today so I had to step back from it for a little bit.

 

[franciemarnie]

It's good to take time outs.

I thought later how it may have sounded like I was dismissing your very real feelings of feeling you should have been able to to save his life. I didn't mean to do that. I felt I should have been able to save someone's life too long ago and far away. It haunted me for years. I believed it and I never said it to anyone for decades. It was untrue though. I could not have done anything.

We all do the very best we can, and so did you. I just wanted to say you could not have magically had life saving knowledge that you were never given. Not did the others with you.

Keep looking for someone. To feel you could have saved a life but couldn't is a terrible terrible burden to carry - and because it isn't based in fact, some T might be able to pull you clear of that potentially life crushing weight and guilt.

 

[stilldancing]

Oh no franciemarnie. I didn't feel dismissed at all. Thank you for your comments, and support. It's so helpful to come here, and feel I'm not alone.

 

[stilldancing]

Here's the thing about being shoved into the public eye for something negative - it sucks.

Tonight, I was at a political meeting, and we were discussing the neighborhood we all live in, and someone mentions the store...

"Wasn't that the one where the manager was killed?" the guy in charge asked.

My husband speaks up that I was there, intended as a warning.

Suddenly I have the interest of everyone in the room.

What the hell do they expect me to say? I just told them it sucked.

"That was probably bad to that you had to stay there for questioning?"

False. It was bad that I had to stay there for the whole 'shooting a friend dead' thing, but I don't say that. Instead I mention that I had to go down to the police station, and learned firsthand why a revamp of that building was on a ballot in recent years.

Luckily that changed the topic.

I don't know if I'm ever going to be truly free of what happened that night. It made the news, and everyone still remembers it. Even in an area of town that is infamous for it's gang activity. The clips are still on the news web sites. These clips showed my family and friends that I was not the one who was shot, thanks to a few closeups of me, (terrified, and nearly out of my mind) and in the days afterward, a few were insensitive enough to say "I saw you on the news (laugh, guffaw, chuckle, including one from my cousin who in all honesty thought she was being so supportive by calling me. Her intentions were good, but her delivery needed work.)

 

[Overcast]

Freedom does come but it comes slow. It is hard enough going through the trauma and then to relive it by the constant reminders makes it tougher. What got me through was writing in my journal for 30 minutes a day. If I was triggered I would ask what triggered the flashback etc. In time your therapist and you can develop a plan to deal with the triggers. It sounds like your husband is supportive, in public gatherings maybe he can come up with a way to divert the topic elsewhere if the subject comes up. Remember you don't have to share your story with anyone you do not desire to share it with. Hang in there.

 

[stilldancing]

In the days after, I learned to despise the media. When we were allowed to walk out of the store that night, there they were, amid a swirl of police sirens and the crowd of neighborhood onlookers. One of the officers was kind enough to allow me use of his cell phone so I could get to my husband before the neighbors could.

Then two nights later, we held a vigil. But more then that, it was a stand to show the monsters (who had not been caught at that point) that we as a neighborhood would not be afraid. There was the media again in all their glaring cameras and flashing bulbs.

It was through a newspaper that I found out his life had been taken over - 180 dollars - split three ways. Nothing you could buy for 60.00 never would/could be worth a human life.

Even at his funeral, there were cameras stationed outside the funeral home to catch people coming out.

I always had dreams of being in the spotlight, but never like this.

 

[stilldancing]

I need to move. What does that have to do with anything? The stage where everything took place is not even a full two blocks from me. I walk down a street and I'm there. I can't drive to my parents house, or the grocery store, or really anywhere else for that matter without passing it. Maybe there's a secret to not thinking about it when I pass it, but if it is, I haven't found it.

Then tonight, I made a snarky comment on a friends fb post. To be fair, I thought it was justified. You just don't attack kids with autism, or their parents for getting them vaccinated, despite your personal feelings on the issue. (For the record, I'm pro-vaccine to the point I roar - but that would fill another post entirely.) And someone commented back a few comments later that hate, and mean comments don't do anything to educate the person, or change their behavior.

This whole week my son has been telling me to be happy when I get stern (I don't yell, but he doesn't get away with whatever he wants.)

Which leads me to the question - have I really become so mean and vicious? I used to be such a nice person, but I have developed a talent for snark. You don't get that without practice.

Tonight my husband saw me on this web site, and asked if I had noticed improvement. How do you measure that? I'm here because people here GET IT! People here understand what it's like to have an event change you so irrevocably that parts of you shut down, and certain things dont bring a twinge of emotion, but a tidal wave.

I thought I was okay until the anniversary started to creep closer, and I realized six years later, I'm not as big a basket case, but I have changed more then I thought, and there's a lot more work ahead of me then I've realized.

 

[stilldancing]

While I was sitting in the cold sterile holding area of the local police station, waiting to talk to the investigators, my brain was going full tilt. I made a mental list of people I would really miss if I never spoke to again. There were only a few on the list, and in the time since then, I've made contact with all of them whether in person, or via social media. I also decided that I really wanted to be a mother. No more was I on the fence about that. And I realized that my life was horrifically far from where I wanted to be.

At work, I had settled for comfortable security. I hated every minute of working, but I loved the regular paychecks after a few years of bouncing from one crappola job to the next.

My true passion has always been film, and writing. Hence the title of my blog. Like a director, I had to actively take control of my life, change the sets, amp up the action, and start shining a light on what made me happy rather then shoving it into a corner for the 'someday when I'm retired' files.

I still don't know to this day what I'd do without my ability to write. Writing is truly a healing art.

The other thing I learned was how powerful God is. The night everything happened, I prayed harder then I had ever prayed before, first that everyone would be okay, and when that didn't happen, my prayers turned to the families who would be impacted, that the evil that had caused this would be brought to justice.

The next day, some men from my church stopped by the house - to see me. To adminster to me. They helped my husband give me a priesthood blessing (we're LDS), and I know I've been healed by that power. Not completely, which is why I'm here, but some of my coworkers who weren't even there that night have been far more affected then I have .

 

[stilldancing]

I wasn't going to post tonight, but the news made me cry. It makes me wonder if I really do need therapy to get past this.

The store chain was on the news, because 4 of the stores in the valley (not my location suprisingly), and been hit up by two men (ding), near closing time (ding,ding), and aren't afraid to resort to violent measures (thank god no ones been killed yet).

It's weird that I can watch the tapes of my store, and be okay, but watching that footage tonight of the stores being robbed was like pouring salt in the wound.

I thought I was healing. Now I'm not half the mess I was I don't think at even the year mark, but I wonder if I shouldn't be able to see those stories and not get upset.

I tried therapy after the incident - a couple of times actually. One of my friends therapists that he recommended to me couldn't help me because she didn't take my insurance. Another therapist I was referred to by the stores 'aftercare' plan simply referred me to another mental health site that has a really bad reputation, and we come down to the therapist I tried on my private insurance plan. She said she could help me, but it had been over a few months by that time, and she made me feel like I was trying to milk it somehow for attention.

Ha, I act, I have a dancing background, I have a writing background, if I need attention, I have far better ways of getting it.

I'm just so tired of feeling broken or damaged. I want to be who I was before all this mess. The jury's still out on whether or not it made me a better person.