How to start breathing again?

for as long as i can remember i've used writing as an outlet for my feelings... fight with my parents.. i wrote... fight with boyfriends... i wrote... fight with friends... i wrote... fell in love i wrote... once i got married i let my writing go a bit... maybe i just didn't have anything to vent about..but since i got pregnant and had andrea i've started writing again.. its more me just trying to get my thoughts out and document andrea's beautiful little life. Well today i'm writing to vent... today i'm writing to possibly start breathing again...today i'm writing to write.. for me...

Saturday May 8 the day before my first mothers day between 2:45 and 5pm our home was broken into and buglarized.

Gustavo met me at the shops at pembroke to pick up andrea bc i was getting my hair done for mothers day... he wanted to stay with me and i told him that it was way to hot ... that he should just take andrea and go home ... he stayed... (miracle in disguise. thank god) Had he gone home when i told him to he would've walked in with our daughter to these strangers in our home.

He ended up staying and i dropped andrea off with him so i could make one more stop before the day was over..i got 1 block down the street when he called me to tell me what had happened. I rushed home... the cops were there within 10 minutes...from that point we filed the report and forensics showed up within 30 minutes.. they were able to get fingerprints from our closet but im willing to bet they're our own.. they advised we should be contacted within a week and a half to go down to get fingerprinted for comparison. They didn't take too much if thats even an honest statement to make and the cop assured us the culprits would be back... this was a warning... this was someone who lived in our complex... someone who has been watching us... who knows when we're home and when we're not... who knows our schedule... i couldn't help but stand outside our home and just stare off into the distance wondering if these lowly people were watching everything unfold.. watching the cops get there... watching me get in my car with my daughter and a packed bag and leave for my parents house. watch the very breath inside of me be taken.

At first i wasn't angry i was just in shock... now i've gone through a few other choice feelings.

i feel violated.... these strangers were in my home... went through my drawers... helped themselves to my belongings... they violated the trust that i had in the solace of being in our home... where i lay my head and my daughter laughs... they violated the home gustavo and i were married in... the home we made a baby in... and the home andrea was born in... we painted and decorated her room put every piece of furniture together ourselves... and built memories and a life... that was taken in one instant.

i feel hurt... hurt because we are good people and i dont feel bad saying it...WE ARE GOOD PEOPLE... stand up people... that go out of our way to help others... that love each other and our family ... that dont bother others... but instead respect those around us. We work hard every day for everything we've earned... we live a simple life full of love and admiration for each other...we know what it is to struggle and have absolutely nothing...we know what it is to start from scratch and sacrifice to make our life work. and now we know what it is not to be able to breathe....

i feel angry... angry because we've been taken advantage of... angry because they didn't just take posessions they took memories... this will forever be the memory of my first mothers day, of this apartment... of this day in my life... after all life is made up of moments and they took that moment for their own selfish cowardly reasons and i'll never be able to get that back. they have now backed us into a corner because i cannot step foot back into that apartment without wondering if today will be the day they decide to return. i cant put my daughter to bed in her room without staying up all night to keep her safe...i feel backed into a corner because we were absolutely not prepared to move out of this apartment overnight and now this is the reality we're faced with.

i feel scared...scared because everything could have been taken from me in one quick flash... had gustavo gone back home with the baby while these idiots were there... scared that life has come to this... that we live in a drowning economy full of people who feel they need to do these things to survive.. scared that my daughter is going to have to grow up in this society.. scared that there isn't a damn thing i can do to change this situation or turn back time... or catch them...and scared that i'm always going to feel this way... this tightness in my chest and sick feeling in my stomach...scared that i'll never be able to give anybody the benefit of the doubt ever again because bad things happen and there are to many people out there with bad intentions.

I know that i need to go back to church .... i know that i will find peace in God... but the sad thing is that i dont want that... i dont want to feel better.. i want to hate these scumbags with all i've got i want them to feel pain and i want them to pay for what they did. even for the possibility of what the could've taken from me in addition to what was already stolen. but the worst part of all of this is that i know they wont be caught and even if they were the punishment they would receive pales in comparison to what i feel they deserve.