Today I found out that my grade ten teacher was murdered by one of her students. Tragic. I started to panic when I heard about it. I thought I would be next. I have no idea why. This news came on the heels of a friend of mine from university who died in a helicopter crash as the pilot leaving behind two beautiful daughters.
I then went to catch the bus home from work and started to be really scared about that guy I last wrote about that sat beside me on the bus drunk and threatening another guy who accidentally bumped into him. I got scared he might be on the bus again, that he might pull a knife and stab someone; stab me.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to run away and go back and hide in my office. I thought to myself that these things come in threes and that someone I knew would die or that it might be me.
I forced myself on the bus. Forced myself to sit and just let the music I was listening to calm me down. I watched the door intently every time someone got on. I made sure I was ready to get up and get off if that guy came on the bus again.
I was letting all kinds of scenarios swirl through my head. What would I do if the guy got on the bus; what would I do if he tried to attack someone or me; what I would do if the bus crashed. Crazy! I wanted nothing more than to just get home safely and into a cocoon. Then, when I was nearly home, I thought that I can’t let these thoughts overtake me. I stopped and pulled myself together mentally.
Today, I’m not going to let this paper bag win. I’m tired, yes. Hell, I’m crazy enough to go to war with the bag. Go all commando on it (military style not panty-less). I read something tonight that made me turn my thoughts around: “You don’t have to be brilliant at everything. You just have to have the courage to put yourself in the line of fire.”
Ok. So I have to be courageous enough to just let the feelings wash over me. Be courageous enough to take it. I have to be courageous enough to fight this paper bag and break out of it. I just have to do it.
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