The word snaps at you like an angry dog. Violated. It is not one of life's better moments. And many have felt it before.
Violation can occur in many different ways. From the very violent and lethal, to a more subtle form that occurs routinely - when your "space" is violated. So lumping all of them into one catch-all is not conducive to the feeling you get when you are - Violated.
The form I was recently privy to was of the medium verity. Not of someone getting in my face, nor of someone physically attacking me (for women that includes rape). No, my form was the one that the FBI has mounds of statistics on that numb us to read - until you are part of those statistics.
We were robbed. The sad things is that no one broke in. And indeed, our house was not ransacked. It was a carefully planned, cold hearted activity and it got us. Our crime? Offering to help a friend. A friend unfortunately that is a junkie. Although we knew she had abused drugs in the past, we thought she had cleaned up her act. Alas, no, her "therapy" had taken a wrong turn at a rehab house that was literally being run by the inmates. As she said "junkies are not stupid". She learned a lot from that place - so much so that she graduated from oxycontin to horse. And with the price going out of sight, she had to figure out a way to get some big money fast. And our hospitality was just the trick.
She stole some money. Some trinkets of jewelry. Each in and of itself not significant. But you still feel violated. No longer can you toss change on a bureau. No longer can you even leave keys on a table, an Ipod on a charger, a ring on a night stand. You have to lock everything away.
How we caught her was pure luck. A ring dropped on the floor that did not belong there. Had she not dropped that ring, a really minor piece of what she stole, she may still be stealing from us. But that ring lead us to look for what was missing. And we are still looking. How many people know exactly where everything is in their house, and remember the last time they saw it? It is rough to say the least. We have just begun to total up what is lost - permanently lost. For in this time of skyrocketing gold prices, jewelry is no longer hocked at a pawn shop, it is sold and melted at the cash4gold fences. (I am sure they do some legitimate business, but most of it is just stolen and they know it - else why would they melt it almost immediately?).
The metal content of the jewelry is insignificant. The pieces irreplaceable. An engagement ring, a mother's heirloom ring passed down from generation to generation. A grandfather's watch passed on to his oldest grandson - having had no sons himself. The metal content of these things are insignificant. Even the jewels in them are trinkets. The sentimental value hurts the most. A piece of our lives are gone forever. A piece of our heritage is lost to a junkie's habit. A part of our trusting soul is darkened.
As she sat on the sofa freely answering the police questions, I tried to fathom, how low someone could sink to be so cold hearted about what she had done. She was not high then, she had come down as she said. But she had planned on taking us for everything we had over time (if not for that small ring on the floor). Along with her "friends". Friends? Not hardly. Just fellow junkies that will abandon her as quickly as the smelter melted the jewelry.
We lost a lot of things this week. Some are irreplaceable. And some were not material. Violation does that to you