They Light A Way That Only Leads To Shallow Graves

An Open Confession

I don’t know quite how to tackle this without just typing, and making it to the end.

A few days ago, I was visiting with friends at a local bar, and after closing time, we were allowed to hang around inside the bar to chat awhile longer before having to leave. We spent the time swapping stories. Mostly, theories on the credibility on the existence of ghosts, aliens etc. Somewhere in between however, some of us shared stories of personal unfortunate events in our pasts. Somehow, the subject of my belief in aliens and paranormal phenomena brought about a slight feeling of paranoia. Though I’ve never feared the paranormal, the discussion randomly brought up the idea to get a little serious, and it was then that I brought up the time that I was robbed while living in Victoria. A close friend also had a similar story, and even though I had heard it before, a part of me felt a little more connected and safe around my friends. However, since discussing the event again, I find myself feeling a little uneasy these days after the sun has set.

For those that don’t know, a few years ago, while living in Victoria, TX where I tried and dropped out of college, I was robbed outside of a bank one night while making the night deposit for my job. The man was much taller than me, had a baseball cap lowered just above his eyes and a bandana covering the rest of his face. The rest of those details are a blur now since it’s been a few years and the event happened so quickly. I was getting out of my car and just about to dump the deposit, when I heard footsteps running toward me from behind. I looked up, saw a wielded knife and heard “gimme the fucking money!” before I backed up against my car and tossed the deposit bag to this man. He then proceeded to run passed me, across the street and out of view behind the hotel on the other side. Quite shaken, I tried to figure out what to do first with a scrambled mind. My coworker in the next lane over made sure I was ok before I told her to go home. I remembered that I had a show to play that night and that one of my bandmates lived nearby. So I called my boss, got in my car and drove down the street to my bandmate’s house so that I could have someone with me to calm my nerves. All the while, my boss is walking me through what I needed to be doing. Go back to the bank, call the police, wait for him there. I followed his instructions and met him back at the bank along with the cops. I walked everyone through the story for about an hour before we were finally dismissed and we made our way to the show to get our minds off the situation.

So that’s what happened. I’ve actually been able to shrug it off for the most part, and occasionally I retell the story. But something about this other night has struck a different chord this time. It could simply be that I’ve been staying up too late the past few nights and maybe just becoming delirious in the process. Lately however, I find myself getting random bouts of anxiety and paranoia at night. I’ve been trying to decipher exactly what’s causing it, and thinking on it, the robbery could very well be playing a slight role.

The thing is, as much as I maintain my cocky attitude and strong ability to keep my emotions in check, the time after the robbery was a very difficult time for me.

You go through life thinking “nothing like that could ever happen to me”. But, we all know our chances are equal. The robbery, itself, caught me off-guard and not only shook my foundation, but opened up a whole other can of worms in the process.

A few days after the event, I was approached by a detective who was going to take my case and help me. Or so I thought. Long story short, after a few interviews, the detective turned everything around and pointed the finger of blame at myself and the friend I had picked up. Saying that I had concocted this “false robbery” with my bandmate in an attempt to make off with a few extra dollars.

I was shocked.

Here I thought I was going to get help, and the people I was counting on were not on my side. This detective literally told me, “if you just go ahead and tell me… Then this can be handled a little lighter on you and your friend”. This guy was legitimately ready to charge me with the crime. I barely stood my ground and left feeling completely hopeless.

I called my boss. I was off for the day, but I had to let him know what had just happened. Since the passing of my father, this man had become and very admirable and strong father-figure in my life. I emotionally invested a lot in him, and though we were very close friends and coworkers, he occasionally treated me like a son. Giving advice and sharing his blunt wisdom, I looked to him for any help.

During that phone call, he proceeded to encourage me to stay strong, assured that it’d all be fine and if it helped, told me to call the detective and order a polygraph test. Something that would surely prove my innocence.

Fast forward again.

Corporate managers came to our store to go through the story again. I was never convicted of any charges, but I was also never fully believed by the managers either. I’m simply one of those people who’ve always had issues with talking to high-authority people. Principals, cops, district managers. I get nervous talking to such people because they scrutinize every word you say and don’t say.

Overall, it was this entire event that finally led me to say “enough”. I had to leave this town. It had betrayed me, and so had the people inside of it. The case was dropped, but it still hung over my head. My boss, the one I always counted on to have my back never leaned to either side. Even the person I loved couldn’t give me the benefit of the doubt. I was alone in these thoughts for months after the horrible twist of events.

Now we go back to present day.

Since discussing it the other day again, it’s sparked a tiny fuse in the back of my head that’s had me on edge the passed few nights. When I go out at night, or come back home by myself, I sometimes become overwhelmed at the thought of being followed or creeped up on by someone out of the shadows. It’s a terrible feeling: not only being afraid of the dark, but what lies inside of it. I sleep with my bedroom door open, but my imagination is always running rampant and occasionally having me imagine someone creeping into the doorway. I’d close the door, but then what if it opened? Sitting over at the lake house facing the glass doors. What if someone just walked up to the light from out of the darkness outside and just stood there on the porch staring? Sure I could face away from the windows, but then what if someone’s just watching me over my shoulder? Sometimes these thoughts get a little out of hand and it becomes crippling. I don’t want to wait until the sun comes up to go to sleep, but I don’t want to turn my back on whatever the darkness is hiding in its shadows.

The saddest part though is just the thought of being alone. Not having someone to believe me. Comfort me. Assure me that everything’s just fine. My sense of safety and protection has been compromised.

This has all only been slightly eating at me lately, though. For the most part I’m perfectly fine and completely happy with my life. It’s just sometimes, being alone can get my heart racing and send my anxiety level up a bit.

It’s just a bummer, and I feel weak for the first time in a very very long time. Also disappointed that something like this is getting to me this much. I feel like a part of my mind is betraying me and my sense of self-security isn’t so solid these days.

I can only really hope that it just goes away in due time. I can handle it just fine right now, but to be “untouchable” feels impossible to me. Everyone has something that has the capability of shaking them to their very core. Even if they don’t know it just yet…

Keep it together. I’m doing my best. Stick together. We’ll conquer this.

Are you experiencing any of this kinda stuff?

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