Where to start. I’ve felt compelled to write to you ever since you paid me a visit last week. Obviously you weren’t intentionally visiting ME – but my dwelling place. What with it being where I live, it’s part of me… and when you left your muddy footprints throughout my house, you left them on my life too, and I think that is what has prompted my many ‘letters to the intruder’ in my head over the last few days.
You haven’t really upset me, you’ve shocked me – I now know the feeling of ‘shocked to the core’ as I recall feeling my core crumble when I saw the devastation in my bedroom and felt my legs buckle and my shoulders close inwards until I was on the floor. My core definitely felt it. I realise you didn’t mean to make a mess, after all – you took such care in other parts of my home, making sure things were placed precisely so you could access other things. Unzipping cases and uncovering boxes, but all the while keeping them in the same place rather than moving them around – I appreciate not having to pick too much up from the floor. Thank you for your consideration as you moved around.
Is it consideration though? To ‘consider’ another… is that something that you are able to do? One side of research would suggest you can’t – it would suggest you’ve experienced trauma of some kind that has driven you to a place in your personality where empathising and thinking about how someone feels, is not something your brain is capable of. Sorry, I correct myself, your brain is capable, however you have trained it not to do that. Maybe thinking of others hurts you, maybe you used to think about how others felt and that damaged you, or caused you too much pain… unbearable pain that let’s face it – is easier to bury than acknowledge.
On the other hand, maybe you are considerate. Maybe you’re considering a child… or a family member that has a desperate need for something. A need so desperate that this is the only way you can imagine of providing. In that case you are capable of considering someone else – just not me. Who am I to think about you considering me though, you’re doing a job right? You’re working for a cause – you BELIEVE this is right.
That’s the conflict of human kind isn’t it – I believe I’m right, you believe you’re right…. Don’t get me wrong, if you had done this to someone else I knew, I would be fantasising about stamping on your face and hearing you cry in gut wrenching pain… you’re lucky at the moment as I’m pretty calm about the whole thing.
Are you lucky? Are you lucky if you find something? Are you lucky if you don’t get caught? Are you really lucky… or is your life really crap?!
It genuinely tugs on my heart strings that this is your life – that this is how you go about business… not because it’s me – but because this is your survival. There’s obviously something that makes this be your choice… your direction… would you change it I wonder? Have you done it for so long that you wouldn’t know life any different? Who trained and taught you? What was it like the first time – has the thrill worn off…. or do you work out ways to make it a rush each time… What happened that sent you in this direction? Because I know it wasn’t something nice…
I wonder what you saw when you looked in the mirrors scattered around my home. Did you see yourself? Is your face covered? And if it’s covered… are you hiding from others or yourself? Because when I imagine you looking in those mirrors I see so much sadness. Sadness that this is life for you, sadness that this is your thrill, sadness for the people you’ve hurt intimately yes, but sadness that this is life for you. I’m sure there are perks, financial gain in some cases, technical thrill when a mechanism gives in to your determination and force, a genuine rush as you manage the limited time so effectively, and the well learned calculations of a home that mean you know how to scour it for maximum effect, AND prepare an escape route in case you are caught off guard.
But I still see sadness… I wonder if you can even stomach looking in a mirror, I wonder if you took time to look for long enough – such sadness would stare back at you that you would feel a shock to the core worse than you’ve ever created for another person. I wonder if you would crumble quicker than glass scatters, and if you would end up so low – that up wasn’t even an option anymore. Saying that though, that’s where you are isn’t it – so low that up doesn’t seem like up… so far down a line of habit and hurt, that anything different is inconceivable to you – there is no option that seems better, and if there is – you’ve been robbed of any motivation to actually pursue it.
You see, the biggest ‘robbery’ is the one you’ve experienced – the loss of another option, the loss of freedom, the loss of living without hurt – of others and yourself. You can deny it all you want – but you are a hurt person. Hurt people hurt people – it’s easy to work out who is hurt, even if they don’t know they’re hurting others.
Like I said earlier, you won’t consider that you’re hurting others, as you’ve programmed your brain not to have to think about it – because the reality of how others feel is just too much for you to deal with. I wonder who in your life stopped thinking about how you feel – I wonder who switched their brain off to your feelings so much so that it’s conditioned you to do the same.
That makes me sad for you.
The biggest ‘hurt’ here is yours – mine is temporary… it passes… I get on. Yours is carried with you. Whether you discard a bag or pillow case or whatever you use to carry your ‘loot’ – the hurt is carried with you constantly. You don’t know it – but if the hurt you caused were to surround you, you’d drown in it. And really – that’s all yours. YOU hurt. And it’s sad that you never had anyone to help you with that.. and if you did, you didn’t realise what an asset that would be in your life.
Maybe you think the people who helped you and got you to where you are today, are huge assets… but it’s limited. There’s only so far they’ll get you, I’m sure you’ve already experienced being abandoned by people when you’re no use to them, or being punished by people who believe they’re better than you… I’m sure you’ve experienced it all. Isn’t that sad… That you’ve had to go through that.
You’ve got a sense of entitlement, and that makes sense. Don’t we all bend rules to things we’re entitled to from time to time – lying about the age of a child to get them in somewhere for free, taking an item that doesn’t scan in a supermarket because we believe the machine should work better, finding cash on the ground and keeping it, sitting in a seat on a train and watching others stand, we have a sense of entitlement. We actually share that – you and I… we share a sense of entitlement. Yes yours involves a more obvious hurt to others – but as I’ve said already (probably more than once – because it’s that important to me) you’re not aware of that, you’ve skilfully trained yourself not to be affected in that way. You couldn’t do your ‘job’ if you were thinking about others.
I realise this is literally a medley of my thoughts as they’ve processed over a few days, full of questions, statements, and no proof of research. But like I said at the beginning, you left your mark on me and in my home… I want to leave my own mark – it may be electronic, and it may be words rather than footprints. But they can be just as destructive if I so decide them to be… so they are a weapon I’m happy to use in this instance. Ultimately though, I want to say thank you:
Thank you for what you did do for me.
You emptied every single bag I had – that was a massive clear out bonus for me – I really needed to sort through the pens, tissues and apparently tampons that were distributed throughout too many bags for one person. Thank you for that.
Also thank you for not breaking anything – that speaks volumes to me – it makes me believe you’re human, and you thought about what you moved. I know your motive was to find what you wanted, but I also know it was never to hurt me… (you don’t know how to hurt – because you don’t know how to acknowledge hurt..so you can’t intentionally do it unless you’re provoked on a physical level, which would unearth a subconscious feeling for you that would result in a physical outburst… but maybe that’s for another letter). You even strategically placed something reminding me ‘not to take life too seriously’ – I really appreciated that glimmer of thought that you displayed – that moment when you considered the recipient of your destruction… that moment when you considered me. Oh I know it was fleeting – but it was you communicating with me in a much more humorous fashion than any of the other displaced objects around my home.
And finally, thank you for leaving me in peace. When I discovered your activity, I was most afraid that I wouldn’t know how to feel peace in my home anymore. That’s the most common thing I’ve known for people who experience this, and understandably so. But you haven’t taken mine, my conversations (excluding the ones that happened through my shock ridden chattering jaw) have all been in peace. When I explain to people what you did, I do it in peace. And I’m not trying to be some special ‘you can’t affect me’ hippy type – trust me you’ve had an impact, and your actions have affected me, but you have not, and will not, take away the peace I feel about being in my home. So thank you.