Once the verdict came in and the city settled down, I took the nurse's advice to heart and began the process of talking myself out of anxiety. Of course, it's a process: I kept thinking I was doing well, and then I'd have a night when I would allow my thoughts to wander back to that awful place.
I made a resolution: if I hadn't heard from Roc, I wouldn't watch the news. I started to avoid the so-called friends who would make really smart comments, like: "Aren't you terrified?"
And: "Don't you just wish he would quit?"
And: "Isn't he over this yet?"
And: "Do you miss your old life?"
I didn't blame them per se, but I also found myself questioning their judgement. Could you imagine me saying, "Are you upset that your child has Tourette's Syndrome? Did you ever think about putting him up for adoption? I mean, isn't it hard?"
I would be branded an insensitive ass faster than you can say Law Enforcement.
So why is there a double-standard at play here?
Am I crazy, or do people bring all of their prejudices about cops to the fore of each conversation, forgetting that there is a human being behind the shield?
I simply wanted the same respect for my husband that everyone else wanted; and I needed support, not dissension.
I removed myself slowly from people who just didn't get it, and I find I don't miss them now. It's been a helluva journey...and there's a lot more to come.