On the 15th January 2020 someone broke into our home when me and my boyfriend were out.
The day had started poorly as my Crohn’s symptoms had been particularly nasty the previous night, lots of vomiting and pain.
I had decided I fancied grabbing a Mcdonalds for lunch, not something I normally do but I really wanted to something lazy. My boyfriend picked me up from work and when we got home the front door was still locked.
As I looked into the living room I noticed a drawer on the floor with my stuff all over the place. My heart dropped, I felt sick to my core.
I knew in that moment someone had broken into our home.
It makes me really sad writing this post, not because someone broke in and took things that didn’t belong to them that we’d worked hard for – I mean after all it is just stuff. It is the emotional termoil caused by the act of someone breaking in.
The evening of being broken into I didn’t sleep a wink, every bump and every noise had me on edge, I was in on my own early the morning after and I was absolutely terrified.
I feel really stupid I’m a grown woman jumping at the slightest noise.
A few days on, and this has lessened a little, I am still a little on edge but it breaks my heart that these types of people are out there. And more often than not they never get caught.
If you have ever been affected be something like this, drop me a comment I’d really appreciate it. Or even if you havn’t it’s nice to hear from people.
And one saying that comes to mind that I must remember:
Illegitimi non carborundum – “Don’t let the bastards grind you down”
Thanks for reading.