I've always had an overactive imagination, and am somewhat susceptible to suggestion. That's why I avoid horror movies, thrillers, violent TV shows, and the like. After glimpsing a trailer for a zombie movie over a year ago, I still sometimes will fling the bathroom door fully open at 3 am to make sure there's no creepy living-dead neighbor hiding there waiting to get me.
Normally in these situations, I think of my kids, and my irrational fear dies own. No, Dani, there are no vampires/werewolves/zombies/scary monsters. This is real life, you're a mom, you have kids, you're Jewish and you don't believe in that crap!
Still, I sometimes see images or read things that disturb, and my mind goes into over-drive. This is best accomplished when I'm tired, everyone else is sleeping, and it's getting late.
Tonight I was watching a show where there was a murderer on the loose. As the show was wrapping up, my baby started to cry. I got up, and a little prickle of fear started at the back of my neck. I shrugged it off with my usual "Hi, real life calling - that's your baby crying!" I walked into the kids' room, still with this vague sense of danger. I looked at my sleeping daughters, my wailing son in his crib, and I thought of the Fogels. I thought of the real monsters that are in the world, the horrors that can't be shrugged off. I grabed my baby and walked out to the living room shaken.
I feel that I have been somewhat emotionally unstable since I read about the Fogels' murders. I have been moved to tears very easily for the last week and-a-half. I have been over-reacting to things, jumpy, and somewhat neurotic. I don't think I will ever fully go back to that same complacent self I was just 2 weeks ago, that person who could walk into the room of sleeping children and be assured that all was right with the world simply because they're there.
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