It's been just over a month since the break in and in its aftermath is the awareness that life will never be quite the same again - but that is not necessarily a bad thing.

Since last fall, when my daughter decided she wanted to be done with wayward proceedings, counselors, anger, rebellion and illegal drugs, we had been gradually repairing our fractured relationship. It was slow at first, but with her head finally clear and her eyes open again, it didn't take her long to realize she did not have as much in common with her friends as she thought. In the few months prior to the "invasion" we had become comfortable with one another, in it's aftermath we have grown close again.

Not so for my son. He is still living at his father's and I don't suspect he will return home before he leaves for college at the end of the summer. Battling the intruders alone in the dark, thinking he had been stabbed and might be bleeding to death had an impact much greater than the one that caused the scar on the top of his head. He could probably use some counseling but he does not want to talk about it and I can't force him. He is 18 now and while I will always be available to provide advice and offer support, there are some decisions that are now his to make. The fact that he has pulled in and turned away makes me a little sad, but considering that he has never been good with transitions, the violent wrenching from familiar patterns may have provided needed separation. And he does seem to be spending more time with his friends so perhaps living with his father, who is rarely home, and looking to friends for support will be a good segue into college life come September.

Personally, I now have a greater appreciation for many of my friends. I was surprised by some of those who stepped forward - and by some who did not. I know everyone has stuff going on in their lives and with what I've gone through for the last few years, I have not always been a good friend myself so I harbor no feelings of resentment for the latter but I was touched by those who offered to stay with me if I needed them, those who extended invitations to outings or included me in their plans so I wouldn't be alone and those who texted and/or messaged me regularly for days so I would feel connected. I appreciate every person who reached out to express concern but it is those who did a little extra to show it that I will remember to hold most dear.

Finally got the motion detector lights and new locks installed and, tired of traveling back and forth to my parents, decided it was time to leave fear behind and reclaim my life. Easier said than done. Unfortunately, my son, still rattled and comfortably ensconced at his father's, and my daughter, still plagued by nightmares didn't feel the same way. So I went back home alone.

Wednesday night wasn't too bad - a little sleep deprived from a week and a half on the couch in my parent's den, I went to bed early and slept straight through til that 4 AM wall I have yet to get past. But the second night, returning to my quiet, empty house after drinks with a friend and just a wee bit drunk, the weight of dealing with everything alone was overwhelming and I reached out to someone who once could make everything seem better with a simple hug. He was patient and sympathetic and I was finally able to sleep, clinging to my phone like a lifeline.

I didn't realize I would still be alone on Friday night. With no plans the evening stretched out interminably. I tried to keep busy but a detective's suggestion that new information uncovered regarding a purse gone missing exactly one week before the break in indicated the "invasion" was not the perpetrator's first nocturnal visit to my house, had me jumping at every sound and sent my imagination into overdrive. Desperately needing someone, I reached for the phone again.

We had gone nearly a year without contact when he sent me a text out of the blue last fall. We got together a few times. He said he missed me and wanted me to be a part of his life, promised he wasn't going to disappear on me again. I didn't really believe him but I hoped it was true because I had missed him too. Over the winter we did establish an awkward friendship and though lately it seemed I was the one who always initiated contact and it had been a couple of months since we'd last seen one another, deep down, I always thought if I really needed him, he would be there for me. I was wrong.

Though he was sweet and told me to check in with him, I had the feeling they were just words. It dawned on me that though he had learned of the incident from my lj post, he hadn't called or texted to see how I was. He hadn't called or texted to see how I was holding up after the previous night's drunken ramblings. I hadn't heard from him in a couple of months - not even on my birthday. He did say he doesn't know how to interact with me anymore because I'm always telling him I hate him - it's true I have said it a few times, but not often and he knows I don't mean it, it's code for I miss you or I need you - words I've never been comfortable saying. And besides the last time we were together we had a good time and parted on good terms, we texted regularly for weeks and I hate you was never uttered, I thought we were finally getting to where we really could be good friends and then...nothing. I'm confused. I'm not sure what last fall was all about - quite frankly, I don't understand him at all. I thought I did long ago but I'm not even sure about that anymore. I suspect now I never will, feeling foolish and a bit stupid because it hadn't occurred to me that he had cooled to the point where an assault on my family had so little significance, I texted a late night apology and promised I won't bother him again. It's going to be tough though- my plans for the evening having just been canceled, I'm facing another long weekend night home alone. And this time truly alone, his background presence had been a comfort for many months, and I feel like someone just cut my safety line while I'm clinging to a cliff.

I did learn one thing though - pain, the kind that comes from acute embarrassment, rejection and heavy sadness is a good cure for fear.

But I don't recommend it.

I've had my share over the last few years, more than my share, I thought. Figured I was getting to the point where not too much could rattle me. On June 25th, 2011, I discovered I was wrong. Very very wrong. That morning, shortly before 4:30 AM - my home was invaded and my children assaulted.

I woke to barking dogs, my son's repeated, terrified bellowing and scuffling sounds. Still groggy and so unaccustomed to crime and violence, my first thought was that a live squirrel has escaped from the cat and was leaping around the house with the dogs in hot pursuit. I jumped out of bed, flicked on the light, started down the stairs shouting, "What the hell..", and froze, the words stuck in my throat at the sight of a masked stranger, in black, standing in the middle of my living room turning towards my daughter and her boyfriend, asleep on the couch, just rousing from the commotion. He picked up the coffee table, hoisted it over his head, rotated it so the narrow end was pointing at the couple on the couch and rammed it full force into them before ducking out the door.

I raced the rest of the way down the stairs, horrified, afraid to look but vaguely aware of movement. Needing to see to Syd and Rich but distracted by my Ian's continued hoarse screams, I called out for him to stop, the intruder was gone. He hollered back that he'd been attacked and he was hurt and I rounded the corner to find him on the phone, holding his head, blood pooling in his hand and running down his face. He looked at me wild eyed yelling that he'd been stabbed. My stomach lurched and my bones turned to jelly, I was paralyzed, torn as to which of my children needed me most, not knowing who I should go to first. Syd and Rich starting walking around, dazed, wondering what the hell had happened just as the 911 operator picked up. My son spoke fast and loud but with amazing clarity into the phone - telling them we'd been attacked by several intruders in ski masks and he was hurt. The police were there in minutes.

Chaos ensued as my house filled with police and medics – I discovered Ian had shut his light and gone to bed shortly after 4 AM. He was almost asleep when, Ping, the dog he lets sleep in his room, jumped off his bed and started barking at the gate across his open doorway. He saw shadows and a figure opening the door to Sydney's room and realized Ping would not be barking at a family member. He got out of bed, turned on his light and jumped over the gate to the kitchen to be met by two or three masked men in black who immediately jumped him. Shrieking in terror, he was struck hard in the head, and struggled desperately, believing he was fighting for his life. They got him down on the floor but couldn't hold him as he tried to reach into the cupboard for a pan to fight back with. When I yelled and turned on the light, they were gone and he grabbed the phone. It was only later, when we found the cast iron skillet from my stove on the floor of my screen porch near the hole ripped in the screen where they came in and exited that we realized what had probably caused the gash in Ian's head.

The final outcome – Nothing was stolen, at least nothing we've noticed, certainly nothing of any value. A few items were broken or damaged. Ian received six staples, Rich multiple stitches to reattach the bottom of an ear that was almost severed by a ceramic potted plant that smashed between his head and the coffee table, Syd was treated for bruises and I was sent to the ER for observation due to chest pain and shortness of breath. The police picked up three young men driving down our road. Three young men who know my daughter and her boyfriend. One of whom has a grudge against the two of them. They were held for a few hours and then released due to a lack of evidence tying them to our house. The investigation continues, the police seem pretty determined. I've bought motion detector lights and new locks for all the doors, but as of this post, we're still not sleeping in our house and my son wonders if it will ever feel like home again.

Went on my first date in nearly two years tonight. Someone new I met a few weeks ago through a friend on fb. A very nice guy who I've enjoyed talking to a great deal. But when we got to the car after dinner and he had that look on his face, I froze. He leaned in for what I'm sure he thought was a rousing kiss and I tried, I really tried...but nothing. Sigh. The only burning desire I have at the moment is for a toothbrush. I told him I like to take things slow and he said he does too, but sooner or later I'm going to have to tell him it's a no go and I suspect, like most men, he will not want to remain just friends.

it occurs to me that I have not decided which is the greater loss - the lack of someone dear with whom to share moments of excitement, joy and elation or the absence of a trusted confidant to commiserate with over frustration, disappointment and despair.

men suck.

My whole social life is in jeopardy because of one guy who is convinced he is in love with me and though he says he knows and accepts that I do not now and never will feel the same way about him, can't seem to stick to established boundaries since his wife blew up their life a few weeks ago. Unfortunately, I don't think slapping him across the face while yelling "Snap out of it!" will work.

It's been a long time since I was that shy little girl, standing with her back against the brick wall of the school, watching the other kids play at recess and wishing someone would ask me to join. Long ago I figured out that they won't ask, I have to step forward and let them know I'm there to play. So I have learned to reach out, though it hasn't been easy, being a single mom with children who have been a challenge, each in their own unique way, working full time in a small office and living on the outskirts of a rural town with few neighbors and no family close by. I have made friends, but I still seem to be missing something. Why, if so many people claim to enjoy my company, tell me I'm smart, funny, easy to talk to and interesting to be around, say they have a blast when we go out and they can't wait to do it again, do I spend so many holidays & weekends home alone? Maybe my expectations are skewed but other people seem able to pull off a balanced social life - what am I missing? Is there a key? I hope so and that I find it soon - lately I hear a voice from my childhood that I remember well whispering in my ear at times when I'm alone and feeling lonely, "Don't bother, nobody wants to play with you. There is something wrong with you, even people who are supposed to care about you don't really want you around. If you go over, they may let you in, but eventually they'll just walk away."

As I've written this it occurs to me that maybe that girl was right, she was so negative, I don't want to be around her either, and I don't want to be like her. I think it's time to banish her for good. I just may make that part of my New Years Resolution. Looks like I may have had the key all along, I just misplaced it for awhile.

Got an invite via fb to the Divas of Drag Holiday Revue. A friend from high school, a member of the Providence Gay Man's chorus, will be performing. I very much want to go but the girls from work, who all jumped on board with enthusiasm two weeks ago when first mentioned, have all begged off, one at a time, the last yesterday, opting for a "better offer" to a comedy club with relatives.

That leaves two options - go solo, or send a message to another friend, one who mentioned he may be attending and already asked if I would be interested in going with him. A friend who suddenly decided to end his troubled marriage after expressing feelings for me aroused while planning our recent class reunion. A friend whose company I enjoyed before this unfortunate turn of events but who will never be more than a friend in my eyes and to whom I have made this VERY clear. A friend with an obsessive nature who has a tendency to present us as a couple though I have reminded him repeatedly that we are not and never will be.

I do not think I will find this event nearly as enjoyable by myself. So...do I go alone and hope that I run into people I know? Or do I see if my friend is still planning on going and risk perpetuating a fanstasy that is, at best, uncomfortable for me and possibly unhealthy for him.

OR... do I just say "screw it" and stay home alone again on a Saturday night.

you're in for a wild ride.

That's what the woman at the Tri-Town Community Action Center said to me at the end of our meeting as she handed me the paperwork I needed to have my daughter declared wayward. I guess when I told her we've been thru two substance abuse programs she didn't get that I've already been on this ride for two long years. I thought the first year was tough but this last has been the worst of my life, especially the past 6 months. There is no pleasure, no peace, no comfort, no joy. Only fear and anger, disappointment, heartache and despair. And exhaustion - the deep, mind numbing exhaustion that makes your bones feel heavy and your joints ache. Last summer, when I still had energy and optimism, I helped form the committee to plan our 30th class reunion. It is this coming Friday. We have a great location on the beach in Newport RI with an excellent caterer and a reknown DJ. The dress is bought, my hair styled and colored, the ticket paid for, a room rented with a friend and I don't even know if I'll be going. The girl is missing. Put her on the bus for the last day of school four days ago and haven't seen or heard from her since, though I have heard reports that she has been seen in town. There are parties afoot and in a town where dysfunction is the norm, there are ample places for her to crash unquestioned by conscientious parents. Worry aside, it would be less devastating if there hadn't been such a marked improvement over the last few weeks. I thought maybe, just maybe, she could see that she is so much more when she is straight and sober. That she isn't just nicer, that she's smarter, funnier and cooler. And whether she believes it or not, she seems happier. I wish she could see what I see.

I remember when I was little and my grandfather talked me into going on a small roller coaster at a local amusement park. I screamed the whole ride. "Make it stop, make it stop, I want to get off".

That scream has become a constant litany within my head. I want off this ride too.

Wishing my son a very Happy Birthday. Words can not express how much I appreciate the smart, funny, considerate, ethical almost-man he has become.