Violated

It came to me yesterday what was bothering me so much about the persistent knocking. Why I do not want to answer the knocks on my door first thing in the morning or when it is late at night.

It is like strangers are asking for admission to my bedroom. There is no peep hole or window so I can see who is knocking on my door. No chain lock, if I decide to open it to see who is there. It stresses me~that sudden, loud knock. Who is out there? I assume it is one of the neighbors wanting something. I do not even want the lady seeing me in night clothes. Definitely do not want the man or young man in my bedroom. I feel violated.

My mind races back to Broadway. I am a barefoot person. I kick off my shoes as soon as I get in the door. Horrible part of being homeless~shoes on all day, most often and sleeping with shoes on. Some homeless take them off. Other homeless sometimes steals them. Running was always on my mind when I laid down to sleep. My shoes stayed on.

He was a gentleman or so I thought. I took off my shoes, not even thinking about it~pure habit~when he pushed his way inside after the date. Into my living room that is also my bedroom. I do not want these new neighbors admitted into my bedroom. I wish they would stop knocking on my door. I do not think my mental health is their business. I have told them about it. Why must I tell them the private details about why their knocking on my door sets off the PTSD symptoms. Sigh.