I'm still pretty shaken up

The semester is almost over and I think I made it out with three A's. It was difficult, the most difficult semester I've had since My last in undergrad. I don't think I have ever been challenged this much in the field of academics. I learn all about social research and just how research is done in general. I learn about cultural diversity and how it effects every part of my view on social classes. I learn about French philosophy and how much I don't understand it. I also learn about friendship and collaboration. How to develop an advanced idea and get it out of my head. I couldn't list all the lessons I learned right now because I can't remember them all right now. It was very production semester but I'm tired now. It's not quite over because I still have a paper to write but that's pretty much done. I was feeling really good about surviving the semester and making some new friends until this morning.

I got to sleep late because I was having one of those conversations I have with friend M (that's how I will refering to her from now one). You know the ones where you share some very deep things and then you feel really good that you have a friend you can share that kinda depth with. My mom came in my room and started talking before I was awake, she does that. I didn't really hear the first part and started to wake up around the, "your glove compartment is open, the light is on, and it wasn't that way last night." I soon realized I was going to have to go outside and look at what she reporting to me. I still wasn't coherant but I put on my house shoes and robe and went outside.

When I got there, the light was on, the driver's door was left open and papers where falling out of the glove box. I thought maybe my brother went in the car to get the insurance papers, why he would need them I had no idea but that was the only idea my foggy brain could fathom. I walked around to the drivers door and noticed the ashtray was open, the compartment under the CD player [and all the items in it] had been thrown on the floor. I knew at that moment that the person who had done this was nobody I knew. I felt violated, taken advantaged up. I went in the house and laid in the bed. I need to feel safe and for the first in a long time I didn't.

I live in a relatively safe neighborhood or so I thought. Over the years, the demographic has changed. It was full of families with small children, now I'm not sure. I no longer know who my neighbors are and that is just as scary as someone rifling through my car and not taking anything because now I don't know if it was one of my neighbors who did this or someone passing through. I'm not sure how address this problem other then to make sure my car and house are locked up tight. I think this only adds to the problem dividing a community into individuals who don't know or trust each other. I wouldn't say leaving your house open all the time would be a solution to that problem but being afraid and never leaving isn't either. I guess I'm looking for a solution to keep from losing my community.