Pierre is the embodiment of my struggles. Pierre is also the name of the guy that allegedly robbed me, about two weeks before Thanksgiving. Given everything that I've been dealing with, being robbed was obviously not a welcome event. I was pretty freaking upset and the depression and anxiety took hold the day I found out what had happened. I felt hopeless and powerless, unable to stop the bad things from happening. I cried pretty hard (though I cry pretty hard a lot lately so, there's that...)
And suddenly, something clicked in my head. Pierre took my things, sure. But I decided right then and there that Pierre would get nothing more from me. He wasn't going to take my self worth or sense of hope. And then I decided Pierre would symbolize everything that had gone wrong in my life.
It may sound silly, but giving a name to my heartaches helped stop me from being bogged down by them. When something goes wrong, I can say, "Fuck off, Pierre! Not today!" It's crazy but it works.
Plus, there is something inherently ridiculous in getting robbed by a man named Pierre. I keep picturing a tiny dude in stripes and a beret, holding a French baguette. That image makes me laugh.
So, yeah, Pierre took physical things from me. But the stuff that really counts? It's not up for grabs.
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