anxiety

so last week, around 10:45 pm, a guy knocks on my door. i live on the most neighborhoodly street ever. all the neighbors are out a lot of the time, talking to eachother, waving, watching out for eachother. i've always felt so safe here. hell, i sit out on my porch at 2 in the morning having a smoke. anyway, this guy knocks on my door, and i thought it was a friend of my backyard neighbor needing something. i open the top of my dutch door, and he says "look at this" pointing out to the street. i said "what??" and he said "come look at this" walking a little further out on my porch. i turned my head to the left a little, peering out into the street. out of nowhere (or out of my bad blind spot on my right side) a guy in a ski mask jumps up, pointing a gun at me, saying "scream and i'll kill you," so of course, i screamed and slammed the door, locking it and calling the police all the while having the worst adrenaline rush and then freak out adrenaline let down ever. i don't think i've ever been so scared, except maybe when i've gotten in a few close calls while driving. i don't know what they wanted, if it was really a real gun, or what, but now i can't go out on my porch after dark. and i'm having a hard time sleeping. and i'm totally fucking paranoid that i'm going to die at my home. i keep telling myself that it was probably just some stupid punk kids trying to scare the single lady and that it wasn't a real gun, and that they'll never come back, but fuck. i hate not feeling safe on my own porch. i love sitting out on this porch in the middle of the night, with no traffic noise, listening to the ocean. i love being able to go to sleep knowing that all i have to worry about is getting up early. now, i can't go out on my porch after dark without having an anxiety attack, and i'm waking up with adrenalie rushes, almost screaming, from some unremembered trauma in my dreams. this fucking sucks. and i was feeling so happy too. so not depressed at all, and energetic, and hopeful. now i just feel blah again, all because some punks thought they'd get a laugh. it's not fair. i've been a victim of crime twice before. once when my car was stolen, with my house keys and driver's license in the car (scary) and once when some guy tried to take advantage of me when i was passed out in a friends bed (also scary, but i woke up and chased him out and never went back there again.) obviously i got over those incidents, but i've not had anything like this happen in or near my home. i really don't know what to do with this. is it something that will go away with time? am i supposed to learn something from this besides the fact that some people are just evil little assholes? am i supposed to become hypersensitive (or stay the way that i am now forever) and always carry pepper spray in my right hand at the ready and not go out of my house after dark ever again (interesting to think of considering i get home from work way after dark)? i don't know. obviously i'm rambling. on another note, i've not wanted a boyfriend more in my life than i did that night.