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How do I put this...I'm scared? I'm nervous? I'm numb? I'm freaked?

All of the above. Yeah, that works.
So last night my house was broken into, trashed, and robbed. They took many important things, but the worst would have to be many important documents and some of my father's firearms. I was the one who called the police because the vastness of the situation had not hit be yet, and it took two hours for them to get here.
In the meantime, my family and I were forced to wait outside near our broken door because we were told not to touch anything. We waiting in the cold for two hours and just looked at what had happened to us: broken door, ripped up presents that were meant for my cousins, trashed rooms, stolen memories, priceless pictures of lost family.
When the officer did arrive, he was very apologetic about what had happened and all...but still, our house, the place that we thought was safe, had been trashed and our sense of security dashed.

The even better news: They might come back for the stuff they didn't take including electronics, instruments, and other things that they couldn't carry while on foot.

But on a happy note, I get my three year old wish come true: we might be getting a dog.