#firefightersmatter

What most people don't realize who have never been through one of these tragic fires is that it doesn't boil down to having a house left or not having a house left. I had the chance yesterday to talk to a few more of my neighbors, the ones at the very end of the canyon who got hit by the fire the worst in our area. One elderly couple said that even though they still have a house, and they were allowed to go home yesterday, they can't. It is just too much for them.

I keep having dreams that I'm running around frantically putting out fires or struggling to get my animals out) ever since last year's Crystal fire jolted me out of bed at 2:30 a.m. We had no warning when that fire hit. I watched flames come within 30 feet of my house, burning debris falling from the sky like a meteor shower all over my head, shirt, and my animals while I was frantically trying to load them up and what little else I had time to grab and run with.   I laughed at my friend's suggestion at first and said, "I don't think I'm suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome, I think I'm just suffering from being through too many fires." Then she explained that most people associate PTSD with wars and so don't think of it in terms of natural disasters. But PTSD is caused by being forced into any stressful situation that you have no control over.

The first thing people always ask me when they find out I was one of the evacuees of the High Park Fire is, "Is your house still there?" Like that is all there is to one of these fires: that you either have a house or you don't when it's all said and done. After talking more with neighbors, it became clear that we are all dealing with PTS to some degree, because for the last 3 weeks we have all suffered the exact same circumstances, fears, anxiety, stress, sorrow, frustration, displacement etc., whether we had a house to go back to or not. These fires are not just about losing a house or not losing a house. Anybody who gets evacuated goes through the same exact thing as everybody else who is evacuated. It's just that the recovery time for those who lost their homes will take much longer. But we all experienced and are all feeling the same things right now. When people ask me if I still have a house and I say yes, then they look at me so surprised because I'm not jumping for joy and elated about that. The houses are the least traumatic thing about this whole ordeal; they are a convenience, a possession. It's the process of this whole thing that is where the trauma is.

And now everybody thinks because we are back home that it's life as usual: everything is back to normal. That is not the case. While the media and everybody not affected by the fire has moved on to other drama, our process of recovery is just beginning.When you first have to evacuate, you are kicked into survival mode and that's all you are thinking of. Now we've had the time to process everything that has just happened and what lies ahead. How things will never be the same for any of us ever again, and how every time we drive up the canyon, or take a walk, we will see the constant reminder of what we all just went through, and even years from now, feel that slight pang of fear, sorrow, depression or whatever emotion that was associated with it. THIS is the hard part; the aftermath of a disaster. THIS is where the construction, the healing, the work really begins.

Just talking to my neighbors is different. They don't look or sound the same since this natural disaster struck. You can see by the look on everyone's face in this canyon that we have all just been through hell and back. We're drawn even closer together because of this tragedy we all share, met people and neighbors we would have never met had this tragedy not struck, and those of us with houses left do not feel any different or more fortunate than those who lost theirs; that is the universal sentiment I am getting from everyone. We have friends, and neighbors who have lost everything and our sorrow extends to them. This tragedy affected our community, not just our houses. It affected people, not just property. The property is the least of our concerns, it can and will eventually be replaced. It's how to go back to feeling normal, living without being on pins and needles every time a chopper flies over or we smell smoke, looking at the canyon without being depressed because it just reminds us of what we have lost or almost lost: and it wasn't homes we lost or possessions, it was security, safety, normalcy, control, beauty, peace of mind, sanctuary. All of us see Redstone Canyon, and the other areas hit by the High Park Fire, as an extension of our homes. So even if we still have houses standing, the canyon - our extended home - took quiet a hit and it has changed. This canyon is just as much a part of our lives as our houses are and we all look at it that way. #firefightersmatter

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