August 3, 2023

I am the one who is still in shock—dysregulated and confused by the events of that day.

I am the one who unconsciously still feels this trauma flashback imprinted in my nervous system. I know because this memory showed itself organically in the midst of extreme dysregulation leading up to a current kitchen renovation.

I felt the young scared parts who saw the flames shooting out of the kitchen window after I got off the school bus that day. I saw you yelling at me to go get help. I dropped my backpack and took off like a speed racer with all the adrenaline overwhelming my teenage body, yet felt frozen and helpless like the baby. You refused to leave the house until the firemen convinced and escorted you. I remember you yelling, “I will NOT leave my house” and I stood frozen watching this—scared of what might have happened if they were unsuccessful.

Then I remember a kitchen burnt with black holes in the ceiling and soot that spread through our family and living rooms. We had no working kitchen for weeks, maybe months since you refused to fix it until the insurance money came in.

I remember you blaming 15 year old sissy for the fire since SHE should have been paying attention or hear something when YOU left the food cooking and took a call locked in your bedroom down the hall.

I remember stuffing my true feelings of fear and chaos since you never once asked if WE were OK.

I am the one who knows I have the capacity as an adult to manage the disruption of a renovation, but felt it as if I was 13 watching a burning house.