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May. 7th, 2018 03:40 pmOn my porch again. Sunny, warm, & beautiful.
I'm in a strange head space today. I found out today that a friend of mine (who I interact with mostly on Twitter, but we began as friends IRL) sustained burns in a house fire last week. She contacted me to find out exactly how long she should expect to have acute traumatic stress symptoms, like jumping at the sound of anything remotely "popping" and physically recoiling from warm, flickering light. She didn't go to the ER at the time of the burns, so I was also able to stage her burns for her via pics.
It's interesting, thinking about a remote trauma from the standpoint of both healthcare provider and survivor. I told her the acute trauma resolved for me in less than a year, maybe 7-8 months. Chronic triggers have remained but they're quite specific: the smell of burned cooking oil, the visual of someone being burned with cooking oil (which is rare but has happened in a couple of TV shows; one I had pre-warning but one blindsided me recently). Aside from those rare triggers, though, the visceral, fundamental terror of fighting and winning the fire that burned me (I carried it outside the house to stop the house from burning down) has left me with a couple of superpowers: I have the pain tolerance/hit points of a demigoddess and I am almost supernaturally calm & confident in a crisis. Frankly I think I'm 10 feet tall & bulletproof, and I believe I have fire to thank for that.
Another burn survivor friend of mine says she thinks when you're burned, you remain a part of the fire. Like it's inside us now. I love that idea. It makes me feel different, but in a badass way as opposed to a "burn PTSD has fucked up my brain" way.
B, my newly burned friend, says she feels so much better after talking to me. I was able to stage her burns & able to give her some idea of what successful emotional recovery is like. Consequently, I also feel better. If I was able to help support her in her emotional & physical recovery, then what happened to me gains a little more meaning, outside of simply the ways it shaped me. I can use that experience to make the world better for someone else, which is more or less the meaning I've chosen for my own life: make the world better.
Bryan & Ganon are bringing home Sonic drinks so very shortly I'll be swinging in a hammock drinking strawberry limeade, thinking about how, at least at this moment, I've achieved the meaning I want for my life.
I'm in a strange head space today. I found out today that a friend of mine (who I interact with mostly on Twitter, but we began as friends IRL) sustained burns in a house fire last week. She contacted me to find out exactly how long she should expect to have acute traumatic stress symptoms, like jumping at the sound of anything remotely "popping" and physically recoiling from warm, flickering light. She didn't go to the ER at the time of the burns, so I was also able to stage her burns for her via pics.
It's interesting, thinking about a remote trauma from the standpoint of both healthcare provider and survivor. I told her the acute trauma resolved for me in less than a year, maybe 7-8 months. Chronic triggers have remained but they're quite specific: the smell of burned cooking oil, the visual of someone being burned with cooking oil (which is rare but has happened in a couple of TV shows; one I had pre-warning but one blindsided me recently). Aside from those rare triggers, though, the visceral, fundamental terror of fighting and winning the fire that burned me (I carried it outside the house to stop the house from burning down) has left me with a couple of superpowers: I have the pain tolerance/hit points of a demigoddess and I am almost supernaturally calm & confident in a crisis. Frankly I think I'm 10 feet tall & bulletproof, and I believe I have fire to thank for that.
Another burn survivor friend of mine says she thinks when you're burned, you remain a part of the fire. Like it's inside us now. I love that idea. It makes me feel different, but in a badass way as opposed to a "burn PTSD has fucked up my brain" way.
B, my newly burned friend, says she feels so much better after talking to me. I was able to stage her burns & able to give her some idea of what successful emotional recovery is like. Consequently, I also feel better. If I was able to help support her in her emotional & physical recovery, then what happened to me gains a little more meaning, outside of simply the ways it shaped me. I can use that experience to make the world better for someone else, which is more or less the meaning I've chosen for my own life: make the world better.
Bryan & Ganon are bringing home Sonic drinks so very shortly I'll be swinging in a hammock drinking strawberry limeade, thinking about how, at least at this moment, I've achieved the meaning I want for my life.
