I hate Bonfire Night for a Reason

When my friends talk about November the 5th, they mention fire-work displays, wonder how big the bonfire will be, sparklers and Toffee Apples. They are usually excited planning their night out. However, they don't understand why I don't react in the same way, so for the first time since I was a young child, I am opening up about it.

When I was young, my mum and dad had many bonfires in the back garden on bonfire night. I would often watch them from my living room window, shaking and terrified with tears in my eyes; this went on for many long years.

As I got to my teen years, I started forcing myself to attend displays and face a bonfire. I would put on a brave, happy, mask because I felt bad about being afraid, and I didn't want to look like a coward. I used to love watching the fireworks go off from a fair distance. I didn't like the fireworks themselves, it was mostly the color and patterns in the sky that I liked. During this time, I felt extremely nervous, anxious and sick to be out on Bonfire night, but I always concealed it for fear of been called a baby, as one of my exes used to seriously abuse me over it.

As I got a little older, I started getting better with fire. However a tragedy struck me after I left home, and I was caught in a fire at my girlfriends house. Cutting it short as not to traumatise myself too much; there was a problem with her gas cooker which exploded in the kitchen while I was in the lounge. I got out alive, but sadly my girlfriend (Karen) didn't make it.

I have spent so many years bitterly grieving over this, feeling guilty and angry for surviving when she lost her life. I can't help but think her life should have been saved before mine. After all, she was my girlfriend and anyone would feel the same way in my situation.

I was heartbroken beyond belief. I still remember her mum trying to tell me what happened and struggling with it. Her mum (Elaine) is still grieving today, but we do stay in touch and support each other through messages.

Karen was my first serious girlfriend (I am bi-sexual). I never introduced her to my family at that time, because I was struggling to come to terms with my sexuality, and I had no idea how my family would take it. Karen's mum helped me to deal with it. She taught me that I had every right to be my self, and my orientation belonged to me. She is still my advisor on many things today. I did live with Karen and her mum for about 2 months before the explosion when I first left home, after I tried escaping a boyfriend at the time who I had moved in with and was hurting me. Me and Karen got together a short while after, though we were together for some time at school too.

At the time of the explosion, I sat wrapped in a blanket terrified and in complete shock. I can still see and smell the fire today, I can still hear the explosion and the shouting and screaming that came with it. I can't stand being outside where there is fire, and I panic when I see police cars, ambulances and fire engines. If you have read my other stories, you will already know about what happened to my boyfriend Tony, which only adds to my trauma.

I have to put this straight. I get fed up with people saying, to me "Carol, you should be over it now," "Carol, don't be a baby," and in the past, one what was popular, "Carol, think of the kids, they need to enjoy bonfire night." While the last one is true, my children were taken to displays at Little-down, near where I live, and I did try to go to a few of them. However it always ended with me in a bad mood and tears because of the intense fear, which is why I stopped going. My husband however, was supportive and he took them to a few displays by himself.

Today, many years later, I still have the same fear. I can stand on the doorstep or look out of my window at the fireworks, but I can't be near a fire. Also, the bangs from the fireworks make me jump and anxious because they are a massive trigger to my PTSD.

Many people I know, assume that once you have had therapy, PTSD is cured. That is just a myth, therapy is not a cure for PTSD, it teaches you strategies that help to make it manageable. A person with PTSD still has the memories and triggers from the trauma that caused it. I try to manage it by wearing a perfume on my wrists so that when I am out, if there is a smell of fire, I can block the smell. If I see a fire, I won't go past the scene, and if I hear the siren of police, ambulance or fire brigade, it is very difficult to control my anxiety with the breathing techniques I have. I remember coming home with my husband once, and there had been a car crash. We were stuck behind it, and I had a severe panic attack in the car. It took my husband a long time to calm me down after that, as I was shaking, sweating, crying and unable to breath. I can get in a car with my husband driving it, but I can't take driving lessons, because both trauma's with Karen and Tony have affected me so badly, that I panic just sitting in the drivers seat.

I am often faced with stigma because of the PTSD, and many find it hard to understand what I go through. The problem is, if you have never been in my shoes, then I can never expect you to understand. However, I do ask this. Please, if you see me struggling or freezing by a road, reach out to help me, even if you don't understand what I am going through. These attacks only come on, when I am triggered, however don't expect me to talk about the traumatic events because they will trigger my PTSD further. It costs nothing but kindness to reach out and help someone dealing with PTSD. We are not violent, we are just scared because of what we have been through.

Karen's favourite quote was "When you see a dove flying in the sky, you know you are not alone."

Thankyou for reading my story. I'd appreciate it if you would heart and share it. Tips are nice but they are optional. However they do help me along on my writing journey, so they are very much appreciated.

You can read my story 'Tony' by clicking this link:

https://vocal.media/psyche/tony