Sometimes stuff happens that hits close to home, whether it’s in your heart, or literally close to where you live. Last night, a friend of mine texted me about a fire where she lives, which happens to be where I grew up for the first thirteen years of my life. It wasn’t just a small fire either; it was huge, it damaged 10 units and even though the fire itself didn’t affect her unit, she was without power until sometime this afternoon.
A high school acquaintance also lives there, with her children. Her home was just feet from where the fire started, and luckily it progressed away from her unit so she and her children still have everything they own. My heart aches for all of those families affected, and it has weighed heavily on my heart and mind all day. I’m saddened.
I walked those halls that are now covered in ash and roof parts.
Inside those brick walls were families, just trying to make ends meet.
So many memories just up in flames, and I didn’t even live there anymore.
I went to therapy this morning, confused as to why this fire affected me so much. I felt selfish, again beating myself up for feeling this way when I wasn’t even involved.
In a nutshell, I was worried about my friends, thankful they were okay and naturally wanting to do whatever I could to help them. I’ve been through a fire before, years ago, so those feelings resurfaced for them. On top of that, I connect to this place because it’s the last place with good memories of my late sister. It all just came together and that’s why it’s been on my mind all day long.
I’m not selfish, because I want to help. I’ve offered help, just waiting to see if it’s needed. I’ve prayed for them and will continue to pray for those affected.
But it’s okay to feel this way, and it makes me wonder if anyone else has felt this way about something that didn’t affect them directly. Leave me a comment if so, I’d love to hear your story. ❤
BPD: A Journey 