First, a look back at my childhood. I'm trying to recognize happy memories as well lately, because they do exist and because I have started understanding that acknowledging them does not negate the other things that happened.
We lived in the country, in the midst of nowhere really. Fireworks weren't legal but there weren't exactly a lot of law enforcement. And my father (and uncle when I was small) knew how to do some amazing fireworks. Fourth of July was the night we were allowed to stay up later than any other night of the year.Then we'd have an amazing display, complete with home-rigged safety devices. We also would drive to this rural place that overlooked the nearest town from a distance from high up and watch fireworks that way too. It was fun and the fireworks were pretty and it was a touch of normalcy.
Then many years later I moved here. Fireworks are a big deal here; it's a town thing. Which is fine if it were restricted to town but it is not; instead the general public shoots them off for days. I have one neighbor who shoots them off for at least 5, often 7-10, days per year. They scare me as they live up the hill from me an are essentially aiming at me. I have found evidence of near misses to my home before.
Every year I remember the year the blog started, 5 years ago. I was home on disability and not doing well. I was on high doses of multiple meds to get me to sleep and still I stayed awake. I was exhausted and agitated and having constant mood swings. I spent hours and hours that year in my basement, hiding from the noise and crying. My now deceased cat Elijiah would cuddle with me in the hammock I have in the basement and I'd try to read, or think or pray or anything.
Now every year that there are excessive fireworks it triggers that run and hide reaction. I don't need to, I just wish they'd at least enforce a curfew for noise if not the fireworks law.
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