I remember the horror stories of Hurricane Katrina. I actually had several clients that I was privileged to work with that survived that storm. While feeling the guttural impacts of that storm as I helped survivors worked through the trauma of it, it still seemed distant and far away to me. I am just being honest. No one, and I firmly believe NO ONE, can truly understand any experience unless they have to walk through it first-hand. And until now, I had never been faced with that powerful of a Hurricane myself. But now…..
I’ve lived in this region of the United States for most of my life and hurricanes are a normal part of life for us. We get tornados and hurricanes in the Summer and Fall, every year for as long as I can remember. We weather it (literally). We hunker down, batten down the hatches, and ride it out. We lose power, internet, water….but we get it back, sometimes in a couple of days, sometimes a week. But for the most part, except for a few relatively minor repairs, we move on with our lives. Idalia was different. When Idalia came through last year it altered the course of our history forever. I had clients immediately come to me for trauma work, suffering from such severe PTSD symptoms afterward that it was debilitating for them. Innumerous homes were destroyed, and the entire town was affected. Roads were blocked with trees and power lines, widespread power outages made running any business impossible. We were all put on pause. But, eventually, some sense of normalcy was restored, and life moved on. Before Helene, I still passed by the ravages of Idalia every single day when traveling to and from work. Downed trees can still be seen waiting to be removed, even a year later. Some businesses never recovered. Some people lost their homes forever, and had to find new living arrangements. But we were going on with life, as best we could. We found a “new normal.”
Then rumors of Helene began, but, to be honest, I did not take them completely seriously. Something in me thought that we would never have to live through another Idalia. As if the laws of the Universe were too kind to allow for that experience to be repeated in a lifetime. I told myself it would be like any other “regular” hurricane, and it would be okay. I even told someone I was sure we would have power restored within two days. I was actually that sure that it would have a minor impact on us. Boy, was I wrong!
On Thursday evening, I started seeing social media warning posts, and began tuning in to the weather. My anxiety started to rise. By the time the storm was actually near hitting us, heavy rain was pounding our house, and the lights were beginning to flicker, my kids and I were camped out in the most solid room in the house without windows. When the high-force winds (80+ mph, from what I’ve been told) were roaring against our house, the entire house was trembling from the force, and the blinds on my windows started to literally fly out (fully closed, and locked windows) while the glass rattled from the pressure as if to implode, we decided to re-think our safety plan. Suddenly the outside wall of what seemed to be the safest, strongest room did not seem safe at all. We headed inward and huddled by flashlight in a more central, smaller room instead, until I could hear the roar and rattle of the wind attacking the house die down. This was when the first eye wall had passed us. When it felt safe, in the center of the eye, we actually ventured outside for a moment. We saw that my son’s basketball goal (which we had laid down and secured, somewhat) had been picked up and thrown, almost as if in a tantrum, onto my son’s car, which was quite a distance. Our outside trashcan had been picked up and thrown, as well, and trash was littered in the lawn. A metal chair on our back patio had also been picked up and thrown into the backyard. That was the worst of it. We restored order, secured the basketball goal again, and the trash bin, and hunkered back down inside before the second eye wall hit. I feel extremely blessed that we did not sustain more damage, and that we are all safe and alive. I have spoken with so many people who in the brunt of the eye wall watched and heard trees crashing into the roof above them, witnessed trees demolishing their house while they helplessly watched, and who were left essentially homeless in the aftermath. When I ventured out the next day, I saw what I can only describe as utter destruction. Complete devastation. Everywhere. No street untouched. Trees across houses, on fences, blocking roads, powerlines down, wrapped around trees, dangling over roads, debris thrown all around. I saw outbuildings displaced in ditches and roads. I saw trampolines and playsets in ditches and streets. I saw cars crushed with buildings and trees. I saw rooves ripped from houses and barns and strewn for miles. Debris was everywhere. Our entire county was without power and internet, and even our cell service was down. We had no way to ask for help or to check on friends and family. Even as I write this, some 9 days later, many near me still are without power, water, and internet. Some were fortunate enough to be able to access a generator to ease the discomfort a bit, but so many have been taken back in time to another era where electricity was not a basic provision. Except many of us were ill-prepared for that, and certainly not accustomed.
As I sit and ponder the aftermath of Hurricane Helene, a few things I absolutely know:
1. The trajectory of our lives has been irrevocably altered.
2. History has just been made.
3. None of us will ever be the same.
4. Whatever happens, we will survive it. There is still kindness in the world, and I saw people give generously of time and resources to help their fellow man. If we band together, we can survive anything. We must, for survival, MUST love our neighbors.
Finally, I would dare say that we have all been a bit traumatized by this experience. Regardless of the amount of damage you sustained, or the degree to which your life was affected, we bear witness to the utter devastation that is all around us. You cannot bear witness and remain unaffected. If you find yourself in the wake of this disaster hypervigilant, tense, anxiously wondering what is coming next, or having dreams about trees crashing in your house, know that those are normal reactions to trauma, and symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. These symptoms can be greatly reduced or even healed through therapy. Helping people find healing from traumatic experiences is kind of my wheelhouse. I would be happy to help you, if you find this happening to you. There are lots of therapists here in our area who would be happy to help. Don’t hesitate, reach out. This is part of the restoration to normalcy that we will all need. We can be okay, and we can find our new normal.
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