Illusions
CW: Mentions of Death, Illness, Physical Abuse, Fatality
On the back of the recent wildfires in my area, and having to pack for emergency evacuation, my partner and I took a long, hard look at what really matters to us. It took us 4 full days of constant work to move about 8 miles from our previous residence. We piled box after box in our small living room to the very ceiling. Along the way, we lost some special stuff — like a very large collection of Super Mario Lego sets that represented hundreds of dollars of expenditure over the period of 3 years. The time before that, we lost every CD we ever owned, including some stuff that will never again see the light of day (stuff made by a friend or very underground group from 20 years ago). We have a collection of hundreds of books and about 80 board, card, and tabletop games. These are some of our most cherished possessions. But, as we piled things in a large suitcase to evacuate, we were shocked to realize that there was still A LOT of space left once we grabbed everything we saw as irreplaceable.
Thankfully, we were not evacuated and the fire moved northeast with relatively minimal damage to homes. However, one home that was lost was a family that attended my kids’ school. The house had been in the family for decades, and was planned to remain as such for many more. Unfortunately, the family lost everything (except life, thank goodness). I read an interview with the owner of the house that was written about 2 days after the tragedy. In that time, the family had received over $50,000 in emergency funds from donations. At the time of the article publishing, it was at nearing $75,000. The saying that stuck out to me most was the owner saying that he “had heard similar fire warnings many times before” and that he “didn’t really expect anything to happen.” I was reminded when reading that something my partner had said the day before I read the article: “Safety is just an illusion.” I think we were talking about security systems, but I believe that the whole concept was created from the deeply upsetting concept that crossed our minds when packing for evacuation — that we may lose anything at any time. We may lose everything at any time.
I refuse to believe that most people are sitting around waiting for the worst to happen. Even those of us who have come to know the trauma of life changing in horrible ways (death, abuse, major illness, etc.), we can’t spend every moment terrified of our circumstances changing drastically. After 15 years of not being physically abused, I still get a twinge of worry that it may change, but I’ve been comforted into believing in my safety. Despite having major food aversions and a nearly obsessive concern over food poisoning, I have gotten seriously ill from ingesting a toxin at least twice in the past year. I have about 6 weeks after where I am extremely paranoid, but I tend to lull into complacency again. There is no significant difference between my eating behaviors and socialization options in these weeks, just a lot more anxiety about them. When they end, I am less anxious only. I cannot predict when I will get passed something in a store or from my kids; I don’t know when something hasn’t been properly stored before I ate it. So, if safety is an illusion, then unsafety would also be. Since we know that is not true, I think we should reconsider this and say that safety is a choice. Not a choice whether or not to be safe, because we are biologically compelled to do so, but whether or not to believe that we are safe because we never know if we are or not.
Loss, in its many forms, will always find us. In fact, it is one thing that connects us all: that we have understood loss in some way. Comparing losses on a scale of most extreme to least extreme really depends on the person issuing the scale. For me, loss of innocence is the top of my list. Harm coming to children sends me into a depressive cycle that can be hard to challenge. For someone I love, loss of a loved one is probably at the top of theirs. For my partner, loss of choice is probably occupying a top role. So how could there ever be a true, objective list of what losses and traumas mean more? Taking it a step further, successes are also subjective. I am lucky that I was able to stay in my house completely unscathed, but someone who lived far from that fire could be lucky they didn’t have that worry. But, they could be living in a state with policies contrary to their own beliefs, so I would feel lucky I live where I do, but another person might think they were lucky to live in a country that supports their beliefs… and so on and so forth. I am not at all a toxic positivity person (if you’ve read my work, I’m sure you could tell), but I do think that happiness can be* a choice at times, just like a sense of safety. We won’t ward off tragedy by remaining unhappy, we won’t prepare for disaster by being afraid, we can’t even guarantee that, with all of our precautions, we won’t lose our whole world in a flash. Staying afraid can also be a choice. I try to not let it control my life, but that is my choice.
*note: I say “can be” to leave space for mental illness and disabilities that may influence one’s capacity for choice in this regard. As a sufferer of depression, I know it isn’t always a choice to be happy or not, but I try to choose it when I can.
