F.I.N.E

I've been avoiding this ever since the fire. Throughout that whole experience of fleeing our home, and then coming back to what's left of a wildfire is never something you imagine will happen to you. For a long time we were all in shock. We kept being asked how we were doing, and all I could do is shrug my shoulders and say "Fine."
Because we were, right? I mean, we had so much to be grateful for: the love and support of all our family and friends ( thank-you for all the prayers, they helped!), we got to stay with loved ones instead of the evacuation center, our home survived the destruction, and when we were allowed back home the worst damage that we had was a cracked window and some ash in the bathroom. Yet still, no matter how hard I tried and how many times I said it, I did not feel fine.
Both Jason and I have been having survivors guilt-why we were so blessed when so many of our neighbours lost everything? It's still a shock to see the aftermath of the fire. I'll be driving down our street to go home and get disoriented because none of the old landmarks are there. The church and our beloved library are gone. I`ve been trying to keep it together to not panic the kids. I was only `fine`.
As Donald Sutherland says in `The Italian Job`` fine stands for Freaked-out, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional. That was a much better description of how I felt for a long time.
About two weeks ago, I realized this. I wasn`t fine, I was F.I.N.E, and I was sick of it. I couldn`t let this continue, so for a few days I babied myself to work things out. I`d been avoiding the site of the church and library. Now I went and looked at them, for a long time, and yes, I finally let myself cry. My apologies if I`ve been so reclusive lately...I think that I needed some space for a little while.
It`s helped though, because now even though things are far from normal around town, at home they are. I`m laughing more now, and feeling much better. We`re not Fi.N.E. anymore, now we`re all doing okay.