I guess I'll start off by telling my story.
A couple of months ago my apartment burned down (still don't have a clear answer on what happened.) I just went to work one day as normal and come home to see my home in ruins. :/
My roommate texted me that afternoon and said that there were firetrucks on our block but he couldn't get close and people were giving him conflicting information. First it was across the street. Then it was on our block. Then it was our building. Then it was our apartment. My roommate texted me after he finally got to our apartment and just simply texted "Our apartment is fucked." But he's a really dramatic person, as I rushed home I thought to myself "Oh well it's just the kitchen." "It probably wasn't that bad."
When I got to the building the red cross didn't want to let me in, when I finally convinced them to let me they told me to take a minute and mentally prepare myself. Even as I stood outside my door, in the flooded hallway reeking of smoke I was still in disbelief. I still thought it'd be mostly okay. When I opened the door I wasn't prepared for what I saw. Everything was black, it was unrecognizable. Everything was destroyed. I remember this one moment so clearly, I was standing in the hallway of my kitchen and I was looking into my bedroom. I stood there for a minute utterly bewildered - I shouldn't have been able to see my bedroom. Then it hit me, the wall that separated the rooms was completely gone. That was my moment of realization - that I'd lost everything. That everything was gone. It's got to be one of the most traumatic moments of my life. I still dream about it sometimes.
It was kind of awkward timing because I had just started a new job. I had to tell them I needed some time to you know...find a home and get my life sorted out. I spent the next week or two arguing with my landlord, finding a new apartment, buying underwear, and trying to act like I had things together.
I got through it all. A lot of people reached out to me, my office crowdsourced money for me which was extremely kind, people were all around wonderful. But it's months later now and I still have nightmares about fires. It's been long enough now that I think people expect me to just be over it, however I still live under the constant stress and anxiety that I could loss everything. I live within 10 minutes of my old apartment and every time I pass it I feel this urge to go home. My new apartment doesn't feel like home and I constantly wish I could go to a home that no longer exists. :/