Okay. This. The title of my thread. Santa Claus perched on top of a fire engine with the lights going and the siren blaring for at least an hour. This will be happening in my town on Sunday, as soon as it gets dark.
The idiotic town where I currently live has a thing where they dress someone up as Santa Claus and run him around town, up and down and all around, on a fire engine with lights and sirens blaring! I cannot think of a more stupid thing to do with a fire truck - for one, it conditions people to think that emergency vehicles are not a big deal.
Is that as absurd as I think it is? Well, I don't remember this happening at all last year, certainly don't remember a prolonged panic attack when this took place last year... but it seems I had a majorly bad reaction. Now everyone is panicking ahead of time, about what to do this coming Sunday evening. (Ok "everyone" panicking = my mother panicking... but that is more than enough panic to go around.) So there's a plan afoot, me to be at the movies or an early dinner or something around 6 pm this Sunday. Requiring someone else to go with me. Sigh. This is when I feel tired and guilty. This is what my mother does: She tells me exactly what happened to HER during MY panic attack last year. Apparently, it frightened her terribly. (She does not comprehend, "Look, that's what PTSD IS, it keeps me from remembering crap like that! Don't TELL me about it.")
But now it has been discussed and gone over for two weeks, and it is way past the point where I can say that, past the point of "Let me stay home and see." A movie or an early dinner are the only two options anyone has come up with. I'd rather stay home and try to be ok with it, but the whole thing has been made into such a big deal.... I mean, the township offered not to run down my street, but there are kids several houses down, and I don't want to make them miss this odd variety of "fun". (I've been told I would have loved this when I was a child... I'm not sure.)
I'm tired, is all. Really really tired. Aren't the holidays difficult enough without this kind of extra stuff going on? What if there IS a fire? Etc etc.
The idiotic town where I currently live has a thing where they dress someone up as Santa Claus and run him around town, up and down and all around, on a fire engine with lights and sirens blaring! I cannot think of a more stupid thing to do with a fire truck - for one, it conditions people to think that emergency vehicles are not a big deal.
Is that as absurd as I think it is? Well, I don't remember this happening at all last year, certainly don't remember a prolonged panic attack when this took place last year... but it seems I had a majorly bad reaction. Now everyone is panicking ahead of time, about what to do this coming Sunday evening. (Ok "everyone" panicking = my mother panicking... but that is more than enough panic to go around.) So there's a plan afoot, me to be at the movies or an early dinner or something around 6 pm this Sunday. Requiring someone else to go with me. Sigh. This is when I feel tired and guilty. This is what my mother does: She tells me exactly what happened to HER during MY panic attack last year. Apparently, it frightened her terribly. (She does not comprehend, "Look, that's what PTSD IS, it keeps me from remembering crap like that! Don't TELL me about it.")
But now it has been discussed and gone over for two weeks, and it is way past the point where I can say that, past the point of "Let me stay home and see." A movie or an early dinner are the only two options anyone has come up with. I'd rather stay home and try to be ok with it, but the whole thing has been made into such a big deal.... I mean, the township offered not to run down my street, but there are kids several houses down, and I don't want to make them miss this odd variety of "fun". (I've been told I would have loved this when I was a child... I'm not sure.)
I'm tired, is all. Really really tired. Aren't the holidays difficult enough without this kind of extra stuff going on? What if there IS a fire? Etc etc.