I don't post here often. I don't know why. Because I read the posts and see alot of support. But here in the past few weeks my PTSD symptoms have been really bad. My pdoc said I was having olifactorial hallucinations (idk if I spelled that right but in other words scent flashbacks) and that the stress for my staph infection was flaring them up. Well when I was 6 years old I was in my bedroom and our trailer caught on fire. I ran under my bed and my mom could'nt find me. It was so smokey and hot and I could'nt breathe my eyes burned. Well the neighbor boy busted the outside wall the led to my bedroom and pulled me out. The past few weeks I have smelled the smoke. Not just burning wood smell but burning carpet and curtain smell. I have actually jumped out of bed from a deep sleep to grab my kid and get out. I can feel the heat ans smell the smoke and the fear. Then last night we had to start a fire in our wood furnace because it's cold I was just about to fall asleep when the room looked smokey. I turned on the lights and it still looked hazy and smelled smokey. After running through the house to make sure nothing was on fire, I just crawled back into bed and closed my eyes real tight and went to sleep only to have nightmares. I can't make the fear go away. It's there when I try to sleep. I am afraid that while we are sleeping the house is going to catch fire. It does'nt help that a few years ago our little community lost 4 people (2 kids, their mom and granmother) to a fire. They were all asleep. I go by that place when I go out. And I feel so sad. They were awakened by the fire and tried to get out. The kids and their mom was in the basment where their room was and they could'nt get out. The EMT/firefighter that showed up was the mothers sister nd she could'nt get them out. I hate that. I think about how awful and scary that must have been because I have been through that but I lived. Then about six months after that, my then stepdad was high on heroin again and he tried to set me and my mom on fire. He threw kerosene onm e and threatened to throw his zippo on me. I hate the smell of kerosene. I makes me sick. I hate him for making me this way. I forgiave him along time ago but I still hate him. He was ina real bad car wreck and died three times on the table. I hate my self for thinking this, but sometimes in a bad moment, I wish he would have just died. Then I would'nt be scared of him anymore.Worried that he might find out that I remeber all of the things he done to me and my mom and little sister. I just had to get that out to someone who knows what this feels like. My husband does'nt understand it. No one does. I feel so alone on these days.