Baby, you’re a firework: Explosive and dangerous, especially around alcohol

Trauma survivors and their families beg you to consider them before setting off fireworks.

My ex secretly hated fireworks.

In the weeks leading up to the Fourth of July, we’d hear them sporadically throughout the neighborhood despite their illegality within city limits. Verbally, he defended them with all the patriotic chest-puffing you’d expect from a veteran-turned-cop, saying he’d fought for people’s right to shoot them off or whatever.

He’d even accuse those who admitted to being sensitive to those jarring sounds, many of them veterans like himself, of being “soft”. Then he, being the tough man that he was, would proceed to aggressively drink himself into oblivion. Whether this would lead to a tear-filled reenactment of a past war experience or a belligerent act of abuse against me depended on the night.

The prevalence of alcohol abuse among veterans is a well-documented concern. The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) reports that nearly one in ten veterans struggle with alcohol use disorder. The challenges veterans face during holidays or events involving fireworks can exacerbate their alcohol abuse tendencies.

This can have dangerous consequences, especially for those also suffering from anger issues, abusive tendencies, depression, or any of the other comorbid mental health afflictions regularly plaguing trauma survivors. Loved ones caught in the middle when flashbacks occur also find themselves in danger.

Raise a glass to freedom

One Fourth of July, we’d been drinking at a nearby bar at his request. I was still in denial about the extent of his PTSD (a diagnosis he remained in denial of for the duration of our time together), believing I could convince him to make healthier decisions around drinking. Denial is a common survival tactic when faced with the challenges of a loved one’s mental health condition, especially when it is accompanied by harmful behaviors such as domestic abuse or excessive drinking. It can be difficult to accept the reality of the situation and to acknowledge the profound impact PTSD has on an individual’s life.

In my misguided belief that I could convince him to change his drinking habits, I inadvertently contributed to the perpetuation of this harmful cycle. It’s important to understand as much as we may care for someone, we cannot single-handedly address the complex issues associated with their mental health and harmful behaviors.

That day, I’d been doing my best to keep him in a happy/tipsy mood, hoping the sounds of the bar would dampen the fireworks when they began. This seemed like a good idea until his level of intoxication dipped into the unintelligible.

Sensory overload

Worried about what would happen if he had a flashback in public (as had happened in the past with disastrous consequences), I convinced him to come home with me to watch a loud and happy movie. Upon arriving home, however, we realized we could perfectly see the fireworks show from a nearby park from our driveway. He insisted he wanted to watch the display, so I went to work setting up chairs while he offered to grab us a couple of beers from inside.

A study conducted by the National Center for PTSD found that exposure to fireworks can activate traumatic memories and sensory triggers in veterans with PTSD, resulting in significant distress and psychological symptoms. Loud noises, bright lights, and explosions associated with fireworks can evoke sensations reminiscent of combat experiences, potentially leading to flashbacks and a re-experiencing of past traumas. This heightened arousal and emotional distress may drive individuals to turn to alcohol as a way to numb their symptoms and temporarily escape the overwhelming sensations.

After watching the fireworks display alone for a few minutes and realizing it was taking him a while to join, I stood to go inside and check on him. Just before I opened the door, however, something tickled the back of my neck and told me to call him instead. I was only a few steps away from the front door but decided to go back to my chair for my phone.

Hairpin triggered

I still don’t know what instinct caused me to do that, but it almost definitely saved my life that day. When he answered, I realized he was completely gone, lost to the past.

A childlike voice answered the phone. I gently asked if he was planning on coming outside, and his tone sounded afraid when he said no. He was having a flashback, too far gone to have distinguished me from an enemy.

Fortunately, when I asked if it was ok for me to come inside, he said it was, although it was clear he was responding to my calm voice, and not out of recognition.

Nervously, I opened the front door, concern blooming in my stomach when my beloved dog didn’t greet me at the door as she usually did. I called his name before entering, again instinctively saving my life. His voice in the kitchen told me to come in, but when I rounded the corner, I was in the sights of his AR-15.

He was lying supine on the kitchen floor, gun trained at the doorway where I stood. Tears streamed down his face, haunted eyes looked like a scared animal. He had my dog by the collar, preventing her from coming to me. Each blast from the display outside caused us both to flinch. I was a complete stranger to him.

By this point in our relationship, it was the second or third time I’d talked him out of shooting me in the face.

Explosive personality

In his mind, he was back overseas on the day he had to shoot a young boy who was allegedly reporting on the troops' position to the enemy. When he spoke of it he always described it as something he had to do, but he was haunted by an inability to get closure on whether or not the kid actually was putting his unit in danger, or if it was just a kid with a radio goofing around, playing soldier.

After I managed to talk him down that night, we decided to watch a loud movie to drown out the sound of the blasts. In light of what had happened, I tried to get him to stop drinking, but he said he just wanted to relax and drink until he fell asleep.

It seemed like that was the end of that until he tried to stand up and go to bed after the movie. He was still completely wasted and walked directly into my glass coffee table, falling on top of and completely shattering it. He sat in the debris for a minute, looking confused, unaware of what he’d done.

The combination of fireworks and alcohol can create a dangerous cycle for individuals with trauma histories. Alcohol acts as a depressant on the central nervous system, intensifying the effects of PTSD symptoms and making individuals more vulnerable to triggers. The loud noises and sudden bursts of fireworks can amplify feelings of anxiety and hypervigilance, which, when combined with alcohol-induced impairment, can increase the risk of aggression, self-harm, or accidents.

By acknowledging research that supports the connection between fireworks, trauma, and substance abuse, we can promote awareness, compassion, and informed decision-making regarding the use of fireworks. Creating inclusive and trauma-sensitive environments can prevent the retraumatization of individuals and reduce the likelihood of alcohol abuse as a coping mechanism. It is essential to prioritize the well-being of individuals who have experienced trauma, supporting them in their recovery and ensuring that our celebrations do not unintentionally cause harm to those we are meant to be lauding.

It is also crucial for individuals experiencing PTSD symptoms to seek professional help and support. Failing to address and manage symptoms not only has detrimental effects on the individual but also on their loved ones. By actively addressing PTSD symptoms, individuals not only improve their own quality of life but also create a safer and more nurturing space for their loved ones. The decision to seek help is a powerful choice that can break the cycle of suffering, paving the way for healing and growth.