Carolina Miller is nothing like either her mother or her sister Ginny and Georgia. She's grateful toward her mother knowing very little of what their mother has actually done for them, but she's grieving and trying to move on from a history that lea...
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The next day in school, Hunter was finishing up his essay in front of class. "And that's the place that most defines me. My home with my family and my guitar."
There was slight applause from the students. Hunter went to take his seat.
Gitten cleared his throat, looking at the list on his paper. "Next up, uh, Carolina Miller."
Carolina was very nervous with this essay she wrote since it was pretty revealing though vague and didn't say what she went through, but made it clear that she did go through trauma and she was trying to figure out a way to deal with it on her own. She looked at Ginny, ignoring her because of their fight the night before.
Max gave her a little applause. "You got this, girl."
Carolina managed a slight chuckle, standing, walking to the front of the class, turning around to face the students, reading the paper without looking up because she felt like she couldn't meet their eyes while reading her essay. "When hearing the words trauma, victim or survivor, what do you picture? Do you picture someone who is lost and damaged, broken and unfixable? Or someone filled with anger and aggression and, depression, anxiety, with flashbacks of the worst part of their lives, fear of leaving home or being in crowds, or constantly feeling the need to look behind your back because you feel unsafe?"
Ginny, Max and Hunter were all shocked that she was writing about trauma and actually reading it in front of the class.
Max looked at Ginny, whispering. "Oh, my God. She's really doing this."
Ginny shrugged.
Carolina continued. "Trauma can lead us to miss who we were before the turning point. Mourning the loss of all that we believe is gone forever. The life before a nothing but a lost fantasy. Life during trauma is terrifying. There is no better word to describe what it feels like when your life is, or what you feel like it is, in immediate danger. It's terrifying, debilitating, and so much more. Every person is born with a response of fight, flight, or freeze, and I tend to do all three, fighting to protect oneself and others, defensive to everyone around because the fear of letting someone in is too great, or running away from issues until being unable to anymore, or freezing in fear or defeat. Failure to get past trauma tends to keep the subject haunted by the pain of the past. Unable to speak or get relief of any of it until it is long past. However, it is possible to overcome trauma. A stage that seems far in the distance, too far for my eye to see. Moving on and forgetting the ones left behind feels like a betrayal, of trust, or love, of everything inside. The more is shared, the more it tends to help dull the ache, but it never fades, and everyone trying to tell me the way to take away the pain only serves to make it worse, because telling is not helping. Survivors may continue to suffer, to appear frozen in time. That's where I thought I belonged. As more is changed and more comes my way, I know that I don't want to remain in that place of darkness anymore. I want to find a way to step out into the light. But when one loses someone, or multiple things, to the trauma, it feels impossible to climb out of the hole you found yourself in, unable to get free. When someone was left behind, it feels like a betrayal to climb out of the hole and see the light. How does one climb out? What does life after darkness look like? I don't belong in that hole or in that light, or in the past. I belong in the present. I belong in the light. It's just the matter of figuring out how to get there."
