Dealing With Trauma
As a teenager, I had a pretty rough life in most aspects. Not going to go into details. My one escape was music, and yes, I was in the marching band (HA! Nerd!) It gave me a family that I was comfortable with. I had something to do, a commitment after school, a distraction, a passion. Even with all this positivity around me, my life was still constantly upside down. I was resilient and kept pushing through, but I honestly didn't feel like I would make it to my 18th birthday. I guess in my subconsciousness, somewhere deep down, I believed that I could make it, because I did (I'm 21 years old now).
This experience was overall positive, but I still experienced a lot of negativity from my friends and peers. We were teens, of course there will be hair pulling, finger pointing, and fighting over girls/boys. But I didn't ever get why that stuff was so important. Come now, we find out that none of that stuff we did or said when we were 15 actually matters (Yikes lol, too soon?). Anyways. On October 3rd, 2015, my life flipped right side up and then upside down again in the matter of hours.
I woke up that morning pretty early, a Saturday. It was dreary and raining, I was not loving it. I had to drive to a high school in town to take the SAT for my college applications. I was a senior, excited to get the hell out and go off to university, and with this SAT of course I was dreading it (it's... an exam, you guys), but I was finally seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. A tunnel into a new beginning where I could control my own life. I was finally a drum major, something I had been working really hard for, and it was also my first marching band competition as a leader in that position. It was going to be a great day.
It was still raining when I got out of the SAT, my friend had come to the high school to give me a hug and wish me good luck on the competition because he couldn't make the drive to the north end of the county where the show was. So much positivity and excitement was pumping through my veins. I drove home to put on my uniform and makeup. My house was actually only 3 miles away from North Iredell High School, where the competition was, so I was super close to the competition site. At least it wouldn't be hell driving myself there because it was super close. The rest of the band had rehearsal that morning and ridden to North Iredell on the activity busses with all of our equipment.
As soon as I stepped out onto my driveway to get into my car, to drive to North Iredell, I heard sirens come from the right side of my house. Two firetrucks and an EMT car sped by towards the other main road in the area. Just by the way, I lived in yee haw countryside. Nothing ever happening in our area. Our "main roads" were two-lane country roads that had a suggested speed limit of 55mph, we had one gas station, and one convenience store. Thats it. The most exciting that happened in recent years was a house fire down the road when someone left their stovetop burner on. I remember thinking to myself, "that's super weird, nothing ever happens around here." I got into my car and followed them. I followed them right into the parking lot of North Iredell High School.
I remember pulling in, it was still raining, there were flashes of blue and red, and one of my friends from North Iredell was directing traffic. I rolled down my window and asked, "What happened?" He just shook his head with a straight face and waved me into a parking spot.
I jumped out of my car and ran up the hill to where the emergency responders were.
Blood was running down the pavement, washed by the rainfall, concrete crumbled, people were yelling. Complete chaos. I couldn't move. Someone pulled my arm and lead me to the cafeteria, which was a few buildings over from the accident site. I snapped out of it and took in the crowd herded into this room. People were handing out food, water, some of us were crying, screaming, calling parents, in a confused daze. The next few hours consisted of me running around checking on everyone, trying to make any situation better. I didn't know how effective that was in all actuality, but we were all in shock, what more could I do? I realized that the injured had been taken to hospitals, and we all wanted to know just one thing. Are they all alive? As soon as I felt that most people were in a decent spot, I jumped in my car and drove to the nearest hospital.
My mom was a nurse, so I knew all about HIPAA. I had to find a way to get around it. That did not work well at the first local hospital. I drove to the other one and somehow got in with a parent. I found out that everyone in that hospital was alive, but that was only a handful of people out of everyone that was hospitalized. A few were taken to the nearest big cities because their injuries were severe. That, I did not have any control over finding information about. We had to play the waiting game.
Read one story about the accident here
That night, the band had made a massive group chat on Facebook to give each other support. We decided to start a GoFundMe and blow it up over social media. It was rough. By some miracle, though, with bits and pieces of information and rumors, we found out by the end of the weekend that everyone was alive and stable.
Senior year was weird.
I never cried about this. I didn't really talk to anyone about it. For some reason, I felt the need to stay strong, as a shoulder to lean on for everyone else. Also my personality just doesn't enable me to cry a lot. I bottled it up for years.
Last summer in 2018, I felt that I had some problems in my life that I needed to sort out. It was a huge combination of things. I went to ... *gasp* ... therapy??!!?
I had session after session, trying to figure out where my problems stem from. We figured out a lot of things, but one day through our conversation, my therapist sparked a memory made me remember the accident.
I had shoved that day, and the time after the accident deep down into the back of my brain. I didn't want to remember it. It had brought so much chaos into my life, and experiences that I didn't understand. Immediately after the accident, I remember that I didn't want to bring attention to myself at all because I felt that I had absolutely no room to talk since I wasn't physically injured. I didn't want to play victim. I wanted to make sure that everyone else was okay. But thoughts rolled in at night. I couldn't sleep. I had anxiety attacks when I was alone. I never told anyone, even my mom, whom I am really close to. My feelings didn't feel valid.
"What if I was under there? What would have happened? I'm naturally really observant. What if I had noticed the truck was getting too close? Could I have said something to stop it? Could less people be hurt?"
I didn't realize how much this was affecting me, even a long time after the event. I started crying in this dude's office about how fucking afraid I was on that day. How I ignored the feelings and flashbacks and essentially didn't want to remember. But I had to remember so I could heal.
Four years later, I am a new person, obviously through other experiences and life changes. But in the essence of my trauma, I've learned how to cope with the events of that day and what followed. I learned that it's okay to cry and even though nothing physical happening to me, my feelings are valid and no one should be allowed to tell me differently.
This was a freak accident. Something that comes straight out of a movie, but one of those horror films that no one would want to be a part of. I don't know how to describe that day very well except that time moved swiftly, quickly, and I remember nearly every detail and interaction. It's a memory that will probably never go away, but it has pushed me to becoming a more loving and accepting person.
It has shown me that anything can happen in life, and events like these are unforeseen and unfair. We never can completely understand, but we can cope with community and family. Not only was October 3rd, 2015 a turning point in my life, but so was the day I started healing, last summer. Last summer, especially, I began to love harder than any other point in my life. I tried to appreciate every moment in my day. Every person. Give them all the positive energy I can. Wake up with a smile, even though I know it could be a shitty day. Because you never know when someone's life will be taken away from this Earth. You don't know when that will be the last phone call, last hug, last moment of eye contact.
So tell all of the people in your life that you love them, often.
Love harder, because those good moments are what keeps us going. Say yes to love and don't be afraid to be positive. Because even out of a shit-show like on that traumatizing day, positivity can ensue.
This experience was overall positive, but I still experienced a lot of negativity from my friends and peers. We were teens, of course there will be hair pulling, finger pointing, and fighting over girls/boys. But I didn't ever get why that stuff was so important. Come now, we find out that none of that stuff we did or said when we were 15 actually matters (Yikes lol, too soon?). Anyways. On October 3rd, 2015, my life flipped right side up and then upside down again in the matter of hours.
I woke up that morning pretty early, a Saturday. It was dreary and raining, I was not loving it. I had to drive to a high school in town to take the SAT for my college applications. I was a senior, excited to get the hell out and go off to university, and with this SAT of course I was dreading it (it's... an exam, you guys), but I was finally seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. A tunnel into a new beginning where I could control my own life. I was finally a drum major, something I had been working really hard for, and it was also my first marching band competition as a leader in that position. It was going to be a great day.
It was still raining when I got out of the SAT, my friend had come to the high school to give me a hug and wish me good luck on the competition because he couldn't make the drive to the north end of the county where the show was. So much positivity and excitement was pumping through my veins. I drove home to put on my uniform and makeup. My house was actually only 3 miles away from North Iredell High School, where the competition was, so I was super close to the competition site. At least it wouldn't be hell driving myself there because it was super close. The rest of the band had rehearsal that morning and ridden to North Iredell on the activity busses with all of our equipment.
As soon as I stepped out onto my driveway to get into my car, to drive to North Iredell, I heard sirens come from the right side of my house. Two firetrucks and an EMT car sped by towards the other main road in the area. Just by the way, I lived in yee haw countryside. Nothing ever happening in our area. Our "main roads" were two-lane country roads that had a suggested speed limit of 55mph, we had one gas station, and one convenience store. Thats it. The most exciting that happened in recent years was a house fire down the road when someone left their stovetop burner on. I remember thinking to myself, "that's super weird, nothing ever happens around here." I got into my car and followed them. I followed them right into the parking lot of North Iredell High School.
I remember pulling in, it was still raining, there were flashes of blue and red, and one of my friends from North Iredell was directing traffic. I rolled down my window and asked, "What happened?" He just shook his head with a straight face and waved me into a parking spot.
I jumped out of my car and ran up the hill to where the emergency responders were.
Blood was running down the pavement, washed by the rainfall, concrete crumbled, people were yelling. Complete chaos. I couldn't move. Someone pulled my arm and lead me to the cafeteria, which was a few buildings over from the accident site. I snapped out of it and took in the crowd herded into this room. People were handing out food, water, some of us were crying, screaming, calling parents, in a confused daze. The next few hours consisted of me running around checking on everyone, trying to make any situation better. I didn't know how effective that was in all actuality, but we were all in shock, what more could I do? I realized that the injured had been taken to hospitals, and we all wanted to know just one thing. Are they all alive? As soon as I felt that most people were in a decent spot, I jumped in my car and drove to the nearest hospital.
My mom was a nurse, so I knew all about HIPAA. I had to find a way to get around it. That did not work well at the first local hospital. I drove to the other one and somehow got in with a parent. I found out that everyone in that hospital was alive, but that was only a handful of people out of everyone that was hospitalized. A few were taken to the nearest big cities because their injuries were severe. That, I did not have any control over finding information about. We had to play the waiting game.
Read one story about the accident here
That night, the band had made a massive group chat on Facebook to give each other support. We decided to start a GoFundMe and blow it up over social media. It was rough. By some miracle, though, with bits and pieces of information and rumors, we found out by the end of the weekend that everyone was alive and stable.
Senior year was weird.
I never cried about this. I didn't really talk to anyone about it. For some reason, I felt the need to stay strong, as a shoulder to lean on for everyone else. Also my personality just doesn't enable me to cry a lot. I bottled it up for years.
Last summer in 2018, I felt that I had some problems in my life that I needed to sort out. It was a huge combination of things. I went to ... *gasp* ... therapy??!!?
I had session after session, trying to figure out where my problems stem from. We figured out a lot of things, but one day through our conversation, my therapist sparked a memory made me remember the accident.
I had shoved that day, and the time after the accident deep down into the back of my brain. I didn't want to remember it. It had brought so much chaos into my life, and experiences that I didn't understand. Immediately after the accident, I remember that I didn't want to bring attention to myself at all because I felt that I had absolutely no room to talk since I wasn't physically injured. I didn't want to play victim. I wanted to make sure that everyone else was okay. But thoughts rolled in at night. I couldn't sleep. I had anxiety attacks when I was alone. I never told anyone, even my mom, whom I am really close to. My feelings didn't feel valid.
"What if I was under there? What would have happened? I'm naturally really observant. What if I had noticed the truck was getting too close? Could I have said something to stop it? Could less people be hurt?"
I didn't realize how much this was affecting me, even a long time after the event. I started crying in this dude's office about how fucking afraid I was on that day. How I ignored the feelings and flashbacks and essentially didn't want to remember. But I had to remember so I could heal.
Four years later, I am a new person, obviously through other experiences and life changes. But in the essence of my trauma, I've learned how to cope with the events of that day and what followed. I learned that it's okay to cry and even though nothing physical happening to me, my feelings are valid and no one should be allowed to tell me differently.
This was a freak accident. Something that comes straight out of a movie, but one of those horror films that no one would want to be a part of. I don't know how to describe that day very well except that time moved swiftly, quickly, and I remember nearly every detail and interaction. It's a memory that will probably never go away, but it has pushed me to becoming a more loving and accepting person.
It has shown me that anything can happen in life, and events like these are unforeseen and unfair. We never can completely understand, but we can cope with community and family. Not only was October 3rd, 2015 a turning point in my life, but so was the day I started healing, last summer. Last summer, especially, I began to love harder than any other point in my life. I tried to appreciate every moment in my day. Every person. Give them all the positive energy I can. Wake up with a smile, even though I know it could be a shitty day. Because you never know when someone's life will be taken away from this Earth. You don't know when that will be the last phone call, last hug, last moment of eye contact.
So tell all of the people in your life that you love them, often.
Love harder, because those good moments are what keeps us going. Say yes to love and don't be afraid to be positive. Because even out of a shit-show like on that traumatizing day, positivity can ensue.
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