It All Comes Back
By: Caden McDonald
With surviving trauma, there are many aspects to healing and coping--such as dissociation, flashbacks, or triggers. This poem discusses how trauma can sometimes manifest itself within our daily lives, and how--even when we feel like it's over--it can come back. But even when it comes back, there's always someone (or something) to ground us and remind us that we are safe and strong.
Just years later, you're walking down an unknown street and nothing's on your mind, not a single thing. The breeze pushes your hair back and chills your suddenly warm cheeks
when a stranger passes you. He gets a little too close for comfort, and you can smell the whiskey on his breath. The blood in your legs become icy when he slows his pace, drawing nearer to
you, and the look in his eyes puts a spring in your step, one that you realize hadn't been there before. Nothing else matters. Get away, you
think frantically. Run. Go into (another) stranger's house until this ends. You feel yourself breaking down, slowly but surely, into a shaking mess on the warm afternoon sidewalk. You sit. Breathe. Soon, your breathing becomes normal again, and the Sun has gone. How long have you been sitting here?
It's cold now. The children come outside and the man is long gone, walked to wherever he was meant (or not meant) to be. And you're on the sidewalk. Alone. Why can't you stand? What's done is done. Time will pass. Seasons will change and so will you. But will it ever be
over? You stand up, dust your shorts off, and walk, as slowly and normally as possible, straight home. A man’s mere presence was enough to make you tremble. He did nothing wrong to you, but his smell and his existence took you back to when the Bad Man made you feel small and inferior. It is hard for the world to gain your trust back, of course, but you’re trying. You will see people as people and come to understand that even though He hurt you, the world is still beautiful, and people are here for you. Keep going, love--you’re almost there. One step at a time. The wind blows a little faster and a flower falls into your hair, and suddenly,
everything seems to come alive. You feel the beat of the universe, become a part of it. Your fingers tap the rhythm of the croaking toads on your goose-bump ridden legs, your eyes blink with the pace of your footsteps, crunching the leaves and gravel into the concrete, and slowly, you become whole again; finding a place to be whole outside of yourself. Then, into your eyes
comes the light from your little house, and the smell of your father's sweet cigars floats into your nose from the open window in the den. You breathe and take shaky steps up the walk and put your hand on the golden doorknob. You twist, and take the steps inside your yellow house, into the arms of the amazing woman that loves you. She squeezes you tightly, then lets go and her eyes light up: I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE
BACK! I MADE COOKIES! This woman, this wonderful woman will always love you. Your father, your best friends, your pets, your brothers and sisters love you. Let them love you. Let the magic of the universe soak back into your heart until you are overflowing with dazzling gold. You may not feel like you deserve it but believe me: you are worth more than anyone could ever put into words. You have more than enough strength to survive. And remember: you are not alone. You have the world on your side, save for a few people--and they don’t know what they’re missing.
Just when you think it's over, everything comes back.
