Olivia V.
Photography by Mason Schlopy
If you’re reading this, your past does not define you.
I grew up in a stereotypical, almost movie-written, terrible family situation. Since my memories began, I remember the fighting. I remember breaking up the fighting, being in the middle, and sometimes being the reason for it. The two people that were supposed to teach me love, taught me to believe that violence was a way of showing love. Countless nights I stayed awake listening and hiding under the covers with my stuffed giraffey.
One night, I couldn’t hide anymore and I decided to run across the street to my childhood best friend's house. Tears rolled down my absolutely terrified 8-year-old eyes, I watched from across the street as the red and blue lights flashed in front of my house. I remember every moment so vividly. The couch fabric I was sitting on. Their dogs barking uncontrollably. My wailing at the sight of my beat-up mother and father downplaying the entire incident. This was a huge misunderstanding.
From then on I didn’t understand a lot of things. I didn’t understand why I was told to sleep in random friends' and families' houses because mine wasn’t safe. I didn’t understand why my dad left. I didn’t understand why my swim team parents had told us to go outside and play while they had an intervention with my mom about her drinking and driving. I didn’t understand why I needed to get a job at 14 to help my mom with bills. I didn’t understand why my brother kept overdosing on drugs and alcohol.
But there was one thing I did know and that was that I felt so very alone. I had these intense feelings and had no way of understanding how this could be happening, so I put the blame on myself. It caused me to have many spouts of depression, anxiety, and to have developed post-traumatic stress disorder.
I have these flashbacks, some that are triggered by an interaction, a smell, a fabric, the simplest of things can send me in a spiral. I start remembering, and the remembering turns into thinking, which turns into crying, which starts the uncontrollable breathing and panting. I feel trapped in these moments.
Sometimes it feels like in these moments and thinking back to all the ghosts of my past I will forever be haunted. The thing is though that even if you are haunted, that doesn’t mean you are possessed.
I always thought that there was no way of escaping these memories and that they were always going to have so much power over me. It makes you feel hopeless. It wasn’t until I had started to look at the entire picture, and not just my past, that I was able to gain some control. I sat there and thought about all the things I went through, but I also started to give myself recognition for the things I had done and the person I have grown into despite facing those challenges. I had become an all-state swimmer. I got into college. I learned to like the way I dress. I stopped hurting myself.
From the biggest achievements to the littlest of steps, you deserve to give yourself credit and a pat on the back for everything you have done. Congratulate yourself because doing these things is not easy and it makes you incredibly powerful. That feeling you get when you give yourself back that power is the first step to starting to heal and take back control.
The trauma you faced was not your fault and you couldn’t control it, but you deserve to heal from it and have it affect you less and less every day. You have gained so much strength from making it through your weakest times. Remember that nothing is forever, and time heals. Stay strong and stay proud.
Olivia V., Syracuse University
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