by KARA ALLEN, CSU Public Relations Assistant
This week, I enlisted the help of someone I love to give me a perspective on her trauma and what she has gone through; and how she copes with it all. More importantly, she gave me insight on what other people assume of her and what they see from her exterior that they take as truth. We give you “What you see me as”.
*I was given the opportunity to use this story, but this is not my own experience.
They used to call me reckless and full of energy. They used to call me the life of the party. They used to run into my room at 7pm on a Friday night and turn on music to get ready. I loved to get on the tables and dance around with my best friends. I loved to be the girl that helped the person who had drank one too many. I loved to pretend that I felt as happy when sober as I did while drunk. The next morning I showered and gulped water down with my aspirin. The next morning I wiped off the remnants of my mascara and replaced it with the new. The next morning I look at all of the texts I had sent in a state of loneliness the night before. I smile and walk to class the next day as I update my friends on last night’s shenanigans. I smile on the phone when my mother calls and asks if I am doing alright. I smile and say “I’m okay” as my sister tells me that I should maybe seek help. I don’t have an addiction, but I only look forward to 5pm when I can drink after work hours. I don’t have an addiction, but I don’t enjoy my own company when I am sober. I don’t have an addiction...right? Maybe it was the consecutive nights I was told that “time will heal” all my pain. Bullshit. Maybe it was the companionship I found in a refill of my favorite cocktail. Maybe it was the ability to get the image of trauma out of my head. A phone call at 5am saying “Come quick. There’s not much time.” A gasp for air and a give of my knees as I fell to the ground. A lifeless body that I loved that I had to process in front of me. So when you look at me and you see a drunken girl, You’re seeing my addiction. You’re seeing my coping mechanism. You’re seeing my hurt. You’re seeing my inability to open up. Because you don’t see me as hurt. Or as me having a coping mechanism. Or as a struggling addict. You see me as just a drunken girl.
Kara Allen is a CSU Public Relations Assistant and is currently a Senior studying Communications at Minnesota State Mankato. Kara is from Grand Rapids, MN and has grown up loving to write in her free time; finding the hidden idiosyncrasies within herself through the writing. She plans on pursuing a career in Public Relations for the U.S. Army and continuing on with writing for enjoyment.