I realise media-representation of people who have undergone trauma tend to fall under two categories--1) The hero who overcomes and becomes something more; 2) The villain who succumbs to his/her demons.
Sure. You might argue that it is only a movie and that surely people would be more mature than that. The thing is, the whole point of a trauma is that people are emotionally vulnerable. It'd be quite interesting if there were support groups for every single kind of trauma in the world. But then trauma-types vary from incident to incident, and so the support groups never provide a good fit.
In any case, you can expect that these people would still yearn for fellow empathisers. Yet, there is often none. That is typically good because no one should ever wish for pain to be more commonplace. That's how you turn toward 2).
The point, though, is that the only kind of "role model" that many of these people ever find would be through media representation. Yet, the media often expects them to become heroes (or villains). The truth, though, is that what many of these people need to achieve is a sense of anonymity. They need to appropriately suppress their demons and appear "normal". It is difficult when the media demands for them to become heroes.
They will be! In that they have fought and survived. But it is often nothing close to getting cheers and public adulation. It is all an internal, thankless fight. Perhaps sometimes perpetually ongoing, to no end.
Still, you can be a hero--if you scale down the pomp and pageantry attached to that concept. You see, others who get into similar trauma will look for role models. That is where you have to earn the right to be their hero. Fight to become that role model you wished you could have found. That is the best you can do to vindicate yourself of what happened.
Something occurred to me... You know how they say pain warns us of danger? That's really the second step, and it's an extrapolation from its primary function. We often feel pain after the incident--after we cut our finger; we graze our knee; we burn ourselves. Pain therefore cannot a warning. Rather, it is a reminder. It is from here that we extrapolate forward and then consider it to provide a warning about future potential pain. I guess then it makes a bit more sense for me now...
I will try. Mask up again. Pretend that I know who I am. Not show weakness. Not show cracks. Not show emotion. I will try to keep everyone just distant enough. I don't want to hurt anyone else anymore. I can take it. I will try. As long as I can leave them alone and stop hurting my friends.
I must admit I often struggle with this concept of "change". Building from principles of mechanics, it is only when there is change that work is done. In itself, I suppose then that change is amoral. It is neither good nor bad--that is all up to each individual's perception. Yet, it is such a useful political tool as well. It frustrates me that something so innocent can become dressed up in such shades of colour. The fear of change is almost as readily sold as is the prospect of progress. Causing change allows you to place your name on things. It is how we make our mark upon this world. And yet, when is change pursued as an ideal and when is it a general by-product simply of our being? It's like saying we like money but really, we like what money can do for us. It is a subtle shift in perspective, but perhaps one that is really really important. And so, change is often seen as good. It represents taking control of your circumstances and breaking out of the mould. It is heroic, charming. Yet, on the other hand, we also see instances whereby change is portrayed as something to fear. In our built-up environment, we spend money and resources trying to maintain this living space that we have. We spend effort trying to stake claim over property or ideas. We try to exert control over a changing world, to try to retain things in an unchanging state. It becomes very damaging when such sentiments become applied to the friendships we make or the people we hold dear. We set up enclosed spaces and seem to enjoy controlling every aspect of our lived environment--light levels, temperature, scents, what we hear, etc. We build up malls and export pieces of culture everywhere around the world so that we are never really truly alienated from what is familiar to us. We romanticise exoticism as though difference is something very rare. Yet, perhaps it is something very rare. But that would only be because we have spent so much effort trying to make it so. When we look at nature, however, we see that change is key. It allows for responses to environmental fluctuations and hence some degree of adaptation. Change is not the aim; it is the consequence. Often, feedback systems actually try to retain some form of uniformity in the system. Yet, it is the constant pattern of renewal--of breaking down and rebuilding--which allows for systems to remain robust. It is interesting that recent shifts in architecture have started looking toward such models of sustainability. It is no longer about structures that stand in stark contrast to a changing environment but one that flows together with it. On an individual level, how then should we deal with change? As we move through life, there is much we receive and much we have to let go. How does Facebook and other such social media stave off the loss of friends? Perhaps more importantly, how important is the letting go? How important is it to embrace change? Where is the line that distinguishes a fatal attraction and a reasonable preparation for it? I suppose then change happens. The best way is to let it happen and not to trigger or to fight against it. Ironic then, this post. Hmm.
