‘Catastrophic’

*Content/trigger warning*

My therapist recently described Allen’s suicide as a “catastrophic trauma.” She asked me if I agreed with the description and after I scoffed, I quickly confirmed.

It seemed like an understatement.

But the longer I spend tossing that phrase around in my head, I’m not sure there is a better way to describe it. As a word person, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about that descriptor since that session. Catastrophic. 

So I turned to the dictionary.

Merriam-Webster defines a catastrophe as “a sudden violent event that brings about great loss or destruction.” Synonyms include apocalypse, disaster, and upheaval. 

Catastrophic is defined as “bringing about ruin or misfortune.”

In recent years the Indiana legislature added “catastrophic injury” to the state’s criminal code. It is defined by “bodily injury so severe that a person’s ability to live independently is significantly impaired for a period of at least one year.” I’ve seen that law be used in court and can agree with that definition and how the actions of others can cause irreparable damage in the survivor’s life.

Indeed, a lot about surviving trauma involves navigating upheaval and rebuilding after destruction. But I’ve learned there is more to it than that.

In the past 22 months I’ve learned that the barren ground left behind an apocalypse will eventually sow wildflowers. The universe has a way of leveling the earth and providing you with a fertile foundation to rebuild, if you allow it to happen, if you are open to seeing a little light in all the darkness that will eventually grow bright enough to serve as your beacon for a better tomorrow.

Resiliency in the face of catastrophe isn’t a learned skill; it’s an earned badge. Wear it proudly. Because oftentimes, you survey your options and moving forward, step by step, seems like the only real choice you really have. And perhaps, the further you move forward, the more you can look back to see how the catastrophe created a clean slate. While your landscape won’t look the same as before, you get to cultivate your own future full of beautiful wildflowers in varieties you’ve never seen before. It’s a future not defined by past catastrophes.

And one day, all you’ll notice is the gorgeous bouquet you painstakingly plucked stem by stem. 

Published by Jessica Williams Bricker

I'm a boy mom and a storyteller. I graduated from Indiana University in 2013 with a journalism degree with minors in history and political science.