Trauma to Art (T2A) Mission: To create a positive, action-oriented community for victims of trauma and to provide an outlet for expression.
T2A Goals: To host an exhibit of T2A works of expression to raise funding for T2A groups all over the country.
Inspiration: When my mom died time just rolled on. In subtle ways things started to change until I sunk into a scary, hopeless depression. I can pinpoint my slow spiral to a year after my mother passed away. At the time my boyfriend Jesse and I had been living together for two years. Being 22 and playing house is not advisable. It provide me with a protective cocoon. My status of depression was not questioned. It was accepted as par for the ‘getting over trauma’ course.
I was determined to function like nothing was wrong. I refused to acknowledge that I was depressed and therefore made it impossible to heal. I compartmentalized it with therapy. I found a grief counselor as a way of giving my turmoil a recess. I enrolled in graduate school to keep my mind off of my abysmal outlook on life. I looked for little bandages to quell my gushing wound like asking my boyfriend to push me out of the house so I would be more active.
My depression was probably obvious to others. When people would tell me stories about their ambition or their thoughts on life I would sit there and think ‘what’s the point?’ Needless to say reading the Unbearable Lightness of Being did not help my state of mind. It confirmed my theory that life may as well never happened have happened at all. I wasn’t slitting my wrists but I just didn’t see the point and I needed an outlet.
I woke up from my depression three years after my mom passed away. I broke up with Jesse, packed up my things and left immediately. I left my unbelievably comfortable life with all of this positive energy. When I was depressed I lived in the scary, unknown future. In the aftermath of my depression I lived like it was my last day on earth. I oozed the effervescence of someone who knew the secret to living a fulfilling life. This energy attracted everyone to me. It was an overwhelming opportunity that I managed to squander within six months. Eventually I became reckless. I was careless with other people’s feelings. I offered little apology for my indiscretions and I played the dead mom card to wiggle my way out of judgment, blame, and responsibility.
I walked away more or less unscathed and about 5 years older. The mere thought that anyone else would endure this type journey is heartbreaking. Throughout my experience I looked for books and groups but there was nothing that fit what I needed. I wanted positive. Action. Community. In the past nine months my life has calmed. I started mamaquest as my outlet for artistic expression. The joy I get from this outlet and the support I’ve received from friends has been heartwarming and VERY powerful. It’s surprising what can be accomplished when you have people supporting you. As a result I am starting a movement called Trauma to Art (T2A). Ideally, I will find funding but I will work on my project either way. The first step is collecting art such as poems, essays, paintings, songs, documentaries, etc. from you! I’d like to eventually showcase these pieces offline and raise money to start an action plan for T2A groups everywhere. I’m looking for entries now.