Camille Childress

As most incoming high school freshman left their highly emotional state of being in
middle school, I found myself deeper in what seemed like a never ending abyss of emotions.
June 28, 2013 was a day that changed my life and defined who I am today. Never again would
fire truck sirens not make me cringe as an overwhelming feeling of anxiety took over me, or
tears not fill my eyes as I relive the most traumatic day of my life. June 28th, a day formerly
semantic as my best friends birthday, is now associated with the day my oldest brother
overdosed on an opiate pain killer and I found him upstairs with his dad in panic, as we both
over saw our dear love one unconscious-not breathing. In this moment, seconds felt like hours
as I assisted his dad in CPR, called the police, and retrieved the medicine he overdosed on. In
no time, the police arrived and I let them inside .I watched from outside the room praying to the
lord for his survival as they injected him with insulin to attempt to make his heart beat again. The
paranoia and fear with my heart pounding and my legs shaking in those seconds would be
embedded in my heart and memory for the rest of my life. By a miracle of the lord, he took
another breath and I sighed in relief, not aware of the latent effects of this experience.
Proceeding this day, I was diagnosed with mild post-traumatic stress disorder,
depression, and anxiety. The constant state of fear took over my life and my one escape from
any life troubles-cheerleading- started to deteriorate. Cheer was my back bone when I went to
find my courage right after this event happened, I tumbled to try and counterbalance my fear
and to trick the world around me that I had courage, until one day the anxiety won the battle in
my head. As the competitive cheer season approached I was choreographed to perform an elite
skill, a standing back tuck, in the routine. The lights of the gym were abnormally big and bright
that night of practice and I could feel the heat of the lights above beating down on me almost as
much as I could sense all my teammates and coaches staring at me. I felt a drop of sweat leave
my forehead as the music began, my heart started to race. If I could only land this skill, I could
prove to myself I wasnt a coward. The eight counts went on and my hopes of time freezing
before the 37th eight count, where I was accountable for throwing my tuck, disappeared. The 36th
eight count was almost over and I took a deep breath as I set for my skill, and just like that time
did stop and so did my focus-in midair. Next thing I knew I was on the ground for I had landed
on my neck and rolled to my back. The gym gasped and at that point I realized- I failed myself,
the fear had won. That night of practice was only foreshadowing my career in cheer, one
hesitation and one fall lost every skill I ever attained up to that point. I wasnt who I was
anymore, if I couldnt perform the cool tricks on the mat, and my identity was slipping away from
me. My one passion that made me who I was, was gone for what I thought would be forever.
Without the encouragement of my coaches and family, I would have never attempted to
tumble again and three years later I can say Ive never been more thankful. My basic beginner
skills were achievable easily through a week or two, but one still haunted me- and brings me
back to June 28th every time I think of it. After training for a year, New Years Eve 2015 was the
day I had enough courage to do my standing back on the floor by myself- no hesitations-I had
finally proved to myself my mental strength that I was always known for and I felt that I was
myself again.