‘To Suffer Through Trauma Alone Is Unbearable’

IN A PERENNIALLY timely 2014 article about the lessons she learned from her experience with trauma, Catherine Woodiwiss wrote, “Trauma is a disfiguring, lonely time even when surrounded in love; to suffer through trauma alone is unbearable.” We need people around us when we’re suffering, if only to know that they’re there to call on when we need something.

When my trauma and anxiety journey started in 2016, I quickly learned that putting up a front of “Everything’s fine!” only made things worse. It was humbling to admit I needed support. It was empowering to realize people wanted to help. I knew that someday, when I felt better (and I would feel better), I would return the favor.

The film Sorry, Baby, from writer-director Eva Victor, is the most accurate depiction I’ve seen of how trauma stays in your mind and body and what it takes to reach a place of stability. After Victor’s character, Agnes, experiences sexual assault, she relies on the help of close friends and a neighbor, and a stranger’s kindness, to help her through the three-year period that follows.

Agnes’ strongest ally in the immediate aftermath of her assault is her roommate Lydie (Naomi Ackie), who takes her to a doctor and helps Agnes start the reporting process. Lydie is a constant, fierce, and funny presence, remaining close with Agnes even after moving away. Agnes’ sweet, smitten neighbor Gavin (Lucas Hedges) represents Agnes’ growth as she gains the confidence to maybe turn their situationship into something more. To his great credit, Gavin never rushes her, seeming to know Agnes needs to take time.

During a panic attack, Agnes is comforted by a stranger who offers her a kindness of biblical proportions. Driving home, a hyperventilating Agnes pulls into a parking lot and meets Pete (John Carroll Lynch), a gruff-but-kind deli owner who embodies both the parable of the good Samaritan and Matthew 25:35, “For I was hungry, and you fed me.” Pete helps Agnes calm down, offers her a really good sandwich, and encourages her to be easier on herself. Pete’s generosity has a lasting effect; when Lydie visits Agnes later on, they’re eating Pete’s sandwiches together.

Agnes learns a painful lesson about injustice in Sorry, Baby, but she also learns she’s not alone. The movie doesn’t neatly tie up Agnes’ experience—to do so would be dishonest—but we can see how she’s grown, celebrate her small victories, and witness how she passes on the kindness she’s experienced to others. Recovering from trauma isn’t linear, and it’s never finished. But when we lean on each other, the road is a little easier.