The Morning Buzz

I went to coffee with a friend this week, nothing out of the ordinary for me. In fact, very ordinary… I live for a coffee and yap! 

As we walked up to the counter, I spotted it. A coffee on the menu named “The Morning Buzz”. A simple, trivial name really. Pretty usual for a coffee, yet I’d know it if I saw it before. This was the first time. And it looked pretty good too - a cinnamon and honey latte. Definitely something I’d enjoy. 

So why did my stomach sink and my voice get caught in my throat? Why did my eyes well up quickly with tears when my friend ordered it? Why was I fixated on the name of this stupidly delicious drink?!

The Morning Buzz was the name of the Twitter account that a group of students at my high school made about me after finding out that I had “snitched” on students using Juul vape in a bathroom on campus. I guess the name was something to do with hitting a vape and getting a buzz - clearly I don’t vape lol. This one account became my worst nightmare. The day it all went down, the account amassed 700 followers. They made their first post: 

226 people liked it. 46 people reposted it. Every single one of those people became my bullies that day too. Even people I thought were my friends reposted it. People in other states were engaging with it!

It didn’t stop there. Here are some of my favorites from that time that got HUNDREDS of reposts

*I tried to remove names and usernames as to not get flamed 10 years later by these people lol:

This is a story we all know (at least if you’ve been around here for awhile. If not, hi! Read me for some context). Social media became my most feared place on Earth. It was the main reason my life blew up. My phone number and address were leaked, I couldn’t go in public without being recognized, and I had to switch to 5 different high schools across the span of 4 years. We know how it ends…I’m alive aren’t I?

My trauma walked into that coffee shop before I did that cloudy Thursday this week. You’d think at 24, having a master’s degree, living in the most amazing dream city, supporting myself, having many friends and a loving family, and such an incredible fulfilling life that I have moved on. That I don’t think about my past anymore or get triggered by it. Do you know how much I wish that were 100% true?! It is partially true, I don’t think about it as much as I used to. But it’s in my DNA now. It has literally impacted everything in my life down to my cells. It is a large part of who I am as Kaycee. I portray this persona that is impressive, but in reality, I’m still waiting for all of those people to stumble upon my new life and see how well I’m doing. I hyper fixate on what my life looks like on the outside. I don’t want those people to know they rocked me to the core, or that they did, and say “look what she did in spite of it”! Even ten years later I still care what they think subconsciously. I think both realities can be true at the same time. 

The part that rings true to me is that many of my closest friends don’t know what happened to me. I don’t find the need to share it like I once did. I’ve moved on in a lot of ways. As I’m walking down the cobblestone streets to get to this coffee shop, my trauma doesn’t once cross my mind. But that day, that coffee name, it was all a trigger that fired up years of pain. I’m grateful for the pain because it made me who I am, but part of me wishes it never happened. 

We are coming up on the ten year anniversary of the day my life changed forever. I feel like such an imposter even saying that - people have cancer, people lose loved ones, people get into car accidents. And yet, my life changed forever because of something that happened to me in high school? I’ve come to realize that all traumatic experiences regardless of size, magnitude, and severity are ALL valid. 

The truth is, I still have a pit in my stomach when I scroll past photos from January 2017. I keep all those photos as proof that this really did happen to me. My eyes still fill with tears when I talk about the nuances of it all in therapy. My voice still shakes when I share my story on large stages in front of audiences and crowds. 

I wish I could look you in the eyes and say “Morning Buzz, you are nothing more to me than the name of a delicious coffee drink”. But we both know that isn’t true. And that is perfectly okay. 

So next week, when I head back to that coffee shop after work, I’ll get a Morning Buzz drink. Not as an exposure, not in a performative “I’m healed” type of way, but as an ode to the things that still hurt me and probably always will. Cheers to you, Morning Buzz. You are delicious and complex all at the same time!