There are still tones of voice that make my body leave the room before I do

Dear Delyara, That happened at work on Monday. A colleague wasn’t even shouting. He just had that clipped, sharp, impatient tone some people use when they are stressed and don’t know they sound dangerous. The minute it started, something in me changed. My shoulders lifted. My answers got smaller. Part of my mind stopped listening to content and started listening only for risk. From the outside, I probably just looked quiet. Inside, I was gone. That is what trauma still does in me. It steals presence before the conscious mind has time to object. It makes some rooms feel older than they are. It drags old weather into the present and asks my body to survive it all over again even when the actual danger is no longer the same. I hate how fast it still happens.