Some circumstances are nothing but raw sewage, no poetry, no redemption arc, just the utter worst crap rising from where it was meant to be buried. The pipe burst on a Tuesday. Raw wastewater. Backed into her space was everything that every toilet in the building had handled.
Trauma smells like this. But the thing with raw sewage is it's also true. It results from system collapse.
When the load can no longer be carried by infrastructure. When too much gets pushed down without anyone checking whether the pipes can handle it. Her counselor continually questions about her early years. About what she has been working through. She wonders about that basement as well. About how she was repeatedly flushing things down, burying things, saying she was fine fine fine until the system just... gave up.
Raw sewage tells it exactly.
It just rises.