I looked up the meaning of shock (not medically) and it interprets to emotional response to trauma or negative occurrence. This is how I mostly wake up every day. I wake up trying to anticipate a great day, but suddenly, I'm reminded of the past two months, how I held my only sibling in my hands, healthy one minute, and how he wasn't again in just a twinkling of an eye, and he was no longer breathing.
I remembered towing him to the hospital bed, with the help of my aunt and other well-wishers.
It was cold, rainy and in the middle of the night, I had just celebrated my birthday early in the day, grateful to have crossed the three-decade mark, a life of goodness, despite every hurdle I've had to scale in the past three months. The sense of victory and appreciation I felt during the day was replaced by sadness, tears, and dread. It felt like a dark dream, one which I should wake from, but it lingered and that was how I realized everything was real after all.
I still remember the doctor's face, the forlorn indifference in his gait. The smell of the muddy water outside the hospital, the burst of fear and anxiety in my spirit.
That wasn't supposed to be the script
.....and even if it's been over 5 weeks already, it still feels and looks like a movie in front of me being played by a VR every night, keeping the wound fresh and hemorrhaging. The complicated way I feel is why I go numb and indifferent every time I hear things like "You'll be fine", it feels like a dagger to my head, I no longer have a stimulus whenever I hear stuff like this.
It's beginning to make me doubt my capacities and to be very honest, life feels like one giant lump of mass with no essence or meaning.
Sometimes, I take the time to confess positivity
.....and see a different outlook whenever I'm having a stream of consciousness. I try to see if I can find any bight of positivity to hold on to, but I end up in a chain of my own imagination, locked by my disbelief, making it hard for me to pick myself up again. I have a lot of questions, and the fact that there forever going to be unanswered keeps me inebriated.
The inability to establish the clarity to move on keeps me tethered. I can no longer feel that positivity that drove me. I cannot remember the last time I did not have a lump in my throat. It feels endless, the suffering is beyond any mental reckoning.
Sometimes I sleep off my worry, then wake up at midnight, curled in bed and all the flashes of that night begin to come in again as if it's being played through a projector. When I manage to sleep again, I wake up worried, teary, and scared, and having all those vivid images flooding through my mind creates this wormhole inside me. It feels like I'm no longer immune and anything can pierce through.
I won't lie, there are days I feel strong enough to go, and then later in the day, I'm back to where I was. It's a shame. My plans to establish a support system haven't worked and sadly again, those I felt might come through only feel over like a pack of cards.
But it's life.
I'm beginning to accept that I have to deal with this, I've been researching better ways to live healthily, making plans to seek medical clarifications. I've planned some series of tests by January, trying to clear whatever medical doubts I might have, I just need to save up some money and begin this journey, and hopefully ending it might bring me peace, clarity, and a sense of security.
It's nothing like I've ever dealt with. The worst period in my life was nothing compared to this. This is different, it's inexplicable and while many might think it's a controllable situation, it actually isn't.
It's inevitable, we have to keep going.
It would seem difficult, but I promise to keep dragging myself across muddy or dry grounds and by any means necessary. Going through this alone is probably the most difficult thing ever, I'm grateful for the support I've gotten so far and I'll appreciate all that effort.
These people took their time and effort, and I'll hold it heart, but I realize I have to deal with my fear and pain, otherwise, it might just be difficult to truly live abundantly in the believability of life's goodness. I pray I meditate, but I think the problem I have is being blessed/cursed to have a vivid and retentive memory.
Interested in some more of my works