Disclaimer to people who know me: I've never been one with words so bear with me as I try to explain how I feel. This is directed at no one, and is not to downplay the concern I have received. This is a means for me to express myself about something that I've been feeling quite a lot but haven't been able to put into words. I think that this is something that everyone who has been through injury or poor mental state has or will feel, so please don't take this the wrong way.
"What happened to your arm?" "How are you?"
These are questions that have plagued me since the beginning of school. Wrapped up in surgical tape as protection and aid to the healing, my right arm that could have been shredded by glass is a sight that inevitably draws the attention of curious school-mates and acquaintances.
Of course, I reply to satiate their curiosity. It's been more than a month and a half after my accident and yet I still feel as if I'm speaking in third-person; story-telling if you'd like. The disconnection I feel when I story-tell is one of inexplicable nature. I am present yet I am not. So this is how I'll tell MY story, in the perspective of another.
For the first 12 days after the accident she lay in bed staring at the whirring blades of her ceiling fan, in pain yet not being entirely present to experience it. These were the hardest days. She hadn't yet accepted what had happened, completely losing her will to do anything. She'd lie in front of her literature textbook trying to read it but focus on the thoughts swarming her fragile mind. People tell her that focusing on her exams is nominal in these circumstances, that focusing on her physical and mental health are far more pertinent. Naturally they don't understand how important doing well in school is to her. What was the point of her working so hard over the last two years, fuelled entirely by self-determination and intrinsic motivation to make her parents proud if she wouldn't be able to prove herself in every set of exams, tests or in class? She needs to show her parents that their hefty investment in her exorbitant education and their sacrifices were worth it.
Constantly having to remind herself that the situation could have been much worse, she is unequivocally exhausted of others telling her the same. "I thought it was much worse." "I was so worried!" "It's not that bad." She wants to scream at them for downplaying what had happened. Maybe it's not their intention but that's exactly how they make it seem. She feels hollow, yet that does not encapsulate how she feels. It's more like she's a tunnel being excavated and then collapsing into herself. It's a gnawing feeling in her gut, an aching feeling in her heart, but at the same time nothing is physically wrong - nothing's wrong yet the sense of wrongness is unrelenting. Ironically, she feels imprisoned inside a glass bauble. The world continues to move around her but she is not involved, nor does she care.
Their comments make her feel like she's being melodramatic. Of course this situation could have been much worse. Of course the physical extent of the damage wasn't so bad. But they don't know.
They don't know the mental anguish she'd been through those 12 days that made the physical pain negligible. The constant crying, questioning, ruminating. They don't know what it is like to feel hollow; losing purpose and sight of your goals. They don't know what it is like to have glass shards rip through their flesh and they don't know what it is like for her to actively recall the exact feeling of the moment. They don't know her perpetual disquietude around glass objects. They don't know the perturbation that is now always there, the sense of loss she feels that instigates prolonged moments of panic she experiences at the most unexpected moments.
They hadn't been through anything - they don't know ANYTHING. Why should they be allowed to make her feel like she's making a big deal out of nothing?
Of course, the rational side of her is acutely aware that they're only trying to help but can't help but wonder how much of this care and concern she is receiving is only out of their desire to know. She wonders this because she's pretended to care out of this same desire once before. She feels no shame in admitting this to herself because it is the truth, and she knows it is human nature to do so. Everyone's done it and they would be lying if they said they haven't.
And of course, she appears okay on the outside. Because she's built wall after wall, year after year. She knows how to hide her feelings. She knows how to cry in secret and she knows how to not let anyone in. Now, she just has to negate the ceaseless 'what if's' that emerge in her mind. What if she hadn't been in the shower? What if the door hadn't shattered? The prevailing anger that accompanies these thoughts is complemented by a barrage of despondency. Hopeless and despair have become quotidian, but she thinks that by not displaying emotion she is strong. Compartmentalisation has become her friend.
And then there is the feeling of guilt. Guilt at not feeling enough. The constant questions of whether she is 'sufficiently sad'. Wondering how she should feel. When she feels happy she feels guilty that she does not feel worse because of what had happened. It is a constant state of conflict, something that cannot be resolved. It's something she wants to talk about but she can't. She hates talking. She doesn't want to talk about it anymore.
So don't ask her. Don't comment on something you don't know. Do NOT put pressure on her to talk to someone and don't try to put yourself in her shoes and tell her you understand how she feels. Do not say you are worried about her because she can take care of herself. If you read this and you know her, don't say a word. It's not that she doesn't appreciate you trying or your offers for help - she's trying to help herself so much and regain a sense of control over her life - and that's all she can do right now. Just give her space and let her breathe. Let her recover. She will ask for your help when she needs it and when she is ready but she knows that she won't have to because she is strong. She is so much stronger than you know. She is so much stronger than she knows herself.