The Unseen Weight of Trauma
The moment I walked into the store, I was in total shock. I saw a familiar face staring back at me and I instantly knew that person was somewhere in the store as well. The person who had caused me so much pain, A wave of dizziness washed over me. I quickly turned on my heels and rushed out, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere. But once outside, I collapsed onto the pavement. My body shook uncontrollably and I struggled to breathe, my heart racing as hyperventilation took hold. Tears streamed down my face and I found myself sobbing in public, the stares of onlookers barely registering through my haze of distress.
A kind employee from the store noticed my struggle and came over to check on me. I was at a loss for words. How could I possibly explain what had just happened? In that moment, all I could do was reach for my phone and call my dear friend. Her voice was a lifeline, urging me to come over. I sat in my car, tears flowing freely until my eyes were swollen and red, feeling utterly exposed in my vulnerability.
It’s true what they say, trauma often manifests as a reaction, not a memory. I hadn’t anticipated that seeing that face, the person who had caused me so much pain, would trigger such a visceral response. The embarrassment of my breakdown mingled with the sharp pain of betrayal, hitting me like a hard slap on the face, a reminder of wounds I thought had healed.
As I drove to my friend’s house, the tears continued to spill. The moment I arrived, I wrapped my arms around her, allowing the comfort of her presence to soothe me. I poured out my heart, recounting the incident and the flood of emotions that followed. We talked for hours, her gentle words a balm for my soul.
In that safe space, I began to realize the power that person had over my emotions. It was astounding to think that someone who had caused me such hurt could still evoke such a profound reaction. Yet, here I was, enveloped in love and support, finding solace in the embrace of my friend.
A week later, I met another friend to catch up. As we caught up, she revealed that she had encountered that person recently. She casually brought up about me, telling that person that we had recently reconnected and are on good terms now. That person’s reaction to my friend telling her about me shocked me to my core. “Nisha? Dia gila tak?” All because I had a panic attack after seeing her at the store.
I never knew a person could be so... evil. It was a harsh reminder of the scars that linger long after the pain has subsided.