M.H.

Little did I know that when I left to study abroad through Westmont College my entire life would change while I was in Berlin, Germany. On October 10, 2016 I was on the U-Bahn (Berlin’s underground railroad system) trying to make it back to my homestay from German Language School, when I experienced the rockiest ride of my life, literally and metaphorically. Due to malfunctioning brakes, when we turned a corner our U-Bahn ended up crashing into the walls of the underground tunnel, and as we entered the platform area, I felt the train jolt as a figure rolled across the windows, and we came to a screeching and abrupt stop. There was a moment of stillness, where nobody could comprehend what had just happened, and then we heard a man screaming. I looked down to the sliver of space where the U-Bahn meets the platform, and saw a man crushed under the weight of the train. I’ll spare you the details, but it was shockingly and unavoidably gruesome. For the following weeks, months, and even years afterwards I wrestled with PTSD symptoms including flashbacks, hallucinations, and loss of motivation, sleep, and appetite. I completely fell apart on the inside and felt like I was losing my mind, but tried to hide it, not wanting to be a burden on anyone or seem dramatic. I felt like I would never again be “normal” or myself, and wanted to end it all so that the haunting memories and tormenting emotions would leave me alone.

I withdrew from everyone, my friends, my family, and my boyfriend at the time. I didn’t understand what was going on inside of me, and for over a year I downplayed the extent of my PTSD out of deep fear, pain, and confusion. I believed the lie that no one would understand or truly care, so I felt completely alone in my suffering. I did everything I could to distract myself and pretend that I was ok, but on the inside I was slowly shutting down to try and numb the pain. In October of 2018, I experienced dissociative amnesia for about 10 hours and was reported missing to the police. When I was made aware of what happened, I knew that I couldn’t go on faking a smile and pretending I was ok, so it was time for me to get help.

The turnaround came as I began to open up in counseling, and to my close friends. Embracing vulnerability and speaking out about how the accident in Berlin truly affected me made me feel so exposed and brought up deep pain that I had stifled for a long time, but it began to heal me. I chose to face it, to strip that event of the power it had over my mind, and found that through writing poetry I was able to process it in a healthy way. I would encourage anyone who struggles with any sort of mental health battle to talk to someone you trust, and find something that makes you feel even the tiniest bit better and do it. Be open and honest, because what you experience matters, and it won’t go away on its own if you don’t ask for help. It’s in the most difficult times in our lives when we have to choose to either let it break us down or shape us into the people we were always supposed to be. You are stronger, braver, and more resilient than you give yourself credit for. Please be gentle with yourself in your healing process, none of us would know light if we did not know darkness. 

I am now happier and freer than I’ve ever been, and it is largely due to accepting and coming to terms with my difficult journey. Sometimes you have to fight a little harder than you should have to for a little while, but it will not always be like that. It’s not fair, but it will make you stronger, more empathetic, and joy is on the other side of the mental battle. The pain and suffering you feel will not last forever, and you do not have to go through it alone. In fact, the struggles you face might be the very thing that allows you to connect with others who have experienced something similar. So speak up! Your story matters.

Here’s a poem that I wrote in the midst of the darkest season of my life. To anyone who has wrestled with PTSD or knows someone who has, this is for you.

PTSD

i have lost my mind. 

i refuse to say that

the pieces don’t come together,

even though

now i believe

i doubt they will click in this lifetime

due to the off switches in my brain

failing to connect

i’ll always be haunted

and it’s a lie to say

i know it would hurt those around me

disappearing from myself for a while.

i don’t want to hide from the unknown

at the mercy of my limitations but

my idea of freedom is

dreaming to escape my mind, forever.

it’s not easy

because you don’t understand how

i am broken. 

i am lost.

so please don’t tell me

i am still me, on the inside.

Recovery

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