A Girl, Her Invisibility Cloak and Two Years of Recovery

The scars we don’t see..

Submitted by an anonymous contributor

“We commonly hear about various accidents that occur in and around the world but we rarely stop to consider how hard it must be for the survivors to move on with their lives.

I was once a girl who had and relied on faith. Whenever I travelled, whether commercially or privately, I made sure I put on my invisibility cloak — my belief in Godly powers to protect me at all times. With it, I was confident that I would be free from all sorts of harm — so much so that at times, I would go without uttering a word of prayer. In hindsight, this was probably the silliest belief I have ever had.

One day, I made my way back home from school by commercial road transport. My invisibility cloak was securely wrapped around my neck of course. A few seconds into the ride, I quickly fell asleep.

Oh right, this may be a good time to mention my condition, one that’s been newly termed “Carcolepsy”. A slight play on the well-known condition Narcolepsy, this term refers to those who are capable of falling asleep in a car the second its wheels start turning. During my nap, I dreamt some crazy lucid dreams, the usual.

The next thing I heard was “GBAM”. I woke up to an overwhelming sense of dread accompanied by an unfamiliar voice saying, “Oh well, you are going to die today”.

Time stood still; I could feel every sensation, hear every thought, and analyze every move the car made. I had time for hysterics, time for regret, time to visualize the faces of my soon-to-be sorrow-filled parents, time to bid adieu to this cold world, and lastly time to burn that damned invisibility cloak. In hindsight, I had way too much time on my hands before the car eventually skidded to a stop, but ironically, there was no time for tears.

There was a flood of screams from terrified passengers. It was mostly noise, but I made out a lot of “Jesus” exclamations. At this point, the stifling fear was worse than Ebola (I know, it’s a reach but you really have to take my word for it). Unlike Ebola however, sight and not contact was all one needed to sense the level fear at that moment. I asked God for forgiveness for all my sins because at this point, that was it — this was meant to be the end of my life’s story.

Remarkably, I survived. I’m still not sure how, but I did — albeit with a really ugly scar. Given that the car flipped 6 times before landing like a cat, I am and will forever be grateful. Surviving such an accident came with numerous statements commenting on how lucky and blessed I am to have come out unscathed. They were right, I was lucky but no one considered how the event affected me mentally.

I had no idea the time I had to think about my entire life as the accident played out would play a massive role in contriving the crippling fear I now deal with on a daily basis.

Following the accident, I was unable to drive. I could not start a car without breaking into sweats and hearing invasive recurring thoughts about death. It got so bad that I would still experience these symptoms without physically entering a car. I could be walking down the street and suddenly I’d imagine getting hit by a car — it took over my mind.

Now, in efforts to combat these thoughts, I take it upon myself to keep a close eye on those driving. It’s the only aspect I can control to a certain degree and so I do it diligently. While the accident did not take my life, it left me with a physical scar and an internal shift. Unfortunately, I only received get-well-soon cards for the former despite the paralyzing fear, aggression, paranoia and mental exhaustion I’ve faced.

In spite of it all, I have made incredible progress. It’s been 2 years since, and I can proudly say that my panic attacks are now a thing of the past. I am now comfortable with looking at a set of keys, or “starting the car” mentally — even putting it into reverse! Ah, I’m trying o. Regarding the thoughts, they’re still there but I’m actively working on drowning them out with positive ones or completely distracting myself.

I may not yet drive a car. I do know I will eventually because I consistently take steps at a time, to work at my own pace to overcome this fear.”

Usually, we would call our writer, “The Caterpillar of the Week”, but today, she’s an oyster with a beautiful pearl. Can you guess why?

You can also find this post on psyndup.com , where we’re sharing experiences and breaking stigma!