My personal trauma struck me like a nightmare as if I was living in illusion earlier and it helped to enlighten my entire world. It completely jolted my inner self into pieces as if everything around me was nothing more than a fallacy. I began to question my own existence and had somehow internalized the seeming reality of the world as a pretension.
Back in my freshmen year in university, I took Psychology as a minor course like many other students just for the sake of its notoriety of being mysterious and estrangement from other purely science subjects. I enjoyed the nature of this subject and I come to know about many different therapeutic techniques in which one of them was hypnosis. I still remember, my psychology teacher told us that whosoever willingly wants to be a part of it can come to our last class of semester for this little hypnosis exercise. At that time, I found it weird that majority of the class preferred not to be a part of this exercise because they found it horrific. I was a nonchalant and rebellious student back in my academic years and I loved experimentation, mystery and cognitive challenges. We were 5 students who were willing for this hypnosis class but only 2 showed up.
My psychology teacher told that she’s not good at it but we persuaded her to try how it works. She asked me to lay on a sofa and close my eyes. I don’t remember much of it because I felt like I had some heavy sedative and felt like my body is paralyzed. I had these blurred flashbacks of being sexually molested by my cousin who I have always looked at as a brother. 30 minutes later, I woke up. I had forgotten everything but I felt very heavy. I was numb and delirious. I went home directly. I had a severe headache when I came home and informed my teacher about it who said that you carry a baggage and I told you beforehand that if you had been through some trauma or stress earlier in life, it could be triggered by it. I kept wondering what it is that I couldn’t recall. In this turmoil, I had to give my semester exams.
Later on, upon my teacher’s recommendation I visited a psychotherapist. I read a novel “Tess of the D’Urbervilles” by Thomas Hardy as a part of my course and it was a real trigger for me. I have this flashback which was seemingly like an old camera’s reel. The flashback came with a feeling that I had experienced it. Though I tried hard to nullify it as a false memory fabricated by my own mind. But I can’t resist that overwhelming flashback that had taken over most of my days.
Soon it all starting coming to me. One of my first cousins used to come at our place on weekends while he was studying at a university in Karachi. I was 7 years old. He was like an older brother to me. He was very emotionally attached to my mother and my mother usually invited him on weekends to spend time with us as he was away from his home. He was trust worthy and my parents usually left me and my younger brother alone at home under his supervision. He used to bribe my little brother with money and had showed him a place nearby our apartment where children used to play video games. My younger brother was gullible like most children are. Once my brother was gone, he used to do my homework and then molest me, sexually. This kept going on for a while. My parents used to call him at our place to take care of us. He made my younger brother habitual of going to game bars just so that he can fulfill his sexual urges with me. When my parents would come back, he would start yelling at me for being a dull student and not studying.
The credence of my story is that I forgot each and every bit of this information when I was growing up. Little did I know that it’s going to struck me at such later phase of my life. At first, I began questioning my own rational faculty but then it became too disturbing for me to handle that I failed my semester exams. My mind went blank and I left two of the exams in between. Soon after, I went back to the therapist and it took me around 6 months to recover.
In those 6 months, I was on medications and had intensive one-to-one psychotherapy sessions because I was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). I learnt confrontation and wearing your own trauma in your sleeves. Those 6 months enlightened my entire world and I began to fall in love with my vulnerability and pain. I embraced it. I took it as my strength rather than a weakness. Even today, I still can hear the words of my therapist saying that “There are always two strict paths leading to different destinations. It’s us who decide which one goes well for our kind of story. It’s up to us to either become a victim or a survivor. What do you want to be? We are at the end of the day are known for the choices we made.” I wiped the last of my tears that day. The day I decided that I would help others to pave their way to embracing their flawed, human self.
I have worked hard on mending my broken, feeble self and emerged today as a strong woman who I am proud of. Once I had recovered, I reassured my parents. I don’t blame them or have any grudges against them. Soon after recovery, my department allowed me to attempt the exam again in which I had failed earlier. I successfully completed my Master’s in Applied Psychology (MSc) which I never thought I could.
This episode has inspired me. I believe it’s always the ‘process’ that really counts at the end of the day in order to leave your footprints on the sands of time. I hope it help others who have a same kind of suffering with this silent whisper, “You are being heard and it’s okay to be broken and vulnerable, it’s beautiful in its own way.”