333 Days of Fear

I have been living in constant fear for 333 days. I still hear the bang of his head against the wooden floors, and the sound that left those lips which would forever haunt me for eternity. Eleven minutes of the ongoing call at 9:38am still remain on my phone like a plastered stain. Terror now owns the house, rules over every hallway, every room, every moment.

The memory of my brother’s seizure is always there, in the back of my mind. It seems as though my entire family feels the same, always on their feet, always watching. The way I felt useless in those moments, like no matter how fast I ran it was not fast enough. Always in fear that if it does happen again, I would not be there to save him this time. This also followed me to my everyday life, in uneasiness that if I do not hurry for events, assignments or even simple tasks something dreadful is peaking and waiting to happen. I was somehow convinced that my presence and urgency could somehow prevent any mishap.

Questions. So many questions and thoughts all raced through my mind like electricity, and I could not stop my brain from racing. I remember feeling sad and angry all at the same time. Sorrowful about why this had to happen to my family, and all the trauma they now had to go through. But yet so angry at the universe and myself for allowing this to happen, and myself for not being there at the right time. Tears, thoughts, and a racing heart was what I would become for the next weeks, and months.

It has been 10 months, 28 weeks, and 333 days since then. And in just 33 days marks one year since that occurrence. It’s been silent since then. Though every thump and stump triggers pilo erections sending a chill through my body and keeping me on edge. Although, when people said “Time heals” I never believed it. How could the days and months heal what is already broken into pieces? To my surprise with time, I found myself replacing those fears with acceptance and adaptability that allowed me to face each day with more courage. I learned that while the memories might never fully fade, I could still reclaim my peace by focusing on the present, grounding myself in small moments of calm and clarity.

In moments where everything feels chaotic and hopeless, I find myself remembering those recollections and my journey as a person. In a moment of sadness, sometimes we break to find our way.