Waking Up
"She's awake! She's awake!" I heard someone shouting at the top of her lungs. I am trying to make out the unfamiliar faces in front of me. I saw several people surrounding me, and it made me feel uncomfortable. It made me feel as if my personal space is being invaded. I never liked being near strangers. Then, suddenly I felt someone holding my right hand. I frowned and tried to take it away, only that it happened in slow motion. My hands are too frail to move even just an inch. It felt like I have to summon every ounce of energy I have left in my body just to make it happen. I don't like being touched either, especially by people that I am not familiar with.
"Don't touch me." I said trying to force out a sound. In my head, I said it loud and clear, but it came out faintly –- almost like a whisper.
"Darling, don't worry. The doctor will be here soon. I'm glad that you pulled through." The woman who appeared to be in her late thirties told me. She was teary-eyed but smiling at me, and then she held my hand once again. I am annoyed, but what can I do? In this state, I am helpless.
A man in white, who I assumed was the doctor, came in to see me. He started to examine me and did a bit of test to see if I am fully and consciously responsive and aware of my environment.
A lot happened that day, and every time I look back to that moment, it only made me question a bunch of things. Whatever happened to me that made me end up in the hospital and made me brain dead for months -– well, it really did fucked up everything in my life entirely, including my head. I don't remember anything about my existence. My childhood, my friends, my family, birthdays, Halloweens, Christmas, and all things in between –- everything wiped out, like as if I never existed before this.
The doctor said that the part of my brain that is responsible for forming memories was badly damaged. The trauma caused me to contract amnesia, for how long? Only time can tell -- worst it can be permanent. I am growing impatient with myself. I get mood swings and a bad temper. I burst out in anger so easily, that most people who said they know me always comment that I came back as if I am a different person.
They don't know me anymore. And honestly, I don't care. I don't care a bit. The doctor said what happened to me has triggered all these changes. Having heard that, I felt relieved. It gave me a good excuse to be a bitch from time to time, without having the need to feel guilty about it. I underwent some therapies to help me with my recovery. I spent half the year attending therapy sessions, both physical and mental.
I'm happy because finally, my doctors all agreed that I can start going back to school. They said it will help a lot with my recovery. It gave me a new reason to start anew. Staying at home and doing therapies for God knows how long bores me to death. It's true, I hate being surrounded by people, but it doesn't mean that I don't want to go out and meet new friends to have fun with. Besides, people tell me that this life I have at this moment is a second one.
I have to live it to the fullest and see how far I will go with it. When I think of it, yes, they are right. It felt like I came back for a reason –- for what reason though, that I didn't know. I still have to find out. At night, I lie in my bed thinking about so many things. I toss and turn, but sleep doesn't come, and when it does –- it gave me nightmares. If sandman be so nice enough to let me sleep in peace, I still get to dream about a guy.
My nightmares and dreams are all nothing but recurring. It's the same theme, with the same person or persons in it over and over again. And when I wake up, I just cry as if I have lost someone. I tried asking around to see if I have some loose ends with some guy before all these, but no one seemed to know. Like me, everybody is clueless. My therapist just told me to write everything down, and hope that one day, it will all make sense.
I've been in a coma for three months, so having me back was like a miracle. My mom told me that I had a close encounter with death a few times. The last time it happened, the doctor tried to revive me one more time. I pulled through, then I woke up two days later. The rarity of something like that happening is so rare, they could hardly believe it. The doctors even get to the point of giving my mom the option to just pull the plug. So when I woke up, they say its all a miracle. People ask me how it's like to be in there –- but I can't give them any answers. I can only remember being in darkness, then the feeling of falling into what feels like an endless fall, dozing off, and then waking up.
What life has for me now – I can't tell. But I am sure, about one thing. The guy in my dreams is someone significant. If he was someone I knew before this, I must go and find him. At times, I would wonder if the guy's my soul mate in this lifetime. Or what if I used to have a boyfriend whom I told no one about, so nobody knows him? The thoughts had me go laughing insanely.
How I wish I have a friend whom I can confide to and laugh with. Someone whom I can talk to, about my thoughts and feelings over random things without the need to filter it out. It sucks forgetting all the people you used to know. They all become a stranger to you, then you suddenly become so distant to them. No matter how hard they try to win you over, you get that sense of disconnectedness. No matter how hard you try to remember those feelings so you could feel them, you instead end up feeling out of place and wanting to be alone. I often wonder what I was like before all these. Was I a better person back then? I think about it so much most of the time that it drifts me off to sleep.