Trauma is the ‘emotional response to a time-based event that leads to an intense fear of your own or a loved one’s death, injury or serious illness....
COVER STORY
Losing a loved one impacts different people differently. Some people get over it by grieving for the departed, but others may keep their feelings bottled up and become depressed. In certain cases, the experience can cause trauma.
Trauma is the ‘emotional response to a time-based event that leads to an intense fear of your own or a loved one’s death, injury or serious illness. You can still have trauma even if it happened to someone else. Trauma can either be physical or emotional. Physical trauma refers to a serious bodily injury while emotional trauma is the emotional response to a disturbing event or situation.
The loss of a loved one is perhaps the most traumatic experience anyone can go through. I, too, witnessed the loss of my paternal grandfather who also happened to be my best friend. After he passed away, I felt lonely and experienced actual physical pain induced by sudden trauma. However, the overwhelming support I received from my parents, friends and the educational institution in which I was enrolled in at that time helped me overcome my grief, and played a pivotal role in my healing process.
My experience may aid grief-stricken victims who have either witnessed the death of a loved one or any other setback which had a tremendous impact on them.
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I had my first encounter with sudden grief when I was about 12. I vividly remember running in and out of my grandpa’s bedroom when he collapsed in the middle of a conversation with my mom and sister. Their screams made us all aware that something dreadful had happened to him.
He was immediately rushed to the hospital, but deep inside I knew that my grandpa and my best friend had departed - without saying goodbye to me. His mortal remains were brought back from the hospital in an ambulance. In the meantime, immediate relatives, neighbours and family friends began to arrive at our house.
I was in a state of shock and could not comprehend what was going on. I was shaking all over due to the initial panic attack. My cheeks were flushed and my eyes were filled with tears.
I was a chubby and overweight young adolescent at that time, and one could easily mistake me for Augustus Gloop, the character in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
I managed to regain control over my emotions, but didn’t know how to deal with the dozens of family friends and relatives who had come to mourn.
That night was the longest night I have ever experienced.
According to our family traditions, a deceased person is buried in their hometown. In case of my grandpa, it was a remote hill station situated in Abbottabad. We departed for our village before the break of dawn in a convoy of three large buses and the ambulance carrying my grandpa’s mortal remains. We reached our destination pretty early. The distance between Islamabad (the city where we live) and Abbottabad (our ancestral hometown) is not that much; the total travelling time is three hours. But for me it felt like an eternity! I just wanted the journey to end.
Upon reaching the village, I found many distant relatives waiting for us. What followed next is not worth mentioning. Expressing grief in terms of shedding tears is quite natural but exaggeration of grief by wailing loudly is quite painful for the immediate family members of the deceased.
As soon as my grandpa’s coffin was placed in the compound of our ancestral home, the female relatives started crying in shrill voices. Their screams were unbearable for us. Luckily, my dad realized our state and initiated a normal conversation with us regarding our ongoing exams, the natural beauty of our ancestral village and the books we were reading. The funeral prayers were offered by mid-day, and grandpa was laid to rest. Soon after, we all went back to Islamabad.
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Now the second part of this story takes shape. After returning from the village, I had to focus on the exams I had missed due to my grandpa’s death. I don’t know how I managed to prepare for my exams as I was still traumatized. I aced English, History, Geography, Islamic Studies and Urdu, but failed a foreign language and my Math exams.
I resumed my second semester of grade six, and began to encounter a lot of problems. As you know, my grandpa was my best friend, and I used to share my secrets with him. Now I had no one to share my secrets with. I had no one else with whom I could discuss the issues I was facing at school.
I started to daydream in the middle of lectures, becoming oblivious to what was going on around me. At this stage I began to encounter bullies who subjected me to both physical and verbal assaults. I tried to manage the issues I was facing on my own but failed.
Finally, I informed my parents about the bullying by my classmates. My mom brought the matter up with the school administration and strict action was taken against the bullies. My teachers were aware of my grief, and at times I noticed they paid special attention to me.
As I had already failed in my Math’s examination and my performance in the subject was consistently below par, special remedial classes were arranged to help me clear the concepts. In addition to this, all the teachers encouraged me to speak up during class discussions and participate in activities. They also kept an eagle’s eye on the bullies who had troubled me in the past. On countless occasions, my teachers inquired whether I was facing any academic or social issues at the school. The vice-principal, coordinator and all my teachers kept my mom in the loop and kept her updated with my progress. The vice principal further encouraged my mom to get us enrolled in the after-school clubs to overcome the trauma as swiftly as possible.
In retrospect, the triangular link between teachers, parents, and the aggrieved child plays a pivotal role in helping that kid overcome trauma. My parents were aggrieved themselves, but they left no stone unturned in assisting their children.
First and foremost, the vast garden present inside our bungalow was renovated after years of disrepair and negligence. The whole barren garden was built again; it got new plants and it was carpeted by a new layer of grass. This was done to reignite my passion for gardening in spare time. Studies have proved that spending time being surrounded with greenery assists an individual heal quickly.
In two months’ time, the side effects of trauma were wearing off. By March 2017, three months after my grandpa’s death, I was well on track on the path to complete rehabilitation. Then things like joining a football training club, and going on field trips with school really distracted us from the pain of losing my grandpa.
During the summer vacations of 2017, for the first time in my life, I visited my village for two weeks. By July that year, six months after my grandpa’s death, normalcy was resumed.
Through sharing our experiences with others, we can help people understand the effects of trauma, and teach them how to overcome grief, and move on, just like I learned how important it is to identify the different stages of trauma and deal with them patiently instead of ignoring them. And, I also realized you can’t recover without the support of your family and friends. Though every person deals with trauma differently, our individual stories of how we recovered can be a great source of comfort for people who experience traumatic events.
