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Placing her hand on her chest, Shanaya let out a breath and immediately stepped out of the elevator, walking backwards as she said, “it was nice to meet you, sister-in-law! I better get going, have to go to the wards, I will see you later!”
The elevator door closed before she could finish her sentence, nevertheless, we heard it loud and clear.
“She’s quite a character.” I commented, still looking at the elevator door.
“You got that right. She sure is,” Daksh shook his head exasperatingly. Never had I ever seen him so annoyed before.
We soon resumed with the checkup. Dr. Sengupt who suspected it to be a cortisol awakening response caused by PTSD.
“Do you remember anything that was rather traumatic to you in your childhood?” he asked, pushing the reading glasses over the bridge of his nose and he looked at the exam pad he was ticking during the evaluation.
I tried hard to remember anything to supply to him but came up blank.
Since, I couldn’t supply him with any event that was traumatic to me around the time it had started, he sat back sighing, “I suspect that you have a memory gap because of the trauma. The PTSD has had evidence of the memory gaps in the traumatized children, the same could have been in your case.
Anyway, get these tests done to be on a safer side, let us see if there happen to be any abnormalities in your head. Also, I’ll give a few more follow up dates to help understand the cause for it, that would also decide whether or not you should start taking medicines for your probable PTSD.”
*******
I woke up in a place that was dark and hot. The air felt musty and humid. Everywhere hurt in my body. How did I get here? Where was I?
I cried and called for my mother. I screamed for my father, but I couldn’t see anyone.
The only source of light was the opening at the top with the sky in sight that was soon turning dark. The space was confined and the ground was hard. I was bleeding at many places.
My screams became more frantic when I felt something crawl on my back. My tiny hands and legs didn’t have enough energy to climb back up the dry well I had fallen into. I don’t know how long I have been here. Screaming and shouting for help. Even my throat was dry and hurt from screaming. The big blue ball was the only thing that was accompanying me.
“Rynah!” someone shouted as a head appeared above. My teacher, she had found me!
“Miss! Here! I’m here!” I cried in a coarse voice. More teachers piled around and one of them started climbing down.
They put a rope down that they fastened around me and pulled me up. I was feeling claustrophobic and nauseous and ended up fainting halfway up.
When I woke up again, I heard the principal scolding the teachers, “What kind of teachers are you? How can you not be able to take care of handful of kids? If the parents get to know about this, we might even get sued for your carelessness! Thankfully, the child was not hurt very badly. Else we were done for!”
The incident had left me with minor injuries. I was sent back home early from the trip due to my fever. But no one had figured out the mental trauma that a young child of ten had incurred.
I remember that I had gotten down the well halfway to retrieve the ball when I had fallen and hurt myself, fainting on a field trip. The incident had mentally scarred my brain enough to make me forget about the trauma but retain the consequences for a long time due to incorrect diagnostics.
I opened my eyes to find Dr. Sengupta sitting before me and Viaan was rubbing my upper arm supportively. That was when I remember that it was one of the follow up sessions that I was recommended to take up and Dr. Sengupta had conducted a hypnotherapy that helped me remember the forgotten trauma.
Can’t believe I was traumatized by falling into a dry well…
Compared to the events that I have faced in my last few months, dry well looked like a cakewalk. How did I not end up being more traumatized in the last few months? I looked over my shoulder at Viaan who was busy discussing the further course of action with Dr. Sengupta. My heart skyrocketed recalling the fact that he had set aside his time from his jam packed schedule for my hypnotherapy session and came with me for emotional support.
If I looked at it from another perspective, perhaps, it was because of him that I wasn’t residing in one of the wards of a mental asylum? He was my traumatizer yet also my savior. Perhaps, I was already broken beyond my capacity, that it was hard to break me any further…
And here I go again with my idiotic logic.
Stupid stupid Rynah! Perhaps the trauma will get traumatized after living with you!
Shaking my head to get rid of the thoughts, I started listening to what Dr. Sengupta was explaining, “—the new places perhaps would have reminded her of the feeling of waking up in the well, the panic had worsened over the time when no familiar face came into view for the given period.
Thankfully, the PTSD seems to be of an uncomplicated form, which doesn’t warrant any medication in her case unless absolutely necessary, just some more sessions of psychotherapy should do wonders.”
Both the men turned to smile at me, making me give back an embarrassed smile. Thank god! I did not need any meds, else my mother would freak out directly jumping to the conclusion that I was lunatic! Wouldn’t we all do that when we hear anyone visiting a psychiatrist? Judging people as and when it pleased us without knowing anything regarding their difficulties or the details of their disorders. But not every illness was the same, nor every patient was a lunatic. We were all broken in our own ways. We all deserve support and respect not caring what anybody would say.
Even now as we walked out of the door, Viaan’s hand was in mine that comforted my soul. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “there you go, I guess we found your lost screws and patched you up.”
