THE STORY OF MY BECOMING

THE SILENT STRUGGLE

showing up even when you are confused.

Some nights, fear crept in quietly. I would lie awake, listening to my own breathing, afraid it might suddenly change. Every unusual sensation sent my heart racing. Trauma teaches the body to remember even when the mind wants to forget.

During the day, I tried to live normally. I read, studied, helped my mother when I could, and maintained the image of strength my family needed. I did not want to be another burden. I had already cost them enough,hospital bills, sleepless nights, fear.

So I learned to carry my pain privately.

Friendships came and went. Some people approached me out of curiosity, some out of convenience, and a few out of genuine care. But I was careful. I no longer gave myself easily. Trust had become something sacred to me, something earned, not offered freely.

I noticed how quickly people tired of depth.

They wanted light conversations, easy laughter, surfacelevel connection. Few were willing to sit with silence, to understand trauma, to listen without trying to fix. And so, I often walked alone

Not all wars make noise.

Some battles are fought in silence, in the quiet hours of the night when the world sleeps and the mind refuses to rest. Mine was one of those wars. From the outside, it looked like I was recovering, adjusting, moving forward. But inside me, something fragile was still learning how to exist without fear.

Silence became my companion.

I spoke when necessary, smiled when expected, and laughed when it was socially required. But most of the time, I kept my thoughts locked away. People mistake silence for peace, but silence can also be a shield—one built by someone who has been hurt too many times.

I carried questions that had no answers.

Why did my body betray me so early in life?

Why did survival come with so much pain?

Why did love feel like a punishment instead of a blessing?

I asked God these questions often, not angrily, but honestly. I had learned that faith does not mean pretending everything is fine. Faith means ,even when surrounded by people.

Loneliness, I discovered, does not always mean being alone. Sometimes it means being unseen.

There were days I felt invisible. Not in a dramatic way, but in a quiet, aching way. I would watch life unfold around me and feel like an observe.