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  • Writer's pictureMounika Sammiti

3 Times of Wound

In 2016, I experienced a traumatic event where I was stabbed three times in my Anahata, which is often associated with the heart center or chakra. The imagery might evoke memories of the scene from Game of Thrones where the Children of the Forest stab a man in the chest, transforming him into the Night King. While I didn't undergo such a transformation, the pain of the wounds I endured was very real. Since that time, I've faced a prolonged period of despair, financial struggle, and memory loss, akin to a long winter of hopelessness. However, just two weeks ago, I began to see the only glimmer of light fading into complete darkness.


The object that had been lodged within me was finally removed. Instead of blood gushing out, I felt an overwhelming surge of pain that seemed never-ending, leaving me in tears wherever I went. It was a moment of intense suffering that compelled me to confront my internal demons and bring them into the light. This marked the beginning of my journey of blogging about my internal pain.

A week after the initial bout of pain, I sank into a profound depression despite being cleared of any disabling conditions like schizophrenia. The new medications I was prescribed plunged me into deep drowsiness, causing me to spend days on end asleep in a dimly lit room. I would only awaken briefly to struggle with writing my truth amidst the haze, managing to eat just once a day. It felt like an eternal, never-ending darkness or akin to a personal doomsday. During those lengthy periods of slumber, I found myself ensnared in relentless nightmares featuring the most harrowing forms of activities reminiscent of the atrocities of the Battle of Nanking. I couldn't discern whether the figures in those dreams were manifestations of myself, people I knew, or strangers—each night was a torment of uncertainty that took terrifying forms of Human Fear.


Today, I find myself basking in the light again after enduring a prolonged period of darkness, though uncertain how long this respite will last. I've solemnly promised to continue writing for myself, to serve as a beacon in the tumultuous sea of life. Reflecting on the timeless words of Martin Luther King Jr., I remind myself:


“Don't allow anybody to make you feel that you're nobody. Always feel that you count and have worth and that your life has ultimate significance.”

That anybody is I, me, myself.


I recognize now, even if only in a small measure, the profound truth about remarkable leaders. It's not the absence of inner conflicts that sets them apart, but rather their unwavering resolve in the face of adversity. They choose not to let their inner struggles overpower them; they reject conformity to societal expectations but instead rise above them, becoming beacons of hope and inspiration for others.


The expectations placed on a brown woman are vast and varied, yet within my immediate circle, there's a prevailing sentiment that I must either fix myself or allow others to fix me. Admittedly, I carry my own share of brokenness, but I've realized that I don't necessarily require fixing. Despite the darkness surrounding me in the last few weeks, I've discovered love and peace within me. What I truly need now is not to be fixed but rather to embrace the lessons of self-evolving that await me on my journey forward. Remember, Destruction takes only a minute, but creation takes patience.

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