Knocking

IN ENGLISH

A month prior to meeting you, I faced one of the toughest challenges and decisions in my life. This year has been incredibly trying for me, not in the typical sense of a breakup that most people endure, but due to an ongoing illness that has left me constantly feeling unwell.

During that time, I felt overwhelmed and sought escape by riding my motorcycle fast through the dark. My mind and heart were in turmoil; nothing seemed to align, and I grappled with thoughts of either heading nowhere or crashing into a large vehicle or train. It was a chaotic moment. I cried uncontrollably, feeling as though everything I had built was shattered, hoping the rain would wash away my tears.

Only two years ago did I realize that something was amiss with me. I had an illness that stumped cardiologists, pulmonologists, and even neurologists. It was the moment I gathered my courage to speak with a psychologist that I began piecing together the puzzles of my life, understanding how I felt and its potential impact on my future.

I struggled with suicidal thoughts triggered by sudden panic attacks since I was 10. Initially misunderstood, my condition was unidentified despite reassurances of physical health from doctors. My childhood wasn't typical; I acted out and faced relentless scolding from my mother over trivial mistakes. Nights often found me running into the forest alone, returning home disoriented, after engaging in reckless behavior that endangered my life.

My school days were no easier; I was frequently mocked and found myself in perilous situations. I was exposed to theft and even suffered abuse from a family member.

Despite these challenges, I strived as a diligent teenager, trying to cope with the turmoil of my past. The memories resurfaced gradually, affecting my well-being. After nearly 12 years of living apart from my family, I returned home 10 months ago, fearing the prospect of facing death alone. However, attempts to suppress the pain by associating with the wrong people only exploited my vulnerabilities, leaving me feeling destroyed by those indifferent to the impact on others' lives.

I attempted to heal by revisiting my childhood home during these past 10 months, but now, I've decided to return to living alone in a small room. On the third day, that suffocating feeling started to return. I felt the same way as I did ten months ago—lost in my thoughts, angered by whatever was before me. Once more, I resorted to drowning out the noise with deafening music.