This is a clip from a biographical documentary that Ive been working on lately, and it centers around the ongoing psychological fallout brought on by a single traumatic instant. The subject matter is, of course, myself--because just 5 years ago I made a common error in grievances and paid the ultimate price. While some of you might differ naively and say that no, death is the worst possible outcome for my circumstance or others like it, I want people to know that the cruel and unusual life that can only stem from severe tragedy is more often than not, something not worth fighting for. It has its perks, dont get me wrong, like enlightening self-awareness and altruistic compassion for human life, but Ive also spent the vast majority of these past 5 years just wishing I had lost a little bit more blood because most of what I encounter is enough to make any normal human being look fondly at the edges of life. For those of you whom are unknowing, I was the passenger to a high-speed drunk driving accident and also the only person involved to be injured. I suffered blunt force trauma with 16 broken bones in my face and 1 in my shoulder. I woke up in a hospital 6 days later to the shock of a breathing tube being pulled out of my throat and my family wondering if I would be able to function correctly. I had intensive facial reconstruction surgery. Then had multiple supplemental plastic surgeries. I was told I would never play sports again. I missed 2.5 months of my senior year in high school, and roughly another in accumulated absences due to severe bullying. I was advised to see a psychiatrist, a psychologist, a therapist, and physical therapist whose help only came in the form of medications which I refused to take. I suffered insomnia, post traumatic stress disorder, and serious manic depression. I still battle body dysmorphic syndrome every goddamn time I see my reflection. (That is specifically what this clip exploits.) I have 9 incurable scars on my face and nerve damage in my jaw, nose, cheeks, and forehead. I have permanent hair loss and my life span is projected to be considerably shorter than average due to physical stress. The doctors told me healing will take a very long time and that it would never be what I want or expect; but they never mentioned how strangely people would look at me, how un-relatable I will forever be among my peers, and how heavy on my heart this loss of identity would feel for the rest of my life. I have accomplished so many normal things throughout the tumult of it all--things that most people my age would consider to be tedious or hard work in itself, like completing college with good grades, or winning running events, pursuing a dreamed about career; but nothing combats the internal conflict of having to hide all that truly shapes me, and the fact that I will never actually be able to. No amount of expensive makeup, fancy clothes, plastic surgeries, prescription pills, or awards of achievement will ever mask the extensive damage that has fractured my skull and my soul. Trust me, Ive tried. So today, on this monumental anniversary, I choose to reveal myself to all of you whom are so inherently privileged and whom Ive kept so tidily in the dark, with the great hope that the remainder of this documentary will take on a representation of life much less bleak than what it has amounted to thus far. Not just for my own personal endeavors, but for you to understand the psychology of others by looking at them through the lens of their mirrors--where the spectrum of life confronts us all.
Posted on: Sat, 25 Oct 2014 17:08:17 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015