Internal War by Cheryl

Internal War by Cheryl - February 2017 Scholarship Essay

An internal war lasted the entire summer. Memorial Day Weekend 2016, will always hold an ominous feeling. Many were out celebrating their weekend off, while I was bound northward on Amtrak. Before the final station, I positioned myself comfortably and fell fast asleep. Little did I know that I would awaken abruptly from deep slumber. The pain came first, then blurriness. Unknown to me, the lock to the pull tray overhead had been slowly releasing from the rapid shuffle of the train. It had finally loosened and the tray landed on my left temple. Scorching pain swiftly followed. The diagnosis would take approximately 2 weeks. The recovery would take six months.
An injury can be caused by two reasons; one’s own carelessness or a natural uncontrollable force. For the following three months, I believed for a fact that I was responsible. I failed to check the lock. Eight weeks of physical therapy ensued after the diagnosis; this was a brain injury or in layman's term, a concussion. My entire summer was redrawn. It was chaos. Countless volunteer opportunities were left untouched, but numerous appointments took their place. The bills were stacking up with each swipe of the credit card. My only comfort was a mattress, but even then sleep never came. I laid for hours each night contemplating my mistake. If only I had felt an urge to lock the tray in place, my predicament would be different.
Every other week, I was dragged out of bed into the car to a rehabilitation clinic. The therapist determined my inability to drive. We worked through the pain, side by side. I walked through the doors, to the outside like someone leaving state penitentiary. The appointments were nothing less of torture.
The physical suffering was incomparable to the mental agony. Not only did I procure a large bump on my head, but an inward struggle formed. Day in and day out I placed the blame on myself. I was foolish, therefore this was the consequence. This mentality lasted until one night I arose from my sleepless state and pondered. The realization came much later than anticipated. It was not my fault. In that instant, I had no way of escaping the falling tray. Even if I had checked that lock a dozen times over, I had no ability to prevent the jerk in the train.
This realization came the night before my senior year of high school. My courses were nothing short of rigor. Multiple days I dealt with inability to concentrate, overcome dizziness, and control nausea. But everyday, before entering the double doors, through the oncoming traffic of students, I advise myself to take it step by step. I still have a long way to go in my recovery, but if I can simply remember that outside forces affect my life just as much as my own decisions do, the pain will be a little more bearable.
That fateful day during my junior year of high school, will always serve as a reminder. Although the initial pain will never cease, the lesson is invaluable. Throughout my recovery I have gained patience and my perseverance amassed strength. Obstacles are meant to be jumped over, not run into like towering walls.