The story of how I failed part 2.

Empathy what I needed or just a little bit of compassion could be enough. When I was all by myself sitting near the gate waiting for my flight. People were walking towards me and just passing by. People were sitting near me and they were busy with their own business. Obviously I was not fine and my face were covered in tears. Nobody noticed or nobody cared to notice. In the plain, I was surrounded with my people from my home country, sometimes they were looking at me but no one said a word. I felt so alone and miserable. I was maybe in wrong place with wrong people, otherwise someone would have shown me some kindness.

Nothing could help me anyway. I got home and went through more upsetting situations, three funerals. Funeral of Susan and her daughter were in the next day And Arezo after two weeks. For her it was more complicated, since her parents were in the hospital in very critical condition, we should keep it as a secret. I had to be brave and strong for my sister, she endeavored a lot of pain and had 15 operations. Every single moment of that month was torture and pain. Once I lost control over my emotions and cried out loud, It was one of those day after visiting my sister in hospital, she was constantly asking me where is my daughter, I was behind the glass, smiling and lying to her face that she is okay and getting medical care in children hospital. When I got home whatever I kept buried inside came back to surface, I cried and cried and surprisingly I felt better, crying does help, that was the reason why I stopped myself from crying. I didn’t want to feel better. The good time was gone and you never going to have those joyful moment with your loved ones any more. I could understand the meaning of this quota: “The worst day of loving someone is the day you loose them”.

Compassion was all I needed not from others but from myself. I should have forgave myself but I knew I was the one to blame. I heard a story from a husband and a father who lost his family in the 11 September indecent, he was shocked by the news, because at the time his family was dying, he was enjoying himself not knowing anything about what is happening to his family. He was questioning life, how meaningless it is and why he felt nothing.

In my case, I felt something a day before it happened. I had that dream couple of hours after accident without knowing about it, I felt something that I can not explain and I will never be able to explain. It made me wonder and wonder. So much so, when I got back home, I started to do research about it. let’s face it I am a scientist. I only believe in what I have evidence and clear proof for it. I needed to know that it wasn’t just a coincidence. In science we repeat the experiment to collect more data. That was not the case for me. So I should collect data in other ways. Finding other people who had the same experience. I got something out of it at the end which I will share it with you in my upcoming stories.

Although I was struggling with these thoughts, I was the one still needed to be strong, my family needed me, my sister the most. No time for me to heal or get at least some rest. Immediately after I got back, piles of work were waiting for me. Sympathy was the only thing I got for just first couple of days, and then nobody cared. How people around me specially my boyfriend, my boss and my supervisor were treating me subconsciously were destroying me. Work was the most important things for my boss. My boyfriend, he was piece of art, let me tell you the story how he made me happy or he thought so. I had my birthday coming up in couple of weeks after I returned. He told me that in polish culture you should organize your own birthday party. I didn’t want party and I didn’t feel like celebrating. He was insisting and asking what I wanted for my birthday, so I just wanted him to stop so I said surprise me. And he did surprise me by throwing me a party at the institute with all the experiment group with my supervisor and people I really didn’t feel comfortable with.

I had to put up fake smile and thanks everyone. 20 minutes and it was over. But before everyone left the room he told me sarcastically in front of everyone, “ you should take responsibility for your own birthday party as any grownup does”. I felt so humiliated. I though it might be because of difference in our cultures. I am from Iran and in my culture when someone looses a family member, she is grieving for forty days, friends are the ones who try to make her happy by visiting her. She also wears black clothes all the time, so it is customary after that 40 days, one of friends or relatives bring a new colorful piece of clothes for her and make her happy again. But we are all human being, when you loose your loved one doesn’t matter where are you from, you are grieving may be in different way. I didn’t want to live any more, the only thing kept me standing was my responsibility toward my sister. I had to be there for her, talk to her any chance I could get, more or less every single night, listen to her and give her hope. I didn’t have anyone to give me hope. I was the only one who was there for me. But as the things happened to me in the next years, I realized that it wasn’t enough.

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