Triumph Over Turmoil: Psychology of Overcoming Adversity

Introduction:

Saying I’ve faced a lot of adversity growing up is unfair, considering I grew up with people who had it much worse than me. To be frank, on paper, I had a perfect life; I had loving parents, a supportive family, and a plethora of fantastic friends, not to mention I was one of the star athletes and did great in school. However, behind the scenes, it was a whole different story. My newfound popularity had divulged me into a life of partying and substance abuse. Considering I never let that life intermingle with my outward appearance, I was still able to portray the “Golden Child” image. This all changed when I began the 9th grade.

Unveiling the Mask: The Hidden Struggles Beyond the Facade

The summer previous to my 9th grade year, I spent the majority of my summer in India, having the time of my life. As the end of this trip approached, I fell ill with a viral illness called Dengue-Fever Type 2, which caused me to hemorrhage internally. I had to enter a few weeks late because I wasn’t allowed to travel with said Illness. Although this situation had kind of impacted my wanting to return to school, I was also very excited to return. This was because of my person. This person was the only one I let see past the charismatic, outgoing persona I faked so well. She saw me in my most vulnerable state and showed me kindness and compassion when I thought no one could. She was the most important person in my life at that time, and I really wanted to go back to the States just to meet her.

A Life-Altering Trip: The Catalyst for Change

After I recovered, I came back to the United States and started to resume my life, which meant school. I approached the building, and as I was walking, I started to notice the air, much cleaner than where I was during my Illness. My sickness had made me weak, so with great force, I pulled open the door to the school and entered; as soon as I entered, I began to make sense of it all, the smells of different colognes and perfumes, the indistinct and blended chatter of many people, the visible and understandable joy of friends laughing and conversing. I felt at home once again, although my brief peace was distinctly interrupted by the collective shouting of my name.

One friend exclaimed, ‘Sai!!”

‘We missed you, you crazy son of a bitch.’ Another said

It all overwhelmed me, and I started to tear up; I was home, and I was talking to some of the most important people in my life. I received and responded to their greetings, but class was about to start, so I headed to the office to figure out my schedule. Upon entering, I was greeted by my counselor.

‘Hello Sai, welcome, how are you feeling?’

‘Fine, ma’am, how are you?’

‘Great, sweetie.’ ‘Let’s get you to your classes.’

That word, ‘classes,’ made my stomach twist; I had forgotten why I had hated school so much. But I realized that with a positive attitude, I would attempt to make this year my favorite year. Continuing, she handed me my schedule and began to walk me to classes, as well as assign me a buddy who could take me to my other classes. I began my day.

The day was quite easy. I met my teachers, and after a couple of jokes and conversations, I had my routine, but as I was going through my day, my mind began to wander; I was thinking of my person and how all I wanted was to see her. The final bell rang, and I raced out of the building; I went directly home, showered, and went to her house. I rang her doorbell, and she opened the door.

‘Holy crap, you’re home.’ She screamed

‘I missed you so much.’ I responded

‘What? When? Are you ok?’

‘I’ll tell you later.’

Her parents weren’t home, so she pulled me in. We tried talking, but each of us could barely get through a sentence without a kiss interrupting us. After the excitement had passed, we lay in her soft bed. Her smooth skin was on mine as I ran my hands through her silky hair. After exchanging pleasantries, she began to talk about some real stuff.

“I know what happened there, and I’m not happy with it, but I’m willing to forget it.’

I thought to myself, ‘What did she find out about, the partying or the drugs or the fights or what?’

As we continued to talk about what I was doing there, I felt extremely bad about the stress I placed upon her, with my constant partying followed by immense sickness.

‘I’ll make it up to you.’ I said

‘You better.’ She responded

Later that night, I went home and went immediately to bed. A few hours later, I was woken up by my annoying ringtone. Groggily, I grabbed my phone and read the caller ID. ‘Mom’. Wondering what she could have wanted this late at night, I picked up.

‘Hello’

She responded with distress in her voice, “Sai.”

‘Mom, what’s wrong?’

I could barely understand her over the sniffles and sobs, but three clear words hit me hard and clear, ‘Your brother died.’

I was in shock, and I rushed to my parent’s bedroom.

‘Why him, he was so young?!!’ My mom screamed as tears flowed down her face.

I asked, ‘How, Mom?’

‘A drunk driver hit him.’ She could barely get the words out due to the intense crying.

The next morning, my sister informed me they left for India to proceed with funeral plans.

‘How could they leave me alone with this pain ?’ I thought. I decided to ignore the occupational thoughts. I went to school that day, but it was a different atmosphere. I felt as if the world that surrounded me was gloomy.

‘Hey, I heard what happened. Are you ok?’ One friend said

‘I’m so sorry, Sai; I’m here for you.’ Another said

I heard this all day, and I ignored all of it when finally my person came up to me.

‘How are you feeling, babe?’

I ignored her and told her to get out of my way. Her eyes began to water, but I simply didn’t care.

Hours without interaction turned into days; my charismatic and playful demeanor soon turned into a cold and steely one. The bottled-up darkness was seeping into my life; Grades were set on a downward spiral, as well as my social life and happiness.

The following night, I received a call; it was my person.

‘Hi,’ she said

I responded with, ‘Hello’. She began to cry over the phone, and in the back of my mind, I knew what was coming.

‘Sai, I can’t do this anymore; I can’t take you not talking to me or acknowledging me; I’m done.’

I hung up. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to her; it’s just every time I tried to, it felt as if my mouth was filled with cement. That night was the worst of it all. The center of my universe was gone; I had no reason to be happy or good, I had no faith or love, and I was alone.

Visibly, I was devastated; my social interactions were minimal, and my face never had a smile on it anymore. A kid that I walked by every day noticed. I was walking down the hallway when he pulled me to the side.

‘Hey. I can make all of your problems go away for 5$,’ He promised.

I was intrigued; I wondered if I could make this feeling of self-hatred go away and If the price for happiness was only 5$. I pulled out five dollars and handed it to him. He pulled out a baggie with a pill in it and handed it to me. Keep in mind I had loads of experience with using substances to alleviate physical and mental pain.

‘Go into the bathroom and take this.’ He told me. So I followed his directions.

I went into the bathroom, opened the baggie, and popped the pill. I felt its hard shape on my tongue; its heavy, bitter taste filled my mouth. I decided to swallow it fast, and a burning sensation followed. Nothing happened, and I was beginning to wonder if he ripped me off, and then, like a truck, it hit me. The immense weight on my shoulders was lifted, and I felt as if I was surrounded by a cloud of happiness. My once tense body was now as loose and fluid as water. As I exited the bathroom, I was able to talk to everyone with ease, and I didn’t have a care in the world. The last thing I remember is going home, and after that, I blanked.

Slowly regaining consciousness, I stood up from my bed. As soon as I was on my feet, the extreme pain came back; I felt as if I was burning from the inside out. I came down, and the pain from before was even worse now. I needed more of this wonder drug. I met the guy the next day at school. I grabbed him in the morning and handed him more than half of all of my savings.

‘Bro, this will get you 150 pills at least.’ He said, surprised.

‘I’ll take it,’ I eagerly exclaimed

He put the noisy pill bottles in my bag. I started with one a day, but the cycle repeated; when I came down, I felt even worse than the last time I wasn’t high. I began taking two a day, and as my tolerance went up, I began taking more and more. I achieved it; I was always high and, therefore, always happy. Life became a conglomerate of taking pills and spending money on pills. Time blurred, and days all blended into one continual feeling of ecstasy. And I was finally happy, or so I thought.

One night, my dealer called me, and he asked if I wanted to party. Of course, I said yes. I went over to his house.

‘Welcome, what will you have to drink.’ He asked

‘I want to get shit-faced.’ I responded

He handed me a large glass bottle filled with a foul-smelling concoction of liquors. I took a sip, and an awful burning sensation went through my body. It felt as if I was being drowned in paint stripper.

Later on, he asked, ‘Do you have your pills, Sai?’

‘Of course, bro, I never leave without them.’

We went to the municipal park and sat in my dealer’s beaten-down Honda Civic.

‘I bet you won’t take five at one time, Sai.’ He said

‘What could go wrong? I thought. I took out five green pills and swallowed them; a feeling of tiredness overcame me, and I dropped the pill bottle. A little while later, I heard a conversation.

‘F*ck, f*ck, he od’d’

‘We are going to get into so much trouble.

Emerging from the Darkness: Triumph and Transformation

I began to hear running in the other direction. Not long after, my eyes began to shut again. I thought to myself, ‘I’m going to die in this car.’ My eyelids felt heavy, and darkness overtook me again. Slowly, I woke up; the night was dead quiet; I was surrounded by silence, and this dead night was broken by my body’s violent convulsions. The humid air and smell of bile in the car knocked me out again. Finally, I came down off the drugs for the first time in a long time. A feeling of heavy grief overtook me; the pain was straight from hell itself. I realized the artificial feeling of relief and happiness the pill gave me caused me to push everyone and everything away. This savior pill led me deeper into the hole I was in when I thought it was actually carrying me out. The pill that I thought was going to save me actually ended me.

I somehow managed to drag myself home. Following this event began a series of revelations. The first and foremost was, did I really want to continue living my life in a continual self-thrown pity party and take the cowardly way out whenever faced with any adversity in my life? I decided that night I would begin working to change my life.

The first step was to completely cut out any and all substances that I was using; I began to flush the numerous drugs down the toilet, knowing this would be the last time I would ever see them again. Next, I began to detox; this part was excruciatingly painful. I had constant headaches and, even worse, physical aversions to my body, purging the numerous toxins that plagued my body. Slowly but surely, I was starting to get better; my grades were improving, and for the first time in weeks, I actually managed to crack a smile while sober. The following weeks were comparatively easier, but I always had that lingering urge to take some sort of substance. What kept me strong, however, was my want to genuinely succeed in life in all aspects, including mentally, physically, and economically. A few months passed, and for once, I was actually pleased with myself; I was wrestling varsity as a freshman, I had straight A’s in all of my classes, and I was truly away from all drugs.

Although everything was going well in my life, I knew I had to deal with the original underlying problem, the grief of my brother passing away. I started attending counseling sessions. These sessions went very well, and I finally allowed myself to properly grieve and let go of all that angst I had bottled up.

It has now been over two years since I’ve even looked at a drug, and I am doing wonderful. I’m in all AP or college-based curricula, constantly challenging myself to improve, whether it be physically, mentally, or emotionally. I’ve achieved tremendous accomplishments, but I’m still not done. Hopefully, all this hard work will pay off, and eventually, I can help kids who were faced with the same challenge I was, teaching them the correct ways to cope, as well as confiding in their support system, whether that be their parents, friends, or even a liked teacher; something I never did.

Conclusion:

To conclude, I would like to say that if I had the chance, I would choose to go through all of it again. Would it have been nice to change a few things? Sure, I would’ve loved to have confided in my parents because I know they could have helped me get through these situations in a much more efficient manner, and considering I’m their son, I’m sure they would’ve really wanted to know all the things I went through. Would I have liked to go back to when I gave that person 5$ for an artificial release and slap myself over the head? Absolutely. However, this adversity made me who I am today: the strong, hardworking, and persevering person I always knew I could be.

Rupi Kaur’s poems remind women of their own personal power. Her work is almost an imploration for action to women everywhere to accept themselves and celebrate womanhood. Kaur shows how being a woman can be power, something that she and many other women do not recognize in their own lives. In World Literature this semester, I want to gain knowledge and understanding of different types of writing. I want to be able to not only analyze text but really understand it. A book is so much more than words; there is a whole other meaning beneath them. That is something I have not always paid attention to, but it is a skill I would like to gain from this class.