Commemorating the Cramps

It's been exactly a year since that fateful day when my two friends and I thought that our lives had been cut short because of our over-ambitious senses of adventure. This year has taught me alot about the fragility of life, the ease at which it can be damaged, and the effort required to save it. I've had more medical attention than a car-crash victim, more paranoid thoughts than Michael Scofield, and more bad luck than a turkey on Christmas eve. But in a way I'm glad that everything I've been through this year has happened. Not only am I able to talk about it (most of it) during my medical interview coming up, but it has left a positive impact on my personality and character. The mental trauma I was left with after that mountain took its time to tighten its vice on my livelihood, and after the legs cramps had finally worn off, I found myself unable to sleep properly, think logically, my mood would often go to extremes of euphoria and depression, my thoughts would be racing, the boundary between fiction and reality had started to break down, and I'd "see" things in films, TV, newspapers and books... anywhere, to justify the weird thoughts that had materialised in my mind... hidden meanings. The only comparison I can draw this with is a scene from Doctor Who, when he hears two words; he suddenly can understand different languages, he draws reference from everything and in his mind the meaning is clear as crystal...



The mental state I was in was in a way felt new and exciting; to this day I could swear that I understood different languages; just for a bit of fun I changed the language of the Spongebob DVD I was watching to lots of different languages and I knew what they were saying, it was weird. But in a way all languages were materialised in the brain so there must be some area that's hardly accessed but stores language recognition abilities. Most of the time I felt afraid, and I became even more afraid when I was admitted to hospital, being exposed to patients who had schizophrenia, drug abuse problems, people I thought were possessed. Everyone I bumped into were slurring their speech and half-asleep, probably due to the medication they were on, the whole atmosphere of the ward felt away from the outside world; the doors were always locked, some patients would just pace up and down, down and up the corridors for hours; even I resorted to this in an attempt to just feel something. It felt like the streets in a GTA game where people wouldn't talk to you and just carry on in their pre-programmed course of walking in circles. The nights spent there were sleepless; I was afraid of the people there, some waking me up asking for cigarettes or drugs, others just curious as to what I was doing.

When I moved wards after a few days, the first night spent there completely freaked me out; it was like living in a subway, the stench of urine and the type of people I wouldn't dream of mixing with were all around me. This was a nightmare, and after a few winks of sleep I woke up to find a naked, obese, old man standing next to my bed. I was told (by quite a decent, seemingly-sane neighbour) that's what he usually did and he didn't mean any harm, so I left him to go back to his pornographic magazines and talking to himself. Whatever happened, I was determined not to spend another night in this bad dream, and sure enough, I managed to convince the doctor that I was sane enough to go home (even though I wasn't).


I remember one patient who completely frightened me; it was as if I was talking to a devil or an evil spirit or something. I managed to get into a situation where I was playing scrabble with her, and all the words she managed to make on the board were all murder-related or just freaky, and everytime she spoke to me she stared blank-faced and spoke coldly, no emotion apart from a hint of aggression. Even after leaving hospital, things got worse for me, but finally after around 8 months of treatment and therapy, I'm better, stronger, and I appreciate so much now. It's only when it's taken away from you do you truly appreciate it, and for some people, all they're clinging onto is their lives and their good health, and it's being taken away from them. For instance the airstrikes today on Gaza that killed more than 200 people; they've been deprived from electricity, food, freedom, medical care and finally their lives are being taken away, and what is the response from the world? Nothing. The price of life differs depending on who you are and where you're from. If you happen to be a tourist in Mumbai, you get a minute's silence. If you happen to be an American/Western citizen, you get lots of outrage, a minute's silence, and a memorial piece of art. If you fall into any other category, you'd be lucky to get mentioned on the news as a figure, and then forgotten. What I've learnt is that life shapes itself around you sometimes in ways that you don't want or expect, but accept it, be happy with it, and move on. It may improve, it may not, but just remember there are always people worse off than you.