Grace’s Hidden Pain

She sat there, lost in thought, a shadow of her usual vibrant self, her characteristic radiant smile nowhere to be found. We exchanged pleasantries and some updates on a matter that had been on my radar. She responded weakly, acknowledging awareness and explaining her actions to the relevant person. Her lips tried to conjure a smile, but her eyes betrayed her true feelings. They glistened with unshed tears as she fought valiantly to hold them back, a battle she lost fast, tears rolling as her hand reached for the cleanex box.Concern gnawed at me as I leaned in, the door to her room slightly ajar. I couldn’t fathom what had turned this bold and bubbly lady into someone so sad, visibly bordering on despondent. Uncertain about how to proceed, I did the only sensible thing I could – I asked.

“Are you okay?” I inquired, my heart aching for her.

What followed left me both bewildered and deeply troubled. It was as though my question was the key that unlocked the floodgates of her tears. She sobbed uncontrollably, her body trembling with words escaping her lips incoherently. Without hesitation, I drew closer, my arms enveloping her shoulders. In that silence, my embrace conveyed what words could not – a comforting presence, despite my ignorance of her pain’s cause. The moment seemed to stretch on for an eternity, though it was merely a matter of minutes.

Eventually, Grace grew still. I held on! Then, as if suddenly aware that she had displayed a weakness, a part of her she held close to conceal any form of pain, she turned to face me with a deceptive air of confidence. Seemingly, she had sensed my impending question about discussing her troubles and to halt me in my tracks, she uttered with finality,, “I will be fine,” a statement that implied a desire for space. I let her be.

Grace is a pleasant lady. She is the epitome of joy and mirth. With her tall, sturdy frame juxtaposed against an astonishingly youthful face, she effortlessly becomes the center of attention wherever she goes. She exudes a child-like charm that makes her seamlessly blend into any setting, for both adults and children alike. Given this, you can imagine the depth of my concern for her.As the day wore on, I hoped for a follow-up conversation, so I returned to her room after a while. Although she looked somewhat better, a discerning eye could still see the pain etched across her features. It was a kind of anguish only those who had experienced it could truly grasp – the type that robs you of joy, suffocates you, and feels like your last breath is being wrestled away. A sensation so overwhelming that you long for release, strangled by the weight of it all. It was a contradiction of sorts considering she is a physically well-endowed lady, such a big body yet so subdued by whatever was breaking her resolve to stay strong.I reached out to Grace, and as if on cue, she broke down once more, this time with even greater intensity, struggling to regain control. I locked the door to ensure her privacy, and she began to pour her heart out. Her expressions were deeply concerning, her words sharp and heavy.

“I am tired,” she whispered, her voice trembling.”No one cares about me,” she continued, tears streaming down her face.”They only take, take, and take,” she cried.”I am so drained, Jay. I’m done,” she confessed.”I have no one to turn to,” she admitted, her voice choked with emotion.”Mom is toxic …I can’t breathe,” she said, barely able to get the words out.”I can’t think,” she added.”I need space to reorganize, or I’m done,” she concluded, her words hanging heavy in the air.Summoning a brave disposition and a reassuring smile, I tried to assure her that she possessed immense strength and would overcome whatever challenges she faced. Yet, deep down, I harboured doubts about my own words.

Witnessing someone who had exuded positivity and vitality for the over five years I had known her, crumble before my eyes was profoundly unsettling. Questions raced through my mind. How much had she struggled to maintain a façade of happiness and contentment? What had pushed her to the brink?To borrow from Chinua Achebe, clearly ‘the center could no longer hold as things were falling apart” I knew I had to take action, and fast. So, I sought help. Eventually help came, unconventionally but it was help nonetheless.

Recovery to her wholesome self would take a while. It did not matter. All I cared about was that she got the support she desperately needed. Amidst all this, I wondered how many men and women walked this Earth, battling inner demons and waging wars they couldn’t comprehend. How many might never find rescue from the brink of despair? There were no answers to these rhetorical questions, but I knew I had to find a way to make sense of the world. Would I?That day, in all its beauty and wonder, revealed a bittersweet truth: That behind our masks of splendour, within our grand homes and glorious vehicles, despite our sumptuous meals, many hearts lie shattered. What should we do with this knowledge? Stop living? The Earth asks nothing more of us than kindness toward one another, for we never truly know the battles people are fighting. Our actions can either be their source of hope or their final descent into darkness.Grace… she will rise again, her sunny smile once more illuminating every room she enters.