Pretext: If you have been tuning in to the news lately, reports of a category 5 hurricane might have popped up. A category 5 (highest possible) hurricane is characterized as a catastrophic natural disaster. This one was called hurricane Maria. The result of Maria was sickening, and I just want to share how surviving it, changed me.

Body: You can called it PTSD, but I called it waking up.

I am Asian American, 5’11’’, college graduate, medical student, etc. My life for the longest time revolved around school and girls. My biggest worried was failing an exam, getting rejected, or being alone. My family was a bit dysfunctional, like many, but I recognize that I had it better than most.

Like many American, I(we), lived in a bubble called society which shields us from illness, starvation, and natural events in which our ancestor had to face on a daily basis. It had made us weak. I didn’t realize how weak and easy we had it until recently.

On the night of Sept. 18 to the early morning of Sept. 19, it happened. My friend and I, we were drinking and he was smoking on the balcony of our apartment. We were on the island of Dominica at the time. Now, the island of Dominica is called the Nature Island, because most of it is uninhabited and dominated by wild life and animals. It is a beautiful island. It is also a the poorest country in the Caribbean. Imagine, dirt roads and broken down bridges for miles at points. Wooden homes and cattle roaming about. So if something catastrophic happens, you are basically fucked because rescue and medical assistance were islands away.

As my friend let off the last puff of cigarette and flicked it from his fingers. From out the corners of our eyes, it flew 100 meters to the next buildings. We didn’t know it at the time because our house was sheilding us from the storm, but the wind was there, and it was getting stronger.

At exactly 8:45 p.m. we took shelter in the corner of our room, huddled together like scared children as the cracking doors and windows were only getting stronger. This went on for 2 hours before we heard our roof starting to shake. In an instant, half of our roof got torn apart, and whatever remains were hurdling towards us at deadly speed. Out of the remains, and from the ripped wall, we caught glimpse of street sign ripped from the ground and trees stripped of any greens. It was absolute terror, and I felt abosutely helpless.

Our home was no longer safe, but we couldn’t just leave, because anything flying at those speed could leave us permanently impaired or dead if struken. We were stuck, and terrified. In the madness, we found solace in the eye of the storm. In calming winds, we scurried like animal for new shelter. A local saw us and offered shelter (bless his soul). I don’t remember what happened next, but it seemed like I blacked out for a few minutes. When I woke, the floor was covered in 1 foot of water. The outside was even worse, and water kept pouring in. We attempted to pour buckets of water out, but nothing helped. Mind you, we were on a small island in the Caribbean, and help was not coming. We were on our own. Our desperate attempts at draining the water went on for what seemed like an eternity.

It was now Sept. 19th, 3:10 a.m., the crackling wind was slowly yielding. But, the worst was yet to come. In the following days, I witnessed a sight from the end of the world. Complete devastation. The lush green mountains were now hollowed over in brown mess. Houses destroyed, people displaced. Any store left standing was looted to the ground. It was a trying time, and I understand that everyone just want to survive. Day after day, food and water become scarcer. All I can say is that, while the surviving the ordeal was hard, living the aftermath was worst. You can smell the shit in the air because water supplies and draining were destroyed. Electricity was down on the whole island. Telecommunications were offline. Livestock’s were dead. The fact was, we had no clean water, no way of communicating to the outside world, and no sources of fresh food. It was even worse for the locals and their families. Many had died, and those who survived have nothing but their lives left.

I can’t begin to describe the aftermath and the turmoil for natives of Dominica, that would take another post, but I will leave it to you to imagine. Everything gone, hopeless. I was fortunate, however, I managed to survive the following 7 days post-storm off of ramen noodle and coconut. I used a machete to get the meat and coconut water. Helped arrived a week later, and reporters and helicopter occupied the scene.

As a non-Dominican, I had a home to return to, but I can not say the same for the locals. This was their home, and now it’s gone.

During my last week in Dominica, my only thought was how do I survive to the next few days. It was all that mattered. I was not angry, sad, nothing. I just wanted to survive. Waiting for, if, and when help would come. The waiting and the uncertainty of what will happen next was the hardest part. The uncertainty is maddening. Help did eventually arrived, accompanied by many sigh of relief and tears.

Days after arriving home, and back into society. I was angry. I was angry when I would hear the minor bickering, the simple chit-chat and complaints of societal life. It had seem so petty in comparison, when all you want to do is survive. I felt changed, I felt that the simple life I had known was shattered. I don’t think many people would understand, but it feels like you are holding a gun while everyone is playing knives. I felt like I was ready to pop off on anyone who looked or gestured me in the wrong way.

I feel more aggressive, decisive, stronger, and mentally harden by the ordeal.

This has gotten way longer than I wanted, even after I exempted many details of the ordeal. In the end, I feel harden. I can barely give a fuck now about the daily struggles. They are small.

This post is meant to be my catharsis, but also demonstrate that regardless of what you are going through. When you are ready to embrace it, everything else becomes secondary and you will become more of a man for it. Decisive, aggressive, and focus.