Emi Arai-Saito

I was sitting in the back passenger seat when my life changed in an instant.

Waking up with no recollection of what had happened, or how I had ended up lying stiff in a hospital bed, was the scariest time of my life. After intensive physical, occupational, and speech therapy, I relearned how to walk, talk, and use the bathroom—things medical staff once feared I may never be able to do again.

But that was only the beginning. Once I was strong enough, my family told me the truth about what had happened that day. Sadly, I was the only one who survived.

I am a sole survivor of a fatal car accident that left me in a five-week coma. To have survived what I did feels unimaginable, and for years I tried to prove to myself that I could continue living as I had before—as if I could somehow return to being neurotypical. The reality is that I now live with a neurodivergent brain, and learning to accept that has been part of my journey.

If I had to describe what living with a TBI, PTSD, and survivor’s guilt feels like in one word, it would be waves.

The guilt comes in waves—sometimes quietly, sometimes unexpectedly, and sometimes with enough force to pull me right back to the moment my life changed forever.

If sharing my story can help someone living with a traumatic brain injury (TBI) or survivor’s guilt feel understood and less alone, then sharing it makes my own journey feel even more meaningful.