The funny thing about the whole experience is that it shows how language breaks down.

Legit, there are no words to sufficiently describe the experience. And no amount of "I'm sorry"s does any good. That's not me trying to be mean, that's just a fact. Trust me, I've tried to make language about it work. Here. And here. And here, too. But neither of the languages I speak are sufficiently equipped to allow me or anyone else who was there to effectively paint that picture.

Now, I'm pretty vocal about it, and occasionally chime in (like now) on how isolating not the experience itself but the lack of sufficient linguistic tools to effectively communicate the experience to others that weren't there and thus find some sort of solace can be. That's why media on the event tends to be pretty aggravating - it doesn't recognize that it can't possibly understand, and makes implicit demands of those who were there to make futile efforts to explain.

But the vast majority of those who were there don't talk about it. Trauma does that generally, but then this is Japan which has a long history of self-effacement and minimal mental health resources. I guarantee you that this issue hasn't been addressed properly at all, and that there are thousands of people out there with lingering demons from the wave's aftermath.

Incidentally, while I was into extreme music long before 3/11, underground shows were an invaluable resource for me to cope with stuff and get back "into" social scenes. Thus the handle, TokyoMetal.