Finally, the static in my head and the blur of insanity in my home have granted me a much needed reprieve, and I can just exist for a while. I've never understood those whose emotional recouperation is facilitated by the company of others; every voice in this house is a scream that echos over and over in my head, every footstep is laced with the fear that they herald another intrusion into my sanctuary… and there are so many people here.
Today, finally, I've been alone. As the front door slammed for the last time, the silence that followed was the most beautiful sound I could imagine. I'm still not yet in my right mind; I may not yet fully understand the damage I've done to my psyche, and for all of my studies in psychology and pharmacology, I am finding the jarring, ambling journey back to reality to be the most introspectively fascinating "experiment" on the subject in which I've taken part. (Though perhaps soul-crushing or torturous would be more accurate descriptions)
That being said, sitting here in the stillness of my room, listening to all this beautiful silence, I can honestly say that for the first time I can recall in nearly five years, I feel centered and at peace. Feeling like myself again, if even for a moment, was an awe-inspiring relief… I can't think of any better gift for my two-week mark than the long awaited answer to the question which had been filling me with fear ever since I sobered: with everything else this cost me, did I lose my mind too?
Thankfully, it seems I just left my brain in my other head rather than losing it, and I look forward to finding my way back to where I am meant to be… For now, I'm just going to give my soul the nourishment it needs, and right now, that is to sit and enjoy my peaceful moment while it lasts.
Farewell for today.