Writings from the vault: Aftermath
I’m supposed to feel safe. Relieved. but all I feel is lost.
The fire has finally died down. There is no danger hiding in the shadows.
It’s like for a period of time, I was fueled by adrenaline, not blood. My breaths propelled by panic, not my lungs.
My body does not know how to exist in safe spaces, it is malfunctioning. Fatigue comes during the day, but it leaves me at night. My mind, once a problem-solving machine, now has trouble following a train of thought.
A boat adrift in a calm sea.
I no longer know how to be.
The fire has finally died down. There is no danger hiding in the shadows.
It’s like for a period of time, I was fueled by adrenaline, not blood. My breaths propelled by panic, not my lungs.
My body does not know how to exist in safe spaces, it is malfunctioning. Fatigue comes during the day, but it leaves me at night. My mind, once a problem-solving machine, now has trouble following a train of thought.
A boat adrift in a calm sea.
I no longer know how to be.
36-40
