I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else. I could hear the wind in the trees. I could close my eyes and feel the movements of the night rippling through my spine. I could listen to the sound of my heart, the sound of my blood, the sound of the machine beneath my skin. I could open my eyes and stare at the TV lights strobing on the ceiling, imagining the flashes of a storm lit sky. Or I could just lie there, perfectly still, doing absolutely nothing.
But after a while this feeling wore off and it wasn’t fun anymore. All those small things that seemed so comforting were the very things that drove me nuts. After a while I was drained. There was nothing there, no recognition, no awareness, no self. My eyes were cold and empty. I could stare right through people. I became isolated and lifeless.
There is something about feeling so careless, like nothing in the world matters. All anxieties and fears become meaningless. It feels great, you feel free like the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders.
I can honestly say I am happy about where I am. I don’t regret my past like I did before. I have come to accept it. It has made me who I am today. Of course I have done things I’m not proud of, but I am who I am. My past has made me be a better person. I have learned, and I am still learning. But instead of loathing the future I am looking forward to it.