Safe and Alone

I have these weeks that I fold into myself. The world becomes too loud. The feelings and emotions of others are oceans that are no longer swimable.

I spend my days alone in quiet spaces occasionally spending time with 1 or 2 people that feel like home. Even after a short amount of time their words and actions become too loud.

I listen and honour the parts of me that need to step away.

The quiet provides a comfort similar to the warmth of my mothers arms.

I retreat. I learn. I grow. I observe. I attempt to battle unwanted emotions.

I process. I heal.

The water calms, I am able to swim again. But not too quickly. I dip a toe in to see if the water is warm and to see if it’s safe.

The process feels as if it was a slow psychedelic ride.