I must have fallen asleep on my couch after having gone through a one evening binge with one of the “friends” I had left from my outings. I needed food and someone to talk real with, and to no surprise he listened and fed me. We had a ball, but he couldn’t deliver any advice or give me anything worth soothing my soul.

My morning was filled with regret, yet at least I was not dishonest this time.

Walking up the stairs of blood, dripping in a way I had gotten used to, I was looking for something new to me. Something that is not within my general bag of tricks.

Steps went by, flights – but eventually I found a blue/red door with rhythmic patterns. Lines that were parallel but bent around the centre and I found that somehow alluring.

It opened to an extension above a world of near nothingness – simply pulsating of colour around a white middle that had faint outlines of a head that had its eyes closed as if meditating.

Returning to the staircase was too depressing and there was nothing to do really, but jump into it – so I leaped.

In a rush it was as though I had become that solemn mind and I was overtaken by all the different sides to me in a sea of voices.

As I tried to make sense of it all and after about 10 minutes of calming down, some of the voices got bodily form and some stood out more than others.

One in particular seemed to be the organiser, me the thinker and the rest all my aspects. It dawned on me that I had needed such a real analysis of my mind and heart in conjunction – for I often neglect listening to emotions when they seem merely too far away to get to or just blatantly preposterous.

For a while I could not believe the tumultuous things that were going on inside me and it took about half an hour of diligent coordination to realize how guilty I felt, how powerless I was, how lost and ashamed at my actions.

I found hope in realizations of having been stuffed into a corner, being heartbroken, having to live it out and just not have to deal with the severity of my situation for a bit.

I felt better and sensed that I could operate more constructively and start getting back to an old self.

I had lived in denial for a bit, then realization and then complete disconnection. Hatred and discombobulation had gotten the better of me and I think this is what the dark wanted – if I think about it.

We were so full of pride and all of us probably had the rug pulled out from under us. The weird thing is that I feel as though I needed something like it to get to terms with how lucky I was. Now its time to get back there – get on the path to reunion.

I spent the rest of the time I had in analysis of details that were bothering me, checking how my mind worked and figured out some nifty things here and there, but like most meditation sessions go – you eventually lose your temper with yourself as patience runs out or you fall asleep. It was a mixture of the two and I lost interest in losing my temper and I drifted into something like sleep.

It was wonderful and I awoke to my room with the sun shining through the windows.

I felt good.