in the midst of all the work i have done and am doing, silence still brings me to a standstill. when i am home alone and quiet enough to realize just how silent living alone can be, it brings a panic to my chest. there are many benefits to living alone and i absolutely value the space to continue working on me. but there are moments that it is painful. there are moments when i feel like my heart will jump out of my chest. and the silence will make my ears bleed.

yesterday was a good example of this. i had a beautiful weekend that i was fortunate to share with a loved one and my space felt alive with laughter, conversation, and other sweet sounds. yesterday evening, i sat trying to get a few things done and wanting nothing more than to take a nap, but the silence of my house so overwhelmed me that it was hard to breathe. in all honesty, it pissed me off. just as it is pissing me off right now as i write about it. it felt as if the fear it uprooted tried to take away from the blessing of the weekend. and that is something i will not, can not allow it to do.

but how do i come to terms with the silence? how can i make it safe? perhaps this is part of the work i must still do? i don’t know the answer to this one. a part of me wonders if there is a part of me that needs to voices of others to be a part of my household? does desiring the energy of others make me any less independent? is this something i need to consider or am i just scared?