Pondering Mortality

The last photo tagged of me on Facebook is of me at an art museum, looking at a painting that was titled "Pondering Mortality." Really ominous, right?

Lately I have been pondering not mortality, but recovery. What does it look like for me to fully heal from The Incident? I think I've developed new fears that I'd never previously had. I have new anxieties and hypervigilance and mental barriers that I need to overcome on an hourly basis. The only other time I've had such a traumatic incident was probably getting mugged in junior year at Berkeley. It took weeks for me to feel safe again and months for me to stop thinking about it. It's a little different when the unknown destructive force lies dormant within your own brain, so this is in many ways a new experience for me. I've also never come close to my own death before, and so I suppose that is new as well. 

The mind tries to protect itself in strange ways, and I need to believe that this is all part of the normal recovery process.

Also, everyone close to me seems to be having a collectively delayed reaction. I received a really distressing and heartbreaking text from my parents this morning. They regret not coming to me immediately, even though I'm a capable and independent individual, I am still alone and very, very far from home. They are thankful to God that I survived. They're proud of me.  My mom said that they both cried last night. I've only seen my dad cry once in my life, and that was when he left after moving me into my apartment in Iowa. I hadn't stopped to think too much about how my parents were feeling, and I guess it's been ripped open and raw now. Not sure what to do with it. I wish I could be home this very instant and comfort them for a change.