I never lost my identity. I just lost connection to it.

The transmission of who I am to who I had to be became garbled or encrypted. The algorithms of my being and behavior had been corrupted and I had no internal safeguard or protection from losing them. Chaos had slivered in, content to steal their place.

I blamed the means—there must have been a fray somewhere in the wire. It must have been spliced somewhere along the way. The significant throughput of my identity had to have been channeled off into some oblivion of my mind that I could not access. What was left of the the signal was so attenuated that it couldn’t be deciphered. I didn’t realize that it was me flickering in.

I never lost my identity. I just lost connection to it. And at the same time, I could tell that there was an identity that should be mine, but only beause of the void it left for me to flail and thrash inside of–always looking for perimeters, parameters, for who I was and never finding any boundaries.

I never truly lost my identity and I know that now because I can see myself beaming through. I watch myself, and how I am. I listen to myself about who I want to be. I experience familiar dreams and aspirations and their legend leads me to the dark place where my self had been forced to hide.

I am healing that lifeline now, using every intermediary available. And I feel friend’s, and familiy’s eyes and smiles that still shine the way they did before and they reassure me that I have returned, activated.

Thank you all.