Drunk on Sunshine and Smells

I awoke that morning feeling rested. That on itself was a miracle to me. Throwing off the covers, not having remembered my dream, I sauntered into the shower. Building these habits was still a work in progress, but having finally asked for the help I needed things were getting easier. Nights were getting easier specifically. I had always known that proper sleep would be my key to healing, but was surprised, halfway through my shower, to realize that my soap smelled of lavender.

Accepting help, pursuing post traumatic growth, seemed like a pipedream for so long. I had resigned to living in my living nightmare for the rest of the life that I could handle before I finally built up my courage. I was still afraid of the color I had gained in recent days, the energy I suddenly felt, the nausea that had left, that they were all a temporary respite before my truth came biting once more. But today I would smell like lavender.

I guess every day for the last three weeks I had smelled like lavender, but today I had gained one more color in my world. I had never realised that my sense of smell had been so weak until that moment, and I had never considered just how vibrantly other people lived. The aroma was so strong it made me stagger back as water pelted down around me, consuming my elation in white noise and steady tactile comfort. I slathered myself in the product, drinking in the returning sense that I had lost so many years ago and allowing steady, deep breaths to wash over me. The sheer newness threatened to send me into hyperventilation and overwhelm, two things I had so rarely experienced in such a positive light, but I used my new-found tricks to maintain my consciousness and clear head.

After rinsing all lathers from my skin I ran from the shower, clad in the nude, to my cat. He was standing in the adjacent bedroom on the newly ruffled bed, presumably awaiting my return so we could rot together, as we did most days when I was sick. Instead I grabbed his little head in both of my hands, brought my face down to him, and took a large whiff. To his dismay my still wet face soiled the top of his head as I breathed in the subtle sweetness of his fur. He wiggled away and I let him with no protest, but I used that moment to turn on my heel and get dressed, narrowly missing the swat of his paw. His confusion did nothing to diminish the ever growing grin that was splitting my face for the first time in a while. Through the kind of therapy I had been pursuing I had assumed I would feel better more quickly, but often you must re-open an infected wound and drain the infection, and that process could be incredibly painful and take a good chunk of time it turns out.

On the contrary, I had spent the last couple of weeks in tears, angry at the adults that had allowed those things to happen, angry at myself for being too small and weak to stop them. I had been feeling for the first time in my life. I was not allowing myself to turn over and distract myself, and it had been utterly painful. It was the hardest thing I had ever done, and I had been dedicated for weeks at this point. Today was one of my first large wins.

I selected a workout set before barreling into the kitchen to grab a banana and fill my water bottle, making sure both would fit in my fanny pack with my keys. I had barely allowed myself a moment to tell my cat I would be back home soon before I threw open my front door and exited, anticipating where I would go first.

Initially I was hit with a wave of fresh scents that I had not known to expect. The goal was to seek out local flowers, but the earth just outside my home smelled of rich dirt and hot asphalt. Grass, even not freshly mowed, apparently had a scent as well. They all licked at my senses and I fought the urge to creep closer to even the most mundane things, only stopped by the ever looming threat of a neighbor catching me.

Instead I began my walk, allowing for but a few blinks of surprise to exist alongside my all encompassing smile. Shade from trees kept me safe from the rays of the sun for a few blocks as I stopped at the flower bushes that lined each neighbor’s mailboxes. None of the flora I recognized, as I had never given them much thought before, but all of which smelled divine. I took a moment to finally understand why people yearn for flowers and to promise myself that I would adorn my home with them someday.

The grass, dirt, asphalt, flowers, even my still lingering lavender soap filled my nose and my mind, allowing for a cacophony of pride. I had earned this through hard work and perseverance. I deserved this moment, this sensation, and even as that ever present fear tried to creep into my throat I shuttered it with a simple idea:

Even if this is for but a short time, even if I have no hope of such a normal existence, I have earned it for today.

I threw my head back, laughter pouring out of my lips, as I ran into an adjacent meadow. The sun beat down on my skin, threatening to burn me, but I did not hear it as I laid and gulped down fresh, fragrant air through my cackle. Surrounded by the new experience I had earned and finally earning back the life I had stolen from me I rested, not rotting in my bed, but held by my earth. I let my smile beam farther than the rays of the sun and I let myself be light, for the journey was far from over, but I was drunk on a taste of where it would lead.