A voice that survived

“I Was There – A Voice That Survived”

I was there.

I remember.

I walked into it, not knowing—

and I came out carrying everything.

I was there.

I remember.

Following love, following life—

into something I did not understand.

They watched.

They followed.

I felt it growing—

a shadow behind every step.

I was there.

I remember.

The fear said: you will not survive.

But I am still here.

⸻

I tried to leave.

I tried to go home.

Back to Fredrikstad, back to roots—

but my mind was breaking.

Say it with me:

It was not my fault.

Say it again:

It was not my choice.

I was caught in it.

Lost in it.

Fighting something I could not see.

⸻

Voices, systems, networks, noise—

too much, too fast, too real.

A world collapsing inside me,

while the outside stood still.

Pandemic silence—

but inside: chaos.

Time stretched—

seconds felt like years.

I was there.

I remember.

⸻

They hurt me.

Body and mind.

No safety, no rest, no ground to stand on.

Say it with me:

I deserved to live.

Say it again:

I deserved to be safe.

⸻

I fell.

Again and again.

Hospitals, walls, systems—

but still no peace.

My body breaking.

My liver failing.

My head struck—

but I kept breathing.

Because something in me said:

Stay.

⸻

Then something changed.

A moment.

A signal.

A way back.

I reached out.

I called for help.

And slowly—

something answered.

Machines.

Systems.

A path through the noise.

I was still here.

⸻

Say it with me:

I am still here.

Louder:

I am still here.

⸻

I faced it.

I spoke up.

I said: This happened.

I said: This was real to me.

And they listened—

or they started to.

⸻

Now I stand.

Marked, but standing.

Changed, but alive.

This is my voice.

This is my story.

Not silence—

but sound.

⸻

Say it with me:

I survived.

Again:

I survived.

And I will speak.

And I will stand.

And I will tell it—

again and again and again.