The Soul’s Return

IIt’s been two and a half years since my injury, and I’m starting to recognize something deeper about what happened during the moment of unconsciousness—true unconsciousness. Not just blacking out, but something more profound.

I believe now that this kind of unconsciousness doesn’t just pause your body—it separates your soul from your physical self. For how long? I don’t know. But when you return, things don’t align quite the same. Your soul is back, yes—but maybe not in perfect step with the body it re-enters.

Since then, I often feel like I’m living multiple lives—not psychologically, but in terms of presence. One version of me shows up when I’m dreaming. Another appears when I meditate and feel tuned into someone else’s energy. In the early moments of waking, I sometimes feel like I’m not fully me until something catches—like my soul reattaches to my body, like a delayed download from another self.

This might explain why getting words out is so difficult now. Not because I’ve forgotten language, but because the part of me that used to say the words isn’t always the one steering the ship.

And I wonder: is this what it’s like for nonverbal Neurodivergent people? Do they experience this same gap between soul and body—feeling fully themselves inside, but disconnected from the ability to express it outwardly?

If so, I feel closer to understanding them now. Not by intellect, but through lived experience.