By Franz Anotado
There is an unfamiliar quiet that follows the storm of the mind. It feels strange, new. For so long, I thought healing meant loud victories and celebrations, grand declarations that seemed to speak how one should be “okay” again. But what surprised me most was that sanity does not come with fireworks—it comes with silence.
This silence is not empty. It is the sound of mornings where one can breathe without heaviness. It is the absence of constant battles one no longer has to fight and suppress every hour. It is the peace of walking through a day without feeling like the ground beneath is collapsing.
Yet this silence can also feel unfamiliar. Again, it is new. When the mind is used to all the chaos, calm can feel unsettling. When you’ve been used to all the noise, self doubt, and anger—the quiet can make you restless. You start asking: Am I really okay, or am I just waiting for another breakdown?
I’ve learned and acknowledged this silence. That the silence after sanity is not the end of the story. It is the beginning of learning how to live again, slowly and steadily. It is where you rediscover the joy of small things—conversations that don’t drain you, nights where sleep is natural, mornings where light feels like a gift, and most importantly, another chance for you to protect your peace.
If you are in that silence, don’t be afraid of it. Embrace it. Healing doesn’t always roar; sometimes, it whispers. And in that whisper, we find the strength to keep moving forward.
