From a wish in secret to a pain that everyone sees

It was midnight—the hour when the soul either finds peace or falls into the abyss. I had nothing left but the desire to disappear from a reality that felt like a relentless war. I let myself drift into the shadows of addiction, seeking an artificial compensation for everything I had lost. With every memory of defeat, the dose increased, as if I were trying to drown my history in a chemical fog. I was an ordinary man until "She" appeared. She was like a veil placed over my eyes, hiding the entire world and leaving only her image. I began losing things, piece by piece, but I believed that everything was replaceable... except her. I abandoned my life and followed her to Turkey, never stopping to think about the consequences. Then came the call that shattered the illusion. My grandfather’s voice on the line: "Your father has died." In that moment, I felt my heart break before I even felt the pain. I ran. I ran as if death itself were chasing me, leaving behind the one person I thought I could never leave. On my way back, a second call from an unknown number: "Your mother has passed away." I collapsed to my knees. I looked toward the sky with eyes holding a sea of unshed tears, waiting for a moment of solitude to let me drown. The world turned black. I felt as if I were being thrown from the peak of a mountain. I woke up to a voice I didn't recognize. A strange, hauntingly calm voice. "What happened? Why can’t I see anything?" I asked. She told me she found me collapsed and brought me to her home. "Am I blind?" I screamed. She called it a temporary shock. Then, the seizures took hold of me. I cried out: "Is this the price for asking for love?" The last thing I felt was the sting of a needle in my neck. Suddenly, I felt paralyzed. I could hear everything around me, but my body was a cage. Memories played like cinematic scenes inside my mind, but words were heavy on my tongue. "Where am I?" I managed to whisper. "I am a medical student, and this is my home," she replied. "Who are you, and what happened to you?" "What happened to me... could never happen to anyone else," I said, struggling with the weight of my own voice. She replied with a chilling logic: "Do you know what happens to everyone else, to be so sure your pain is unique?" "What did you give me? I want to leave," I said. "You are free to go," she answered coolly. "If you can." "Is it because I am blind? Or because of the drugs?" I snapped. "It is because you don't know where you are going," she said. Stunned by her words, I asked, "What do you mean?" She leaned in and delivered the lethal blow: "What is your name?" And in that moment of silence, I realized I didn't just lose my sight. I had lost the very thing that defined me. Many people ask me: Why now? Why release my testimony at this specific moment? The answer is simple: We are living in an era of noise, where everyone is talking but nobody is listening to their own soul. I wrote these pages to be a sanctuary of silence—a place where you can finally stop, breathe, and have that long-overdue conversation with the person you were years ago.