"A Life Reborn in Darkness"

The anesthesia's grip on my mind slowly loosened, but instead of clarity, I was met with an impenetrable fog that shrouded my thoughts and memories. I was aware of the beeping of machines and the soft murmur of voices around me, but they seemed distant and muffled. My body felt heavy, my limbs unresponsive, as if they were made of lead. As I struggled to open my eyes, a piercing light stabbed at my retinas, forcing me to squint shut. I whimpered, a high-pitched, nasally sound that was foreign to my own ears. My mind was a jumbled mess of confusion and disorientation. I had no recollection of who I was, where I was, or what had happened to me. Time passed, and I lost all sense of it. I existed in a state of suspended animation, a prisoner of my own damaged brain. The medical staff came and went, their faces a blur as they checked my vitals and administered medication. I was a vegetable, a shell of my former self, devoid of thought and emotion. When I finally emerged from the coma, I was met with a world that was overwhelming and terrifying. Every sound was amplified, every light seared my retinas. I was hypersensitive to everything around me, and it was like being bombarded by a thousand different stimuli all at once. I lay there, helpless and mute, as my brain struggled to make sense of the chaos around me. My thoughts were fragmented and disjointed, like a puzzle with missing pieces. I had no memory of my past, no sense of identity. I was a blank slate, a newborn baby in a grown adult's body. As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, I began to exhibit symptoms that were both fascinating and disturbing. I would rock back and forth, my body swaying to some unheard rhythm. I would make strange, repetitive sounds, like a mantra that only I could hear. I was trapped in a world of my own, a world that was both familiar and yet, utterly alien. The medical staff diagnosed me with severe autism spectrum disorder, a condition that made it difficult for me to interact with the world around me. I had no concept of personal space, no understanding of social cues. I was a stranger in a strange land, lost and alone. Hange, the person who had saved my life, was a constant presence by my side. He would talk to me, hold my hand, and try to comfort me, but I didn't understand him. I didn't understand anything. I was a mystery to myself, a enigma wrapped in a riddle. As I lay there, trapped in my own private hell, I wondered if I would ever find my way back to the world of the sane. Or would I be forever lost in this darkness, a prisoner of my own damaged brain?