I want to face my pain by remaining silent in the monastery for 92 hours. In doing so, I not only renounce my speech, but also electronic devices and all digital media. My intention to be alone with myself and my thoughts scares me. I am afraid of the silence and the volume of my own thoughts. I am afraid of my pain.
A nun took me to my room. When she left, it became quiet. So quiet that I suddenly felt loud. My footsteps creaked on the floorboards. I tried to move as quietly as possible. The closing of the doors was suddenly so loud. I dropped objects by mistake and they fell clattering to the floor. Even if I had wanted to, I wouldn't have been able to get a word out.
Silence in itself doesn't seem difficult to me. But not being able to communicate, even more so. I would love to reach for my cell phone and say how I am.
I fell in the forest. My first impulse was to tell someone. It seems unreal if I don't. Did it really happen? Only the bruises bear witness to it.
6 hours of silence
I was afraid that the silence would be very painful. I expected it to be difficult. That my thoughts would become unbearably loud.
It is very quiet here. The silence invites you to be silent yourself.
At first I felt out of place. Like a dislocated body. I was afraid my footsteps might be too loud. In my perception, they were.
After a while of settling in, I also became calmer. The silence relaxed me. I fell asleep for a while. I barely encountered any people on my first walk. Everything was quiet and peaceful.
I read a book in the garden. The smells and sounds reminded me of the garden of my childhood. An abandoned ladder under the apple tree.
At dinner, things got stressful for the first time. Apart from me, everyone was talking to each other. Very loudly, in fact. Here I feel isolated in my silence. I am greeted. I can't say hello, I just nod. I haven't cried yet. I felt like it on the drive here. Will it be more comfortable being alone with the pain? Will I be able to accept it more easily? Just be with it? Sometimes I wonder if I long for the pain. Sometimes I am sure that I do. Am I only myself in the pain? It is deeply connected to me. 
Her pain has become my pain. Is it my pain?
30 hours of silence
I feel like I've been shot.
Open.
Wounded.
I am with myself and it hurts.
42 hours of silence
I can only get out of the pain when I stop thinking. It's even with me in my dreams. That makes waking up all the more painful.
52 hours of silence
I sleep and sleep. And dream. I am not tired. Am I exhausted? I don't know. I dream a dream that I used to dream often. I dream of a house across from hers. I walk through the different apartments. Is it about her? Or is she trying to protect me from something?
79 hours of silence
I seem to have succeeded in disappearing into my silence. The monastery is deserted. There is no dinner. I must have been forgotten. 
After yesterday's high, today the sadness comes like a wave in the morning. Nothing I'm not familiar with, but here I'm defenceless against it. 
A walk to compensate turns into a hike. Everything hurts me now.
Leaving the monastery walls changes the silence. The fear of having to say something arises. The knowledge of being seen as unfriendly because I don't say hello back or respond to a conversation starter.
The obstacle of saying anything.
Somehow I would like to remain silent.
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