The most ethereal experience is listening to music after having a meltdown - but in particular taking them off, and the freeing silence afterwards. You’re having a breakdown about something, mind racing, sobbing, on the verge of a panic attack, running around the house like a madwoman, head pounding so hard you can’t even think; just that state of absolute chaos and despair and horrible exhilaration. And then you find your headphones. And you sit down. And you put them on, prepare yourself, and begin to play that song. You know the one. The one you always reach for after moments like these. The one that makes you feel like you’re levitating out of your seat, the one that makes you forget you’re confined to mortal restraints. The one that feels like sinking into a hug after eons of isolation. And when that first note hits, you know it all too well, and you can feel your heart sighing in release, hear the calming hum of “you’ll be okay.” You sit there, eyes closed, outside your body, for the few minutes that the song plays. And when it’s over, you open your eyes slowly, and considerately, and the tears have stopped, and the only noise is the buzzing aftertaste of the experience. You take off the headphones. Hesitantly. Slowly. And for the first time in weeks, you can breathe. For the first time in weeks, your mind is at rest.