what do you do when breathing feels too much like an obligation you don't want to succumb to?
what do you do when you've paced back and forth, the length of the isle of Manhattan, and still your nerves are dancing restlessly...
what do you do?
what do I do?
I try to slow myself down. Breathe, I tell myself. One more hour and it'll pass.
and the hour passes.
It has not fled.
wait it out, I say to myself, it will weaken.
but it only gets worse.
my own strength is hiding from me, playing a joke, seeing if I'm smart enough to discover it once more. but this isn't fair. I'm too vulnerable to catch up to it. I'm too fragile.
I just want my strength to help me pull through.
why won't it help me? why must it play this game?
do I do this to myself? Or is this illness controlling me now?
Do you see in this post the amount of question marks? I could go on. And then I'd feel even more helpless. Perhaps the key is to stop asking. But then I don't know what to do with my mind. The moment I halt all analytical activity I become completely weightless, taken away by the smallest breeze, and then lost.
I just want to be on the ground again. I want my feet on the ground again.