My heart is beating. Too fast. Unsteady. I can’t breathe. I can not breathe. I try but only gasp, not filling my lungs. I feel like crying and releasing endless rivers of pain, but there is no air, no sound, no tears. I cannot move; paralysed by the inner violence, I am suffering. And my heart is racing. Skipping beats. It hurts in my chest, but I can not breathe. A wail leaves my lips; I cover my mouth and hide my face. This is not me. My legs give in. And I sink to the concrete floor. I bite my trembling fingers, trying to calm down. But to no avail. The anxiety consumes me whole. Thick tears roll down my cheeks, and sobs shake my entire body. I am too weak to move and just lie down. How can this be? Everything is okay—everything but me. I am not feeling myself. I am feeling too much. My heart keeps racing, but my mind is blank. I can not think; I just gasp for air and cry. I shake my head, but nothing changes. I can not silence the battle raging in my bubble. I lost control. (October 2020)
(Surgery first thing tomorrow…)
reflections of an unquiet mind 