It’s weird how, when you’re holding your breath you don’t realize it until you exhale. Until the warmth of that long slow breath passes your lips and unleashes itself upon the world. Until that moment you have no idea you’ve not been breathing. You don’t even remember when you stopped. All you know is in this moment, you’re breathing again. You feel the air enter your nose and mouth, and then work its way down. Your chest expands and contracts. You feel the rhythm picking itself back up again. Like riding a bike.
It’s been nearly five days since I forgot to breath. 19 since my world tunnel visioned down to two little words proceeded by the beep of a phone, “I’m ok.” And then I breathe. Never have those two words been so important. I didn’t realize how much I needed them. How I had blocked the entire world out to focus only on those two words and the beep of a phone. I wasn’t able to cheer on a friend because my vision was so focused; so honed on when they would come next.
Beep. “I’m ok.” Exhale.
19 days that’s been my routine. I have one day left. One day until I don’t hold my breath. Until I don’t live between the beeps. Between the okays. It’s just a quick fix. “I’m ok.” The real addiction won’t be put to rest until my eyes see. Until my eyes see beyond words. Beyond the “maybe I’m not ok” hidden in between the beeps. Only when my eyes confirm what my ears know. Then I can breathe. My shoulders will relax and then after 20 days, I’ll finally sleep.