I’m in a meeting. I take a sip of coffee. I didn’t sleep last night. That chest pain was killing me. It occurs every now and then, for some 20 years. You have to endure the night. I learned. The night is the worst.
I changed positions on the couch, in the living room. I adjusted a pillow or two. Under the back. Hips. Breast. I was sitting. I was lying. I winced. It does not help. I take a pill. I know they won’t help much either. They never did in 20 years. But I always hope anyway. A miracle is the human psyche.
I go out on the balcony. I can cry there. I don’t want to wake them. I don’t want to talk. I can not. To myself, I’m too much now.
I sit curled up, on the cold tiles. Please stop the pain. I can not anymore. Midnight is long gone. It takes too long. I’m vomiting. I can’t feel my hands. Thorn. I gather and open my fists. I get up. I walk hunched over. Up and down, I think it will be easier that way. It’s not!
I sit on the stairs.
I don’t know why, but I think I never knew how to meditate.
Don’t think about anything. It would be good if I could do that. I’m looking at a house nearby. The only one where the light in the attic is on. I want to focus on that light. Not to think about the pain. Meditation my way. But I can not. I’m not that guy. For me, thoughts always wander in all directions. I think about everything now. Who is awake this late? What’s he doing? Is he watching tv? Did he just forget to turn off the light? Maybe he’s been sleeping for hours. I envy him.
Light… Yes, I should have focused on the light From nowhere comes the crow. He disturbs the silence with his loud cries. Steam my ears. I can’t think about light now. But it suits me, because from his noise, my sobs are not heard. I’m wiping away tears. My shirt is wet from them. I can handle the pain well. All other pain. But not this one. I could never handle this one.
I look at the crow. It goes through my head that he will, how lucky I am, shit on me. I’m getting up. I get away from him. I walk again, holding on to the wall with one hand. It’s almost morning. My legs are weak. I lose strength and the pain doesn’t stop. I think how I wish I was gone, if the pain would stop like that. I immediately remember my husband, dad, brother and family, friends… I feel guilty for thinking about it. I stop. I lean my head against the wall. Guilt is all I need now.
I walk down the balcony again. I mean, it will pass. The night is always the worst. And it’s almost morning. I look again at the light of that house. I want to empty my head. Think of light. The pain cuts the chest. My hands are shaking. I reach the balcony table. I’m thirsty. I can’t catch a bottle of water. It falls out of my hand. I’m trying again.
As I drink the last drops, from the plastic bottle, I look at the stars. In fact, the pain aside… It’s a wonderful night. I recognize constellations. I need to watch them more often. I think of my grandmas again. Are they watching me from above? I laugh. They must be shouting at me from above. I know they care. But they don’t need to. Everything will be ok. It’s almost morning. I need to endure the night.
Dawn is breaking. I enter the house with thoughts of them. I go to bed. I close my eyes. I am tired. I don’t feel anything. He unknowingly swings his right arm over me. Hug me tight. I feel safe. I have everything I need here!
I think how you probably have to feel the pain to know how to appreciate life without it.
It will pass!
I know it will.
It will be good!
I fall asleep!
P.S This is how it is when I have a anxiety attack. I haven’t had one in a long while.