At first,
It started in her heart,
The fluttering that felt like light jabs to her chest.
Inch by inch,
It began to flood,
Her joints,
Bones,
Veins,
Nerves.
It rushed through her gut and made its way down to her fingertips.
It strangled its weight around her throat and laid heavily under her chest.
Oh no,
Not you again,
She muttered to herself.
It was an old pain that,
Although familiar,
Still surprised her with each visit.
Her thoughts swarmed in,
Swirling around her body,
Attacking at full force,
Reminding her of all she has yet to do and all she has yet to be.
Reminding her that she's not enough,
Shouting to her to give more,
To do more,
To be more.
She did her best to ignore it,
But that only made it worse.
She carried on like a patient with a fatal diagnosis,
Accepting it as her cross to bear.
Until eventually she couldn't bear it any longer.
She gave in,
Realizing that ignoring it wasn't an option.
She sat down in her laundry room,
Folded her legs on the cold wood floor,
And shut her eyes.
She took a breath.
Slowly her heart rate began to soften.
Instead of a beating thump,
It became a muddled pulse.
She took a breath.
Her brutal thoughts began to reprieve from their battering,
And she was able to become aware of her body.
She took a breath.
She was able to sink into herself.
She felt how her body connected to the laundry room floor,
How it connected to the air around her,
How it connected to her heartbeat,
How it connected to her mind.
She took a breath.
She let her mind and body sink back into one coherent peace.
She could feel the sink happening,
Like someone restarting the drum beat to match up with a melody after it had gone off pace.
She took a breath.
She put her hand on her stomach and felt it fill with air,
And she smiled lightly.
Thank you for bringing me back to me,
She whispered,
And just like that,
The overwhelm released a scrip and she was lighter.
She took a breath and kept going.
