Long Breathe

Hunched over gasping for air, I shook with frustration. My emotions got the better of me again and I lost the rhythm of my pace. I couldn't make my running goal.

It's not like I enjoyed the pain. Or at least, I wasn't running to feel pain. One thing my panic attacks reminded me of the most was that I would always experience pain in some shape or form. With running I could do it on my terms as I tried for something more productive than laying hopelessly in bed all day. Make the pain have a point.

I paced back and forth with my hands on my head for a few minutes. "5 minutes to go," the female voice said robotically from the app. Soon, I got my breathing slow enough that I could breathe easily through my nose.

Slow and deep. Nice and steady.

It didn't last long when I realized that I couldn't remember what triggered the attack. I knew that they don't always need a reason to appear, but it still infuriated me when I couldn't find a source to puzzle over. Nothing hurts worse than a problem you can't unpick. Even unbearable problems that can be solved are better than untouchable problems. One has an end.

I stared at the crashing waves for a moment.

With a heavy sigh, pulling up my playlist options on my phone, I change from my workout playlist to my mental health playlist. The energetic beat now became a smooth string of notes. Several long breaths later I push myself to focus on the nauseating emotion from earlier. Soon my stomach churns. Guilt and horror flood my body. No images come, to my relief. There is something, though. A hook, a source. I reach for it. Pushing, pushing, pushing. My stomach twists painfully and I gasp desperately as if I'm drowning.

I open my eyes which are now blurry. Blinking tears away the sand and horizon come back into view, right where I left them. The steady music lulls me back to calm and slowed breathing.

"I guess I wasn't ready."

"Take a rest!" the app offers.

I contemplate taking the advice, though I'm wary of the possibility that sitting down might lead to lying down. I couldn't afford to lay down. Not in my current state.

I turn my focus to my breathing. Just my breathing. The waves continue to pound on the sand as if declaring how they will not be silenced. They are not to be challenged. Their beauty and their power always working together in an eternal loop.

Now, for my middle ground music.

The pace of the music quickens as does my own pace. Intertwined the music and my heart as I walked the length of the beach with the sun finally beginning to rise. Arms swinging out and in towards my chest. My hopes rise higher and higher as the light reaches across the water until it reaches me. By the time I reach the cliffs on the other side, I'm bouncing with each step.

I turn and face the way I came with renewed determination. I didn't want to risk injury by starting the run over again, but the least I could do was finish what I started regardless of its shortness. Music switched again to fast and intense. Lyrics reassuring me of my strength a capability. My resolve to rise again no matter the fall.

A final time I close my eyes and breathe long steady breaths one after another. I forget time and listen as the ocean roars and drums pound.

Eyes still closed I kneel in the sand. Hands down with fingers sinking into the sand in front. Next, I arch my body and dig the toes of my shoes further in.

Today, I don't survive. Today, I thrive.

Eyes snap open.