Your Regrets Will Break You.
Until You Make Peace With Them
My lungs wake me with a gasp in the morning at least twice a year, and even before coronavirus, that was an unpleasant sensation. I was never told that no matter how much sleep feels like death, I am not dying. Is that why I am so surprised to wake up every morning intact?
Waking up, at times, feels like coming back from the dead. It’s painful, uncomfortable, the lights are too harsh, and half the time I can’t breathe. Hands are wrapped around my lungs squeezing. I’ll breathe deep for the first time, confused, distraught, unsure if life is a burden I wish to bear.
Nine years ago, I wrote if waking up felt this way, why should I put myself through the pain of waking? Though I talk and write of death often, it’s no longer a desire of mine. I want to live, and as the saying goes, that’s half the battle. Sometimes, however, my lungs get overzealous and don’t want to wait till morning to hear me breathe deep. When they get too impatient, they’ll send a message to my sleeping brain that I’m drowning right this instant. Could I do something about that please?
This jars me awake at 4:32 with a scream on my lips silenced by mere habit. I sense I shouldn’t wake my friends from their sleep just because my brain is playing tricks on me. Millions of people go to sleep every night…
