I feel like I haven't gotten a deep breath in months. I keep waiting for my chest to rise and then the sweet simple joy of breathing to hit me. It hasn't. I've lost the talent to enjoy breathing. To relish a basic movement of life.
My hands look old in the light of the monitor. All lines and veins stand out. I watch myself type these words and wonder if my face reflects as my hands do. I feel as old as I must look right now. Sleepless nights only looked dashing when I was 20. Now, I look just as I feel; sad & tired.
Each month has become an exercise in corset wearing. Slow shallow breathing; not deep enough to spread the ribs and cause them to creak in pain against the boning. Not quick enough to cause hyperventilation and loss of consciousnesses.
Corset breathing and a simple mantra of it will be better next month. This is the fourth month of this mantra and frankly I didn't really believe it in July or the months before. I hope the mantra is true for September. Just a little bit better is all I need. I need a little something to keep up my good faith.
Or maybe I will just go buy a corset. If I am stuck with the breath, I might as well get the waistline to go with it.