Breathing

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.