Adobe Express AI
Above the hedgerows the trees sway in an untimed rhythm, while my foggy head is waking up to the day. Waiting on my morning medicine to kick in, my son is tapping on something in his room. Something which I really don’t to want to know about. Last night was another rough night, not unlike the 1000 other nights before. Still I tossed and turned through the darkness waiting for the daylight. So I could sleep in peace during the day. The words I write touch hollow the emotions that I now feel, because there’s no other emotion but stress coursing through my veins.
Between my eyes is a centrally located headache, deep within my chest a desperate desire to breathe normally. But I control these things with a stoic determination I’ve practiced through even worse attacks. As I sit in front of this chattering little keyboard, my wife reads to herself unaware of my current plight. I would much rather be laying on the bed, but the boredom of my restlessness would just chill me to the bone.
Now it is the late afternoon, earlier I was forced to get up and run errands, which gave my wife a chance to get out of the house. Imprisoned in this tomb my wife and son have no choice but to stay at the apartment. While I have the keys and the ability to drive, I often choose to just stay put. It was always them and my other kids that forced me to be uncomfortable. To have to socialize and interact with the world. While for a time every fiber of my being begging me to stay under the covers.
It's been 26 years since that first panic attack, and many, many more since then, including today. But after the errands were and a restful nap. I felt good enough to make an extra trip to our daughters so Granny could see her granddaughter and buy some ice cream. I understand how moments can look so bleak that you can’t look at the sun. So as I look out again over the hedgerows and swaying pecan trees. I’m reminded yet again, I can do this. No matter the pain or the chill in my bones.
Between my eyes is a centrally located headache, deep within my chest a desperate desire to breathe normally. But I control these things with a stoic determination I’ve practiced through even worse attacks. As I sit in front of this chattering little keyboard, my wife reads to herself unaware of my current plight. I would much rather be laying on the bed, but the boredom of my restlessness would just chill me to the bone.
Now it is the late afternoon, earlier I was forced to get up and run errands, which gave my wife a chance to get out of the house. Imprisoned in this tomb my wife and son have no choice but to stay at the apartment. While I have the keys and the ability to drive, I often choose to just stay put. It was always them and my other kids that forced me to be uncomfortable. To have to socialize and interact with the world. While for a time every fiber of my being begging me to stay under the covers.
It's been 26 years since that first panic attack, and many, many more since then, including today. But after the errands were and a restful nap. I felt good enough to make an extra trip to our daughters so Granny could see her granddaughter and buy some ice cream. I understand how moments can look so bleak that you can’t look at the sun. So as I look out again over the hedgerows and swaying pecan trees. I’m reminded yet again, I can do this. No matter the pain or the chill in my bones.
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