From the Archives

From the archives, finally brave enough for publishing.

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Suffocating

She could feel the tension all day. It usually started as a nagging pull somewhere at the base of her skull but today was different. Today it pulled at her chest. Shrugging it off, she picked up her notes and headed to the conference room. Hour by hour, the time ticked by slowly marking her way through yet another work day.

When her silence became too much, a friend stopped by just to check. Just her presence pulled the tears out of her eyes, pooling on her lids and bitterly spilling over into her sweaty palms. Her heart quickened, thudding in her chest, in her ears, in her mind. It was apparent they were fighting again, taking a final chip out of her soul. Somehow it was evident something had broken inside of her. The final shred of hope had been flickering, waning in strength and intensity and now all she could do was sit there. Her limbs felt heavy and numb, the only feeling was the fire in her heart rapidly cooling.

Guided by the arm, she was led quickly to the car away from the prying eyes of gossiping coworkers. Before she knew it, she was talking. Mostly nonsense broken periodically by haggard breaths and sobs. She was surrounded by the love of a true friend and yet her heart shattered. In every passing moment the agony intensified. Emotions ran their course, some waiting their turn, some trampling over the one before it causing a confusion she couldn't understand. Anger, bitterness, resentment, sadness, disappointment and fear. They all washed over her in unrelenting waves, each one knocking her further to her knees.

It was strange to her this being taken care of. That was her job, her calling, her passion. And yet, there she sat an unstable puddle of emotion with them flitting around her. The dark circles under her eyes were slowly being overtaken by a puffiness a crying eye knows. The skin on her face was tight from the tracks of her salty tears.

Pulling it together momentarily, she somehow convinced the blurred faces she would be okay but in reality, all she could think about doing was curling in a ball and squeezing herself to the point where her muscles ached and provided some sort of distraction. And so it went. She wept until there were no more tears left and fell asleep to the rhythm of her own sobs.


Dark, sad eyes peered back over a hue of purple reserved only for the miserable. Surely she was dreaming, but in case she was not, she reached over for concealer and dabbed until the hue turned a lighter shade of lavender. Surprising herself, she worried that someone would think she had been hit, which surely wasn't the case.

She passed the work day by avoiding eye contact and keeping her eyes downcast, praying no one would comment on her look of utter exhaustion. Whether it worked or people were too polite to intercede, she didn't care. She had made it through another day. Surely, tonight would be easier with the distraction of company. She was right. The hours of the evening passed smoothly with only one knowing look from a brother that knew her well enough not to say anything. With a lingering hug, he whispered that he loved her as he walked out the door. With a deep breath, she steeled herself against the silence of the house. Surely she should be accustomed to this by now.

The routine for bed was something that provided a few moments of comfort. Something she could control and rely on. Her pajama pants where right where she had left them hanging over the side of her hamper. She straightened the sheets and crawled in. The exhaustion made her head spin as she prayed for sleep to come. Staring into the darkness, she could feel her heart pumping faster, emotions pulling at her throat and causing her lungs to burn for oxygen. Her head spun as she frantically tried to calm herself. The silence clung to her skin and crept into her bones causing an ache that mimicked that of her heart. Her chest was tight. She couldn't breathe.

In a flash the light was on and she was stuffing clothes into a bag. She frantically wiped at the tears that blurred her vision. Anger crept up her spine. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be happy. How could she have let this happen again? She could taste the bitterness on her tongue as the cool air of the night surrounded her, steadying her mind, even if for a moment.

An angry chuckle scratched it's way up her throat. This was a drive she had made before. A drive to the only people she knew would love her no matter what. The lights were on in the house, the love that resided inside beckoning to her.

After a pitiful crying jag, she managed to calm herself enough to talk. Trying to explain how she felt, her mother's comforting touch let her know that she understood. Love and acceptance warmed her and slowed her breathing. Of course she had a bag with enough clothes for a couple days at least.

She seemed to float through the house, unaware of her feet moving at all. Everything around her seemed to dull, so empty. She prepared for a night on the pull out couch her mother had carefully covered with clean sheets. Resigned to an long night ahead of her, she laid down anticipating the darkness unaware of the storm that was brewing.

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Control

Her day started as any other. Too early and too quickly. The alarm tore through her fitful sleep, a not so gentle reminder of the day that lie ahead. Trudging a trail to the bathroom, she flicked on the light and started the shower. Something she had done so many times it was practically second nature. Sleep was something she had not had in weeks if not months but instead resolved every night to hoping the nightmares would stop. A glance in the mirror revealed the same dark circles she saw the day before.

She stepped into the shower, pleading for the hot water to wash away the pain and exhaustion. While the water failed miserably, the comforting floral smell of her soap fed the small hope in her that today would be better. Today the emptiness would be less.

Everything was routine providing a measure of comfort with its repetition. The same commute, the same cup of coffee, the same emails to tend to. She anticipated the phone calls less these days. They were shorter and less frequent which of course only provided more anxiety to her already overloaded mind. But inevitably every time it did, she knew there would be a fight. A misunderstanding that would only cause her to sink lower.

It was a vicious cycle. A monotony that she came to count on and dread. The day ended like most others. The same commute back home with her eyes closed, wishing for a moment of peace. She had resolved to a night of cleaning and organizing. Something to give her a false sense of control. Something she had no desire or energy to do for weeks now.

She forced herself into her Nikes and shorts and dutifully turned on the treadmill. A Walk In The Clouds played out before her as she felt the familiar burn in her calves. A story of love and sacrifice. Certainly this wasn't going to help. She reached for the remote and switched off the tv. As she focused on the steady pace of her footsteps, the wine of the motor began to mock her. Her ribs ached and she felt the sharp pang of acid toying at the base of her throat which was only being held back by the lump that predicted the downfall she was about to have.

It was then she realized she was holding her breath. Surely this was nothing short of stupid, particularly when running. She took a ragged breath in and before she knew it, she was on her knees sobbing into sweaty palms. Despair, loneliness and shame washed over her and beat her along with her sobs. Her mind raced to form a plan because surely a plan would give her comfort. Allow her to rely on something solid, something that couldn't possibly change. As her mind raced, her lungs heaved and the sobs continued.

After a time, the crying stopped but her emotions lay ragged and exposed. Oversensitive to anything that could touch her. Wanting the one thing she couldn't have. The one thing she didn't deserve. So she sat unsure of what else to do but just breathe.

And here I am, pretending this isn't my own nightmare.