She Doesn't Breathe

 

For homework last week, I was asked to think about my breathing. I laughed, but I will never forget my homework or just not do it. Breathing is one of those things necessary for life. For me, breathing is being seen, which is not good. Often, I realize that I stop breathing. When I stop long enough to focus on breathing, the panic that sets in is something so overwhelming that I could run laps around any Olympic runner. I am terrified to breathe and be in my own skin.  I realized recently that I don't think Spunky breathes at all. I am pretty sure that she stopped breathing because that was just the easiest thing for her to do. It's easier to stop breathing than to acknowledge what is happening to you. I can't talk about it because I don't have the breath to get the words out.  The words require air and deserve the light, but for Spunky, there was no air or light. It is unbelievable to me that I sit down to write and have to take an intense breath because I have forgotten to just breathe. 

There is a presence to breathing that I have to work on for Spunky. If I want her to walk in that door and sit beside me, I have to be prepared to breathe through whatever it is that she needs to say or feel. She has often been called a tough cookie and I have to say that I agree. She is gentle, she is brave, she longs for safety and a place that she can feel like home. She has never belonged anywhere even in her own skin. She is scared to take up space, scared that she is a burden and terrified that if she does trust she will eventually be left again. She is fragile in a way, that is precious.  Her heart has been shattered and each and every time she gathers the pieces trying to make it whole again. There is a realization, that some pieces are never going to fit or have a place but that doesn't make her any less then. 

I am trying to be more aware, I am trying to focus more on the breathing, but it's terrifying in the worst ways. I have worked so hard to find my voice but am terrified of hers. Maybe she will be stronger than me, maybe she will speak with such clarity and resolve, that I will be speechless.  I want the world for her, and am working on it. I will continue to work, to focus on what she needs and what I can do to make her comfortable, make her safe and make breathing something that she is no longer afraid to do. 

I heart your heart.