Another Day

 

The blinding light seared into my befuddled brain as my eyes opened slowly.

Morning already, and a suffocating despair rolled like tidal waves, 

crashing, smashing on me, leaving me gasping for air.

Sensations only too familiar, but a memory surfaced,

of an occasion when I swallowed my panic and faced my fears.

I remembered how the rising tide of anxiety was awash with

the hammering of my heart, the churning of my stomach, the tightness in my chest.

Fighting the urge to run, taking deep breaths, counting my steps,

I walked on stage, almost blinded by the spotlight.

The world is but a stage, I got my chance at the limelight.

A sea of unfamiliar faces, turned towards me, curious, expectant.

Steadying my weaving body, I dropped onto the chair.

On the table, my trusty steed, the Litewriter, my voice output machine.

Help at hand, a supporting touch, a reassuring voice, “One step at a time, focus.” 

Fingers itching to scratch the goose bumps of apprehension,

Hands yearning to tear off clothing with its binding tightness,

I forced myself to type, a word, and another, then a sentence.

Steeling myself to continue, I imagined scaling the summit,

one foot in front of the other, one spur at a time.

Final sentence done, the summit conquered.

Drained, I got up, walked off, hearing and seeing nothing.

Yet my heart sang.  I made it to the finish line.

Another memory emerged, a lady, a stranger, at the supermarket, said my TEDTalk

inspired her to keep going on days she didn’t even want to get out of bed.

I can do it. Eyes adjusting to the light, I climbed into my body,

Ready to face another day; other summits to conquer.

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