Friday, August 31, 2007
I wake from an afternoon nap feeling my chest pound in trepidation. I often dream strange dreams, that have disconnected storylines, not altogether scary in content all the time. But even then I still wake up in a panic. "I am not ready to go back to work." But the dream had nothing to do with work.
My chest is still tightening. My mind is quiet, not even reeling in whatever dream-story I just went through while asleep. I am not sad. I am not angry. I am not regretful.
I sit here and think nothing, breathing normally, telling myself it is all right.
I wish my heart will stop beating in such a trying manner.
"I will be all right."