Stepping out of the shower, I feel the aura coming on like a freight train.
There’s barely time to think.
I just about have time to wrap myself in dignity, before rapidly falling into the abyss.
I fall into break-neck blackness, like a dream, a feeling of falling backwards, I lose my footing.
And yet people do not believe that this is real.
Just as real as the near-miss knock of my head against the sink;
Just as real as the depths of despair I feel, knowing that this is only the beginning;
This is my life,
And life for 1 in 103.
Like a baby learning to walk for the first time, I stumble out of the bathroom,
But unlike a baby I’m not stumbling towards the open arms of a parent.
I’m not stumbling towards the open arms of comfort, safety;
Instead I am alone.
I stumble to my bedroom, where I am alone.
And I fall.
I lay on the bed. I made it, only God knows how.
I let the tide wash over me as I sink into the soft sands of the quilt.
The mobile phone in my hand, I lay like a starfish on the beach;
My limbs are stuck to the grains beneath me.
Somehow my thumb has hit the “alert” button on my home screen, because when I finally come up for air, I hear a woman’s voice:
Gasping for air, I speak to the Saviour within my hand;
Her soothing tones calm my frantic panic.
Only after I hang up, do I crumble.
I’ve finally hit the ground, and I shatter into a million pieces.