Walking
It’s meant to be summer, but it’s cold in the mornings. Somewhere midday it begins to shine, and then it’s cold again. Before you leave the house, there’s the confusion: do you need to take a jacket or not? Is the shirt you have on thick enough if it gets too cold? Is it thin enough if the sun begins to show off? A few years here have taught you never to trust the weather, so there is never a question of what the weather app says. It’s not going to rain? You take an umbrella anyway.
It’s not like you really need to step out this Saturday morning, but Jo says you need to move. You cannot afford to stay indoors the whole day. The strawberries from the local farmers are the best, and so you are not only walking or stepping out to stay sane. You really need some strawberries, and it just so happens that it is a farmer’s market day.
Running
There are a few things you begin to notice when you start to run. First, you are not as strong as you thought you were. You actually do not have the capacity to run three kilometers without breaking down at some point. You cannot afford to breathe through your nose alone. Your throat and chest hurt. And where is the pain in your lower belly coming from?
Running means that your muscles ache in the morning. As painful as it is, you know that it is a good kind of pain. You struggle to climb the stairs to your apartment. It’s even worse when you are descending, but again, it is a good kind of pain. And so you keep running every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, even if it is only five minutes. Even if you have to stop every half kilometer to catch your breath.
You are staring at the ceiling again. Why do you do it? When you catch yourself doing this, you realize that you are numb. Not because you can’t get up if you decide to, but what else can you do aside from staring at the ceiling? You ask Siri to set a timer for 15 minutes and then 20 minutes. It’s been repeated about four times.
By the time you get up from watching the ceiling, you haven’t gotten any rest. You didn’t take a nap, nor did you get any sleep. You don’t really recall what you were thinking about. As a matter of fact, you cannot pinpoint the relationship between you and the ceiling.
You make for the washroom. You look at yourself. Hell, you are beautiful. Yes, you are. But why do you have to go through this with all of that beauty?
Jo says he was your dope, and the only reason your life is at a standstill right now is because you are experiencing withdrawal symptoms. And for you, the only way to survive this heartbreak is to stare at the ceiling, since you won’t let yourself cry.
Planking
The only reason you are up this early Tuesday morning is so that you can tick the plank and squat exercise off your list. Thirty minutes sounds like a lot, and so ten it is. The goal is to squat 30 times. Have a two-minute plank. Nobody said it has to be done in one go, and so after every 15 seconds, you lie down to catch your breath.
On the third try, you fail to rise up. You are looking beneath your bed. The sandals you are meant to wear in summer are stuck there. Only heaven knows how much dust and cobwebs they have gathered. The necklace you lost three months ago is at the far end corner of the bed. It must have fallen off one night when you took it off in your sleep. You get up, push the bed with all your might, and reach for it with your puny hand. It is dusty. You wipe it off with your knicker.
This was a gift from Dope after you passed that biochemistry exam on the third try. You can almost recall him putting it around your neck, saying, “Well done” and “I am proud of you” repeatedly.
You slide into the bed and allow yourself to cry. The tears gush out like lava that has been waiting to erupt for an eternity. It is a shame, you think. You didn’t even cry like this when your cousin Thomas died!
When you snap out of it, it is 6:30. You text your colleague to let her know that you will be running a bit late today. “I have a slight headache.”
How long would you need to get yourself together before work? Quite frankly, you could use a whole week or a month, but there aren’t any sick leaves for people going through a heartbreak, even though it can be quite synonymous with a severe mental health condition.
You acquiesce to a 45-minute timer. It is not enough, but you take what you get.
The idea is to close your eyes and just breathe. Just breathe. Instead, you hear your heart break as it rises and falls. Your head begins to ache for real. There is this shadow that crawls from your head to your chest, to your belly, and to the soles of your feet.
You can hear the clock ticking. Life is moving forward, not waiting for you to get well. It just keeps going. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The only thought that allays some of the pain is that this is a withdrawal symptom from dope, and the only way to survive this, even though you let yourself cry, is to stare at the ceiling.
