Remember to Breathe

I recently wrote about the worst night of my Lyme disease treatment. I realized after I hit publish and closed the mental door on that post, how deeply that experience had affected me. In writing about that night, I was forced to relive the trauma and the resulting wisps of memory coiled themselves around me and began to squeeze. That night, remembering to breathe saved me from the trap of a depression spiral.

Process the emotion rather than getting hijacked by it

I lay down to sleep that night ready for a peaceful transition into slumber. Instead, as my eyes closed my inner vision was hijacked by deep, fearful grief.  The memory of that worst of nights flashed before my eyelids. I saw myself, feeble and vulnerable, sobbing as my body betrayed me once again. Lying in bed, my body was racked with emotion, my mind making that memory manifest in my body. Twitching and crying out into the dark room surrounding me, I allowed the memory to play out. Rather than recoiling in fear or being held captive by the dread that surrounded that night, I was able to see the warrior in myself. I silently reminded myself to remember to breathe.

As my body quivered with the memory, I did just that. I took deep cleansing breaths in and out as that trauma washed through me. But instead of simply watching it in replay mode I imagined I was there with that terrified woman. Myself now, on the healthy side of treatment, took her hand and caressed her shoulders. I told her that we make it through this. I assured her that we don’t die that night. We make it through and survive the challenge.

With my conscious effort to remember to breathe I believe I was able to process that moment instead of simply reliving it again and again. At the same time, I was able to remain in my body, as it is now, instead of how it was then. I also put into practice meditation skills that I’ve learned since those traumatizing days. Despite how terrified I had been, I was able to see how brave I was in the face of vulnerability.

Learn how to breathe

As a young ballerina, one of the first things I was taught was how to breathe. I remember my instructor telling me to suck in my gut and breathe through my ribs. Nobody wants to see a ballerina’s belly moving in and out, is the sentiment related to us. Your stomach was to remain flat and firm at all times.  It wasn’t until I was forty-four years old that I realized I had been taught to breathe incorrectly. Breaking this habit has been challenging, but with the help of meditation I’m relearning how to breathe properly.

Along with this fundamental misunderstanding of proper breathing, dread, fear and vulnerability led to restricted breathing throughout my treatment (and likely for years leading up to my diagnosis). Because of my extended illness, I lost trust in my body and I feared it. In order to counterbalance this fear my body became rigid, strained against the world, and my breathing became shallow. The only times I can remember breathing properly were during my hot baths. Only then, did I make concerted efforts to breathe deep, full, cleansing breaths.

Be gentle with yourself

I saw a post on @Lyme360 recently that calmed my spirit. It simply said, “Be gentle with yourself in the process.” Seven simple words that, in themselves, felt like taking a deep breath in my soul. It’s easy to look back with 20/20 vision and wish you had done things differently. While I believe firmly that I did the best I could with what I knew at the time, I hope to impart some wisdom and encouragement to you, thereby saving you some of the residual effects of suffering through your treatment. For today I simply implore you to be gentle with yourself and remember to breathe.

Nature Meditation

I have talked about this before but I think it’s fitting here as well. I have found that a nature meditation is a innate way to encourage healthy breathing. If you’re well enough, or on a good day, you might give it a try. It’s one of my favorite ways to meditate, particularly since I’m not good at sitting still for extended periods of time. I love to walk and I love nature, so it’s a great combination. All it requires is that you walk, at any pace that is comfortable, and take in your surroundings. I find it releases a sense of awe and wonder at the simple beauty that surrounds me. It also effectively takes my mind off of myself.

When you are in the midst of suffering, the constant cycle of checking in with yourself can be a terrible trap. But, when you sit in awe of the world surrounding you, the merry-go-round of inner thoughts is given a reprieve.

Remember to breathe

I remember spending hours, curled up on my couch, staring out the large picture windows of our tiny condo. Staring out those windows, I watched the world passing me by, feeling sad, resentful and filled with longing. I close my eyes today and imagine that, instead of those feelings of pity, I had simply opened the windows and breathed. That is what I encourage you to do.

Right now, as you’re reading this, wrap your arms around yourself in a warm embrace, remind yourself how awesome you are, and breathe. Breathe deep, allowing your belly to expand and expel all those pent up emotions fully. Breathe in…and breathe out. Breathe in strength…and breathe out fear. Breathe in compassion…and breathe out despair. Breathe in self-love…and breathe out discouragement. Through it all, remember to breathe.

It seems absurd, the need to remember to breathe, yet we all struggle from time to time with this most basic of human conditions. However, even on your worst days, it’s something you can practice. You may even find that it lifts your spirits, even if only marginally.

** If you’re interested in further meditations on breathing and self-love I have found this site to be immensely helpful.