In the past couple weeks and days, I’ve had cause to lose my breath more times than I’d like to admit. Gasps of surprise. Gasps of hurt. Gasps of despair. And quite literal gasps for air because of the extra pounds I put on along with Mexico City’s thinner air.
Part 1: A new job. I recently said yes to a position that means more responsibility, more work and more ways I can equally become extremely stressed and/or extremely satisfied professionally.
Part 2: Space. Not like outer space but more like that dreaded “I need space” talk. Like wtf. Really? Gasps for air. From me? Clutches chest. I can’t breathe. Nothing quite like the gut punch reality check of a lover turned stranger.
Part 3: Family Realities. Traveling with family is a new concept for me. I’m an only child from a family that put zero effort into family vacations. I do not know how to share a space with someone who is my blood, with someone who is me. What life altering madness is this? Just breathe. Just breathe. Just breathe.
Part 4: CDMX. “The air is so thiccck and opaqqque” except no, not that Adele, it’s more like thin needles slicing your windpipe. Cold. Light-headed. Nausea. This can’t be real life. Three flights of steps because the elevador is broken. A face mask because COVID.
I find myself struggling to breathe daily, struggling to grasp the reality of my various situations, struggling to accept and let be and also literally struggling to breathe in a strange country that my CAPE level Spanish did not prepare me for. Constant fluctuations have me inhaling for 4, exhaling for 5, attempting to regain control of what I can, attempting to breathe.