My mind is racing again

and I can feel the knot in my stomach

tighten as I tread water

in this endless ocean.

The waves are crashing

over me relentlessly.

Panic has set in

and is holding fast.

Its grip like a vice

is clenched on my lungs.

My thoughts race in every direction

like bees swarming

when the hive is burst open violently.

I don’t know how much longer

I can tread this water.

I feel like I’m drowning.

The air is coming in gasps.

The sky above me spins

out of control,

swirling in turmoil,

clouds cascading over each other

and spilling out into this troubled sea.

I close my eyes against the inevitable,

shut tight to keep the storm at bay,

but still I am assailed on all sides,

above and below.

This ocean hungers for me

to swallow me whole.

I cannot shut out the violence besetting me

no matter how hard I try.

 

But then a still, small voice whispers

from the midst of the tumult:

“Breathe.”

I cannot!

“Breathe.”

I’m drowning in these waters!

“Breathe.”

My legs are so tired!

“Breathe.”

My lungs are screaming in agony!

“Breathe.“

The panic has taken over!

“Breathe.”

I cannot prevail against this storm!

“Breathe.“

The waves are overtaking me!

“Breathe.”

I am sinking!

 

And as I descend below the surface of the sea,

my body drawn down

by an invisible hand pulling me.

I know what cold depths await.

I know what darkness will swallow me.

But then the hand of another breaks the surface,

reaching toward me from above.

It takes me firmly in its grasp,

pulling me again upward

and back into the raging storm.

I open my eyes to see my rescuer,

but I am alone in this tumultuous salty brine.

The tempest is far from abated,

it’s fury wild and frenzied,

turbulent and roiling.

And from the midst of the thundering

again I hear a voice,

“Breathe.”