Wailing Woman

In those windows of time when I develop the resolve to drag myself to the gym on a consistent basis, I’ve noticed there is a level I am unable to push beyond. A place my body arrives at where it naturally slows me down. If I try to push too far my heart races, and my throat starts to feel as if it’s closing. I know with confidence I’m not experience an allergic reaction to exercise. I’ve unsuccessfully used this excuse before so don’t waste your time floating this one past your doc (you’re welcome).

 Making the decision to tell my body what time it is, I decided I was going to crush the shit out of my cardio this fateful morning at 5am. Bey’s Coachella live queued up on Spotify and I was off to the races. Somewhere around ‘Bow Down Bitches’, when the fever of making bitches bow the F down took over, I felt it; the heartbeat stuttering, my breaths uneasy and I pushed. I found my body eventually did submit.

The bitch bowed and my heart calmed; my breathing became deeper, and tears started to flow. I realized what was squeezing my throat and cutting off the air was buried deep. Hoping nobody noticed, I ended the workout and now I’m in my car trying not to come undone. There is a wailing woman living inside of me and she is inconsolable.

 She tries to swallow me though I have buried her under as many layers as I can because it’s the only way to move forward. I asked my body to hide her and so it does. But it can’t contain her and let me run marathons at the same time. 

I cannot undo this damage or unsee what I have witnessed. The wailing woman in my soul is a permanent part of me. She’s destructive, angry, and seeking resolution where there is none. Her screaming always ‘I can’t believe he’s gone’ from the bellyache in her soul.

 Tomorrow, I will try again. Try to tame her. Try to console her. But I will not let her out from the cage. Nobody I love would survive it.