Rituals Waking up
My eyes open; itīs quiet, no alarm, no ticking clock.
The light blindens my eyes; I wonder, am I still of this world.
I try to breathe, itīs hard, exhausting and demanding. Yes, I am still alive.
I can hear the crackles and pops, feel my chest vibrating with every breath.
I sit up in my bed, I can hear my mum in the kitchen.
The children are playing outside my window, the sun is shining.
I bend my knees and bow my head before the Lord:
"Please Lord, I ask thee now, take my yoke and lift it high.
I cannot bear the burden of this life, though yet another day of mine"
My tears fall like raindrops through the sky, but there is no-one there
to wipe them away from my pale skin.
I sit on my bed again, my mum comes into my room.
She sees my eyes, looks at me but knows there is not much she can do.
She has got my aerosols and sits with me until Iīm done.
Without exchange of a single word, I make my way to the therapy bench.
The beating starts, an endless rhythm of pounding hands against my chest.
I can feel it moving, but it wonīt come up.
It stays down there, and suffocates me slowly,
Iīm drowning in myself.
The soft voice of my mum reaches my ears.
"One more time, please Johanna, try to get it up"
I hurt, my body hurts, one more cough and I will die
-That is for sure.
I give up, I have no strength.
I sit at the table with my plate of food and the seven pills.
It is not much, I want to eat. I need to eat!
I take one bite, but it is so hard. One more, and another one.
It seems a lot as I struggle on, but the hard truth tells me:
-It is not enough.
I must not lose another pound. I have to fight, just one more bite.
It is hard, I am so tired. I cannot eat, not right now.
Instead I feed myself though a tube. I need not chew, I can just rest.
But, it does not last for very long. I feel sick, I must throw up.
I start to cry because I need the food.
I cannot live like this another day.
There is not a day I do not cough.
I walk three steps, and the hell breaks out.
My chest hurts, like someone is twisting a knife
My whole body hurts, please give me a break.
I do not get the rest I deserve, instead I cough, yes even more.
I cough until I have no more air to cough, but my body still wants to cough.
I cannot take a breath of air because the cough is still down there.
I cough until only blood comes up, fresh, bright red blood.
The fear grabs me with its cold hands, hand that will not let go of me.
I shake, I cry, please, someone help me now.
I am so scared, just hold me tight.
Another day has come to its end, I made it through yet again.
A day of suffering, pain and fear; a day of hell.
Please Lord, donīt put me through this again, just let me go.
Iīve had enough, I want to go.
But thank you for helping me through this day of hell,
just make tomorrow a little less like hell.
I rest my head against the bed, the last I see before I close my eyes,
is the pumps that keeps me alive, and the oxygen hose that goes to my nose.
Itīs been a hard day, Iīve got nothing left.
I fall asleep and in my dream, I see myself run along the field.
I am free.