Days like today I feel suffocated by air. 
By simply breathing 
Days like this I wonder why my mind won’t let me be happy
Why the neurotransmitters that web my thoughts together are jumbled and foggy and broken 
Or maybe I just make this up. 
Maybe my own deep breathing is the reason my thoughts seem heavy. 
Possibly I am inhaling other people’s sadness. Madness, even. 
I’ve never understood who I am. Let me rephrase, “I always knew who I use to be.” 
Now a days even breathing gets harder. My depressive episodes last longer. Hit harder, choke me tighter… 
Days like today I wish holding my breath meant I was living. 
Because breathing feels like I’m suffocating. 


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