Life with Asthma

Life with asthma inhaler

Exhale, puff, inhale, 1..2…3 exhale. Better?

Yes, if you consider collapsing burning lungs being slightly relaxed ‘better’. There’s no better here. 

This is not a case of the Monday blues. I can be happy, I can be sad, I can be manic, I can be inhibited, but I will always breathe in manual pilot. It never leaves.

The warm, invigorating, refreshing spring breeze brings the dry, dead, and rusted back to its former glory. It’s a colourful spirit in an infinite array of colours. 

To me, it’s all just statistics of the pollen count of the day. Don’t forget your mask because spring is here to choke the last remaining breath out of you.

I hear my friends talk to me about their lives. 

They have no idea; it all sounds blank to me as my thoughts are clouded with a bombardment of “breathe, breathe, breathe.” Breathe, breathe, breathe… Wait… 

Did I check the road for cars before crossing it? I see a range rover zooming towards me, blaring its horn like the messenger of death coming to fly me away. What a pathetic way to go, I thought. As the SUV halts to a stop and I can see the driver getting out. Good thing I’m only partially listening to his yellings as I run back to safety. The car may be gone, and the incident may be over, but I am left with “breathe, breathe, breathe,” plus one more cringe memory. 

Exhale, puff, inhale, 1… 2… 3… exhale. Time for another day. I can’t do this anymore. This constant battle to do something so trivial. Ironic for an extrovert to think five times before making a joy sprint in the rain. What if I pass out?

Would it be ironic to die by hanging myself? Choking the air out of my lungs that I fought for all these years to keep in? 

It’s been too long, too dreadful. To explain to people my inability to comprehend, process and maintain myself with this ailment. But despite it all, I fought till today. I’ll fight tomorrow too.

Let the spring choke my breath out; I will fight the wrath of nature and my shitty genetics. I will be kind; I will be compassionate. I, with my breathless, numb body, will blow kisses that sprout newness of life and happiness.

Artwork by Anika Tabassum.

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Authors

  • Abdul Mohaimen Al Radi

    Self-proclaimed productivity God with severe anxiety, currently studying at CSEDU.

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  • Anika Tabassum

    Anika Tabassum, trying to pursue a career in the scientific field, likes to do fantastical illustrations and try new creative things from time to time. Her love for art was heavily inspired by games, manga, animated movies and series.

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