Standing Naked
As turbulence rasps and rattles around our plane, I lengthen each breath; loosen my shoulders, and allow myself to completely relax. Peace often feels like a choice. Unclenching my fists, I choose for the acid to drain from my stomach; I choose to stop striving. When life feels out of control, the only option that I have is to stop struggling and just be held. The last ten days have been coated with chaos. Returning home for my aunt’s funeral brought the grating relief that I had spent six weeks aching for. However, I never expected that three days before I was due to fly; on my birthday, my closest childhood friend would also suffer a brain haemorrhage. Something inside me shattered. I clawed my way onto the plane, with two impossible realities leaving me leaden. Allowing myself to emotionally crash in the UK, I discovered that as well as bringing home nits and a live cockroach, many of the symptoms of my exhaustion correlated with malaria. My GP sent me straight to “Acciden...