The body. As soon as I learned to read, it transformed from a boundless biological machine through which the soul interacts with the world, into a flat anatomical diagram. Heart, kidneys, liver. The exclamation point over the body changed to a colon, followed by scary words: appendicitis, arrhythmia, angina, heart attack, meningitis, tetanus… And then there’s Mom, always afraid you’ll fall, break something, cut yourself, catch an infection.
The body = fear. The body = traitor, only pretending to be your friend. In truth, you’re its hostage, and every step here is booby-trapped, sometimes fatally.
Is it possible to make a straw for myself, to be safe, to calm an already endlessly wandering nerve? — I’ve spent years building a security system, scanning my body for all sorts of threats. Measuring pulse, blood pressure, temperature, sugar levels, feeling my breasts, lymph nodes, abdomen, taking tests once a year. The illusion of control.
“Stay Well” is the cry of a girl who was afraid of her own heartbeat. A frightened child who had no one to tell about her fears. This journey is like Dante’s descent into Hell, in which, having reached the depths of my fear, I hope to find peace and humility.
