I think that my body is holding a lot of grief and tension inside it right now and it's actually making it kind of hard to breathe, which always sounds so melodramatic, but hey, this is my blog so I'm going to come out and say it: I'm having trouble breathing. I've had this problem ever since I was a kid and it comes and goes with seemingly no common cause. When I was little my mom would sometimes ask me why I sighing and I would say but I'm not. I was just breathing. I breathe through my mouth a lot (I know, such a bad habit for a singer) and when this... problem happens I end up having to take big gasping shoulder-heaving breaths just to feel as if I'm getting enough air. And of course the more I think about it the more freaked-out I get and the more it happens, which is why I think it's tension-related. I mean, I had my lungs tested a few years ago, just in case, and the specialist said that my lungs would probably outlast my pension plan. Puffers don't help. Breathing through my nose usually makes me feel panicky. Even writing about it is making me feel tense and like I might cry.
Which is why I totally think it's tension; I think that my body knows (even if my brain doesn't) that I haven't finished grieving about my stepmom yet. Not to mention the incredible tension of standing on stage every night and absorbing all the passion and grief of this powerful Greek tragedy I'm rehearsing. Ninety minutes, no exits, no leaving the stage, no relaxing for a moment because if one of us loses focus, the energy plunges.
Our director warned us that this play would be a workout and we'd have to get in shape. I just never thought it would suffocate me, you know?