i have a picture on my desk of me high above the sarasota skyline. strapped to a parachute. looking like a speck amid a vast, cloudy sky. if the photo was a closeup, you'd see me cringing. trying not to pass out. crying a little bit. and you'd notice my tandem talking to me. suggesting that i look around and enjoy the view. reminding me to breathe. i kept breathing and i survived. and today, i'm remembering that. because this type of day makes me wonder how i'll continue for another hour or another minute feeling the way i do. the phantom pain that doesn't seem to originate from anything. leaving me to wonder what caused it. was it something i ate? i've been so good about my diet. and it can't be stress because i've been feeling pretty relaxed. and i've been sleeping enough - too much some might say. and i've been taking the medication and reading the pamphlets and talking to people and asking questions and last night at 810 zone, i drank water. water. i didn't even have a sip of a beer or wine or gin or something that i would have liked to consume. and i didn't order finger food. and later, i found out that the cereal and pita chips i bought have ascorbic acid in them, so i decided to give them away. i've been surviving on turkey, mozzarella and wheat bread. olive oil, cucumber. some salt. and i've been listening to this play list i created. and as i start to get sucked into the emotion as damien rice croons,"i gave me away, i could have knocked off the evening, but i was lonelily looking for someone to hold. in a way i lost all i believe in..." the next song starts. and it's waterdeep. and they remind me - holy is the lord god all mighty. and for a second, everything seems okay. and this pain seems bearable. and this day seems conquerable. because heaven and earth are filled with his glory. and i need something like that to hold on to.