Julie D. Summers

“Unknowingly, I had set the stage to grieve. I did not have to answer to anyone, and I was alone to grieve. I went to bed. Waking up, it felt as if a big, fat child were sitting on me, pushing the life out of me, trying to squeeze me into a pancake. The pain had tentacles and they would grab my back, squeezing me. My back and chest were locked in a painful, vise-like grip. “Breathe, breathe,” I told myself. I couldn’t breathe, and hoped I would get very small and disappear. I am going to have a heart attack, I thought. “Take my heart out of my body, please God.” I prayed. “If not, then I will forget my body because this is too much to bear.” My heart feels like it is getting bigger. It is too big for my body. Surely it must explode. Big tears fall, just fall out, slowly and constantly. I don’t blink very often, there is no need. I can’t let anything in.”
― Julie D Summers, Off My Knees: From Skid Row to Sunset Boulevard