Since I quit smoking, breathing has been a struggle. Some days it feels like anxiety, other days like something more serious—maybe COPD—or maybe it’s just my body trying to trick me into lighting up again. Whatever it is, it’s been tough. The tight chest, the shallow breaths, the panic that makes me feel like I can’t get enough air.
But today, I discovered something remarkable. When I started drawing, my breathing calmed down. Focus replaced fear. The rhythm of sketching seemed to bring oxygen back into my lungs. It’s like the art took over where the cigarettes left off.
Now I’m sitting in my favorite coffeehouse, iPad open, apple pencil across the table, drawing away the withdrawal. The breathing feels almost normal when I’m lost in my lines. It’s amazing how art heals in ways medicine can’t always explain.
After this, I’ll take my daily walk downtown—another step forward, literally. Every stroke, every breath, every step is a small victory.
I got this.
by Dan and Bonkers
SUPPORT MENTAL HEALTH AWARENESS NOW!!!
