You take a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other. There is no other option. Well, actually there is one other option– death. But you try to push this from your mind to avoid panic. The pervasive panic that crept up the back of your throat as you realized what was wrong. You had made a grave mistake and miscalculation. You had consumed too much and it was too late to take it back. You could feel the bile at the back of your throat as you felt the bottom of your stomach drop out.
You remember at first your body felt drunk, while your thoughts were so crisp and clear. When you tried to speak, your words tumbled out of your mouth in chaos. That was when the frantic moment of panic first set in. You felt dumb and lost, like a five year old who had wandered away from her mother. You felt scared, determined, disappointed. Frustrated, so frustrated. Defeated. But survival. Survival meant popping pistachio shells in your mouth like hard candies. Salt.
Survival meant putting one foot in front of the other. Something you knew before the EMT told you the next day that you were both lucky and smart.
It is when we stop putting one foot in front of the other that we cease reaching beyond survival, and become content to be a victim of our situation and surroundings.