By Jen Engevik
Last evening I went to my yoga class— the one I go to every Monday. My day had been as busy as usual, and I was happy to be on my mat.
昨晚，我去上了瑜伽课，每个礼拜一过去是我的惯例。生活一如往日忙碌不堪，因此，每逢瑜伽课，我都欣然前往。
The instructor entered the warm room and began guiding us into a resting pose. As I flattened my palms to my mat, I suddenly felt as though I couldn’t get enough oxygen and became a bit disconnected from my body.
房间还算暖和，教练进来，引导大家来做瑜伽休息术。手掌碰触瑜伽垫的一瞬，自己如同缺氧般，有种想要灵魂出窍的感觉。
The next thing I knew I felt very small and alone. I was reminded that all of my safety nets are gone. My father is dead— I recently lost my mother to a battle with cancer — and I have so much to accomplish in the coming days.
紧接着，卑微无助之情涌上心头。父亲早已身在天堂，而母亲挺不过癌症煎熬，不久前也不在了。念到守护我的双亲都离我而去，未来的日子不知如何是好。
As I lay there with my head on my yoga mat, the palms of my hands became sweaty. My mind reeled further into oblivion. I felt so small, and the weight of the world seemed unusually heavy.
我仰面躺在垫子上，手心开始冒汗，思绪渐乱，直至茫然。感受着自己的无比卑微，体会着不一般的人世艰难。
I was reminded of the challenges I had faced in my past. After my father died when I was 10, I was plagued with panic attacks.
不觉想起了自己曾经面对过的种种挑战。父亲不在那年，我才10岁。惶恐每每袭来，我倍受折磨，痛不欲生。
One night shortly after dad died, my brother, one of his friends, and I drove on a deserted road somewhere between central and southern California. As we inched closer to home, I thought about my dad. I wondered where he was and how he could exist one moment and be gone the next.
父亲过世不久，有天晚上，哥哥驱车带着我和他的一位朋友，行驶在加州中北部不知何处的一条废弃公路上。车开得不快，临到家前，我念起父亲，想知道他魂归何处。为何前一刻父亲还在我面前，下一刻却永世不得相见？
Before I knew it, my mind was spinning out of control. I didn’t understand why I was on this massive planet spinning around in a limitless universe. It occurred to me that my world would never be the same. I’d never see my father’s smile again or be able to hear his voice. And so, I experienced the deepest existential crisis I had ever known as a 10-year-old.
还没待弄明白，我的思绪就变得如同脱缰野马，无法驾驭。着实不解，为何在无垠宇宙中，我会身处于这转来转去的大行星上。一个念头袭来，我的世界再也不会一如既往，自己再也不能重温父亲的音容笑貌。就这样，年仅10岁的我体验到了最为深刻的存在危机。
“Stop the car, please!” I cried out to my brother. He did. I got out on the side of the road and cried my eyes out. It was a dark summer evening, and I paced back and forth. The moon was overhead, maybe wondering how it could best soothe my panic.
“停车，拜托！”我朝哥哥大喊。车停了，我下来跑到路边，来回踱着步，哭得稀里哗啦。那个夏夜，月儿当空高悬，或许想抚慰我那颗诚惶诚恐的心，不过也无能为力，终抵不过夜的黑。
Fast forward 29 years later. On my yoga mat, I felt the same shock to the system. I thought of my Mom’s soul. Is it drifting around in outer space? Is she with God? Will I ever be able to talk to her again?
转瞬间，过去了二十九年。在瑜伽课上，我再次感受到了同样的内心冲击。念起母亲，念着她的灵魂是否飘荡在外太空？念着她是否和神灵同在? 念着她是否还能对我嘘寒问暖？
I rolled over onto my back and tried to fill my lungs with air. Should I leave the room and go huddle in the bathroom? Should I tell my instructor I need support?
我卷起腿，背靠着垫子，试着让肺部多容纳些空气。思忖着自己是否该离开这里蜷缩到洗手间？还是告诉教练我的无助？
And then somehow it happened…I was able to gather myself— my soul — my wits — and I began pushing through my fears. I didn’t run or ask for help.
就在那时，不可思议的事情发生了......我变得能够控制住自我、控制住灵魂、控制住理智，开始战胜恐惧。最后，我没有跑掉，也没向人求助。
I’ve been reading lately about what it means to return to the core of my being. To submit myself to the understanding that everyone and everything around me may fall away, but I have enough strength to make it through.
近来我一直在读书，学习回归自我核心的意义，想要刻意增加自己对“物是人非”的认同感。不过，度过煎熬，我已能得心应手。
Throughout my lifetime, my Mom served as a prime example of a brave hero. Not that she didn’t have her fears — she had plenty. However, she taught me that when your worst fears come to life, the key is to not let it drive you to overreact.
在我有生之年，母亲一直是我的英勇典范。不是说她从不害怕，其实她也害怕。然而她却教我，在生活中遇到最令人恐惧的事情时，避免反应过激才是关键。
“Jen, if you ever feel yourself getting overwhelmed, just try your hardest to relax your body,” she’d tell me. “The more you panic, the worse it will be.” Her words echoed through my mind.
“简，如果你觉得自己快要撑不住了，试着努力让自己的身体放松。” 母亲曾对我说，“你越恐慌，事情就变得越糟糕。” 她的话时刻回荡在我耳边。
I realized on my yoga mat that I didn’t want to be the kid that demanded the car be pulled over. Or to ask for another human being to shoulder my burden. No, I wanted to be like my mother, who when my father died of a massive heart attack, stood strong and said, “What do I need to do next. There is so much life still for my family to experience.”
在瑜伽课上我意识到，自己并不想成为当年那个要求停车的小姑娘，也不想让他人帮我排忧解难。是的，我要成为母亲那样的人----面对父亲因心肌梗死离世时，她依然能坚挺地站着说，“之后我还能怎么做，我要带着我的子女好好活下去。”
As my yoga instructor gave the next cue, I made the concrete decision to push through. To allow for my panic to make its way through my body and then be released back into the universe as positive energy.
瑜伽教练给出下一条动作提示的时候，我坚定决心，要渡过难关，让我的惶恐变成一种正能量，顺其自然穿身而过，最后回归宇宙。
Movement by movement I began to gain strength, and by the end of class I was fueled with POWER.
一个动作接着一个动作，我开始恢复力气。临下课时，我已重焕生机。
I’m learning day by day how to live life without my Mom and the loving support she provided me on a daily basis. Actually, I know that Mom is here with me now. She lives in my mind and within every fiber of my being. I can recall her knowledge any time I want and apply it to my life.
以后的日子不会再有母亲相伴，也不会再有母亲给予的关爱，而我每天都在学习如何适从这样的生活，日复一日。平心而言，此刻母亲并未离我远去。她活在我的心中，融在我的身体里。只要需要，我便能随时回想起她教过我的学问，并运用于我的生活中。
原文链接：https://firsttoknow.com/overcoming-panic-attacks-how-my-dead-mom-helped-me/?utm_medium=310315&ck=3849bb6ce84c3798b89936d421cce6fd&utm_source=contentad_backfill
译者：巴比伦塔
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