Chronic Fatigue
YouYou scum of the earth
Faceless, nameless thing.
That which takes from me, taking more with each sunrise.
Sleep does not rid me of you, though it should.
"Nothing is wrong with you"
Specialist hot potato.
Staying up late at night to punish my body because I'll be tired anyway.
Might as well live just a little more than I have the energy to.
Thinking
"Maybe if I push it, my body will rise to meet the occasion"
Delusionally
"I am the captain of this ship, my body, and
It. Will. Obey."
But she remains disobedient.
Defiant in every action.
Everything takes so much energy.
Tired's sister, sickness, will often visit.
And then fatigue is simply the triplet for which her weight is exponential.
A burden I am so encumbered by, but forced to carry.
Two and a half years and I just keep getting more tired.
Fatigue trudges on, and so must I.
... But I am so tired.
Rest does not find me, although I am not hiding.
I chase after her and she alludes me every time!
Rejuvenation and meaningful recovery laugh at me.
Waiting to find out way I repel the things I need the most is awful.
I sometimes forget my valid and real experiences -
"Maybe it's just a dream?"
"Am I sure I'm just not making it up for attention?"
"Maybe it's not as big as a deal as I think it is - maybe everyone struggles like this and I'm just complaining about nothing!"
... Except my body moves like it is drowned in thick mud.
This earth tries so hard to pull me under.
Each decision, every breath takes energy I simply don't have.
Crying will make me feel better, but then I am even more drained than I was before.
At what point will my body become the dried up husk that it feels like it is?
When will the last of my living water be evaporated?
So that the dried husk of who I am can peacefully crumble and roll into the wind?
... I am beyond tired.
Words by Sarah Parnes
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Written on 2024-03-23 at 05:35
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Alan J Ripley |
