and I am still alive.......
My eyes in fear of residual light remain closed; incoherent noises pound my ears like waves crashing against the shore. I feel so painfully tired despite having slept for twelve solid hours. I can feel that sickly streak of exhaustion running through every fibre of my being, like a fast flowing tributary of hatred and hell. Suicidal tendencies dance a dance of death with promises so enticing, so enchanting, so hypnotic. I am a willing audience, I am always a willing audience.
Breathing has switched to manual as I fall from thirty thousand feet. Forcibly, painfully, and with utter, utter, exhaustion. How did I get to this. The height of summer, but I cannot catch the warmth and even if I could I cannot hope to hold on. Instead I am left to shiver like a leaf on a stormy autumn night.
I cannot dress myself because my skin will feel like it is being torn, like soft paper flaking under the lightest of breezes. Please don't try to embrace me, you don't Know how painful that would be.
My skin, so raw, hairs standing on end, a sheen of salty humidity coagulating into beads of sweat on my forehead, upper lip and under my arms. A putrid stench smoulders a sickly scent into my room, my living coffin.
I succeed in sitting on the end of my bed and open my eyes for the first time. Oh, would you believe me if I told you what a painful transition that was ? My heart beats at over 120bpm and threatens to go faster.
My head hurts like some invisible force is pressing a sharp needle into the deepest recesses of my brain, such is the malevolence of an unseen psychopath.
I focus on the wall in front of me, but I dare not allow my eyes to wander. I am close to passing out, I am almost sick, but it doesn’t come. This is inhumane, please somebody do something, anything.
My muscles ache, like I’ve been beaten for longer than I deserved and more than I could endure. I grind my teeth and press my head against a wall. What have I done to deserve this. Why me, why now. In truth, after fifteen years that question has long since disappeared, like footprints in the sand long since washed away.
Gravity, a heavy pull, like I’m carrying some invisible fiendish demon upon my shoulders, whose leaden tentacles wrap themselves like ivy around my being. If only I could see such grinning gargoyles, what murderous anger I could bestow.
I feel every cell in my body crying out in pain, begging me to stop pushing beyond my limits, and beyond their endurance. I cannot escape the possibility that some unseen force is at work here, that some evil gathering is at play and lingers long after all logic has suggested to the contrary.
This illness has gone nuclear doctor, your dysfunctional fire hydrant just will not do.
Judy Mikovits and the WPI we love you all xxx
My eyes in fear of residual light remain closed; incoherent noises pound my ears like waves crashing against the shore. I feel so painfully tired despite having slept for twelve solid hours. I can feel that sickly streak of exhaustion running through every fibre of my being, like a fast flowing tributary of hatred and hell. Suicidal tendencies dance a dance of death with promises so enticing, so enchanting, so hypnotic. I am a willing audience, I am always a willing audience.
Breathing has switched to manual as I fall from thirty thousand feet. Forcibly, painfully, and with utter, utter, exhaustion. How did I get to this. The height of summer, but I cannot catch the warmth and even if I could I cannot hope to hold on. Instead I am left to shiver like a leaf on a stormy autumn night.
I cannot dress myself because my skin will feel like it is being torn, like soft paper flaking under the lightest of breezes. Please don't try to embrace me, you don't Know how painful that would be.
My skin, so raw, hairs standing on end, a sheen of salty humidity coagulating into beads of sweat on my forehead, upper lip and under my arms. A putrid stench smoulders a sickly scent into my room, my living coffin.
I succeed in sitting on the end of my bed and open my eyes for the first time. Oh, would you believe me if I told you what a painful transition that was ? My heart beats at over 120bpm and threatens to go faster.
My head hurts like some invisible force is pressing a sharp needle into the deepest recesses of my brain, such is the malevolence of an unseen psychopath.
I focus on the wall in front of me, but I dare not allow my eyes to wander. I am close to passing out, I am almost sick, but it doesn’t come. This is inhumane, please somebody do something, anything.
My muscles ache, like I’ve been beaten for longer than I deserved and more than I could endure. I grind my teeth and press my head against a wall. What have I done to deserve this. Why me, why now. In truth, after fifteen years that question has long since disappeared, like footprints in the sand long since washed away.
Gravity, a heavy pull, like I’m carrying some invisible fiendish demon upon my shoulders, whose leaden tentacles wrap themselves like ivy around my being. If only I could see such grinning gargoyles, what murderous anger I could bestow.
I feel every cell in my body crying out in pain, begging me to stop pushing beyond my limits, and beyond their endurance. I cannot escape the possibility that some unseen force is at work here, that some evil gathering is at play and lingers long after all logic has suggested to the contrary.
This illness has gone nuclear doctor, your dysfunctional fire hydrant just will not do.
Judy Mikovits and the WPI we love you all xxx