The Dark Fog

Sometimes I wake up but I don't wake up. It feels like my brain is full of thick cotton and my muscles are full of poison. Everything hurts, but it's mitigated a little by the fact that all I seem able to do is sleep. When eventually, I get out of bed because I have to pee, it's like walking on the deck of a ship during a heavy storm. I cling to walls and furniture to keep from falling. I don't eat anything because the effort of chewing and swallowing is too much. I crawl back in bed and cling to my pillow and float in a dark fog, barely conscious.

When the fog rolls back a little, I sometimes wonder how I managed. I sometimes thing about the people who have it worse, who need feeding tubes and round the clock nursing care. I sometimes worry that someday it will get that bad for me.

But mostly, I go back to sleep.