Tides of the Storm
Crashing is synonymous with CFS, a state of bodily destruction for which you often do not know the cause but that can come upon you with little regard for what you might have planned in life.
Pulled under by the unrelenting tide of another crash, it is hard not to at times feel suffocated by the merciless pressure exerted against my fragile body.
Time crawls by while still I tumble about in this ocean of madness for how could an illness such as this be anything sane.
Day blends into day as time passes along without me. Now and then I come up for air, the gasping of breath painful in my ears before I feel the tug of the tide pulling me down once more.
This limbo of increased pain, fatigue so great I feel hardly able to sit to eat most meals, and incredible cloudiness to my thoughts all blend into a background mosaic upon which is seen the anguish of my homelessness in sharp relief.
Life passes on, the tide rolls in and with it I am consumed once more.