Just one dream, not a whole lifetime
Why I strive to remain so strong is phenomenal. So much of me these last couple of days, should have collapsed but no. Just the usual suspects of hives, rashes and nausea. Coupled with weakened muscles and trouble swallowing.
Just a fun ball of wax. Indeed just tomorrow I have one more day, after, in my 11 day stretch of work. I AM TIRED. In fact beyond that. But I have been good to keep going. Even in the moments of high stress. I just sigh because there are parts of me I haven't known existed in several years.
Still I am sleepy and fighting the itching all over. Sure it sounds like allergies and such but I know it is higher events of stress. If only I could just take those few days off now. Not return to work for a whole week. The tiny bliss that my bank account would be filled with time I actually pushed hard work around. Mentally and physically.
Yet I laugh.
Slow breathing. Just trying to relax and settle the night down. A high hope for sure.
And still my mind unwinds. The mental part is down. The physical part not so much. The only thing that I debate over currently is how low is my breath going to be in the next round. Which part of me tickles the next.
Oh but not in a good sense.
I am trying to maintain this positive focus. This piece of me that needs to stay focused on the strength I have inside.
Yes I fool myself in so many ways. Tonight I just want to sleep. Go to bed and sleep. No scratching, no crying and certainly no pain. Yet all three trump every night. I just make the choice in the morning to keep moving forward.
I am smiling big on my crashing days. Even on the days that I am mutilated under a bus a few times. I still keep that just fine mode going. Even if I am a little slower and visiting the porcelain throne for waves of nausea. I still make it. With bread crumbs.
Now just coughing. Praying. Hoping.
And yet I am not complaining. Just expressing the qualities of a crash and what it is like to be in the extremist categories. Yet I still sing a song of hope.
Sure. Knock me down. Demand that I stay still and heal. No one listens but the soreness and the weakness. I just allow the pieces to be torn worse. Scattering until the collapse is there. Praying that just 5 days of sleep would be granted with full medical pay.
Oh how I dream of that.
Silly. But still a dream.
And I hope one day is real. Even if it is just for the 5 days. Not a lifetime.
yes. I did almost beg.
Just a fun ball of wax. Indeed just tomorrow I have one more day, after, in my 11 day stretch of work. I AM TIRED. In fact beyond that. But I have been good to keep going. Even in the moments of high stress. I just sigh because there are parts of me I haven't known existed in several years.
Still I am sleepy and fighting the itching all over. Sure it sounds like allergies and such but I know it is higher events of stress. If only I could just take those few days off now. Not return to work for a whole week. The tiny bliss that my bank account would be filled with time I actually pushed hard work around. Mentally and physically.
Yet I laugh.
Slow breathing. Just trying to relax and settle the night down. A high hope for sure.
And still my mind unwinds. The mental part is down. The physical part not so much. The only thing that I debate over currently is how low is my breath going to be in the next round. Which part of me tickles the next.
Oh but not in a good sense.
I am trying to maintain this positive focus. This piece of me that needs to stay focused on the strength I have inside.
Yes I fool myself in so many ways. Tonight I just want to sleep. Go to bed and sleep. No scratching, no crying and certainly no pain. Yet all three trump every night. I just make the choice in the morning to keep moving forward.
I am smiling big on my crashing days. Even on the days that I am mutilated under a bus a few times. I still keep that just fine mode going. Even if I am a little slower and visiting the porcelain throne for waves of nausea. I still make it. With bread crumbs.
Now just coughing. Praying. Hoping.
And yet I am not complaining. Just expressing the qualities of a crash and what it is like to be in the extremist categories. Yet I still sing a song of hope.
Sure. Knock me down. Demand that I stay still and heal. No one listens but the soreness and the weakness. I just allow the pieces to be torn worse. Scattering until the collapse is there. Praying that just 5 days of sleep would be granted with full medical pay.
Oh how I dream of that.
Silly. But still a dream.
And I hope one day is real. Even if it is just for the 5 days. Not a lifetime.
yes. I did almost beg.
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