Sometimes

I honestly don't know what's wrong with me.

I'll be going along, the work rolls. Then I hit the wall.

Any little thing sets me reeling into a strange and scary mindset.

This week iit was my Doctor saying I was too happy. I was happy. I was functioning. Creating...
Then I took the pill she told me to take and it stopped all thoughts and abilities. I thought I had my Mojo back a coupla days ago, but then I slipped again. Everywhere is Dark and tired and numb.

The only sort of relief I have is knowing that it will pass. It always does. But my bones and muscles ache with a sort of chaotic static. Stagnant stasis... ugh. Really. My head is killing me and the pain is frighteningly real, even though I know that it's a product of dis-ease. Not fair. Advil doesn't even put a dent in it. My anti-depressent is on strike.

I want to go to school. I want to go to work. I want my art back.
The days without the scaffolding scare me and make my intestines bubble.
I want to be healthy.

But I'm just so damn tired...

I miss my family. My friends. My over-joy.
But I'm in bed. Dead head.