A Creative Exploration of Chronic Fatigue

Breathe in the scents of spring, admire the beauty flourishing around you and paste a smile upon your face. No one sees what is beneath, no one feels the exhaustion seeping through your veins. In those moments when every step is an effort, only the robin notices. He stands there, upon the bottom most rung of the fence, watching your every move. He does not see a threat in your predator’s stance, for he knows that you could not pounce quick enough to capture his precious heart. Instead he merely stares, watching the sluggish way in which you drag a broken body through each day. It is as though there are weights in every limb, even within your very head. That thick sense of cotton wool, that brick in place of a brain, which does not lift no matter how many hours you spend sinking into the quicksand of a dreamless sleep. If only there were some way to escape this prison of yourself, to wake one morning and feel the energy that others seem to exude. Why was it that your own self decided to turn against you? Decided to deprive you of the chance of a free youth. In moments such as these you question where it all went wrong, seek to find ways to push through the challenges. Incapability morphs into anger and your heart pounds in your chest as it seeks to reconcile wishes with reality. The Furies chose this punishment for you, an existence that does not keep pace with the society in which you live. Instead you must take it easy, must live a half life, sleep as many hours as others are awake. You know that you are not alone, that others experience what you do, know that sleep’s victims walk beside you. But will you ever speak of such moments? Will you ever admit to those closest to you that the positivity of your youth has become a little tarnished. You tell a friend that you are struggling and they do not see what you are, all they say is sleep and wake rested. They cannot imagine a sickness that does not physically appear upon the skin. The manifestation of all you feel can only be seen in those moments when you forget your keys, when you cannot stop eating, when you topple sideways into the arms beside you, unable to understand quite how you tripped. You may not know how, but you certainly know when. You know the exact moment in which you pushed a healthy body over the brink. Falling doesn’t hurt, it happens slowly, unconsciously. It is the landing that hurts. Looking down from the highest point of the mountain, you see the body lying broken many miles below. That moment of contact is so vivid in your mind. If only you could go back, could stop yourself before you hit the ground. One too many late night; falling, falling. Two days of no sleep, eyes not leaving the words swimming into academic being; impact. Just like that the whole world shifted on its axis and there was a need to readjust your perception. How did Alice achieve such a feat? How did she survive a world which was upside down? You do not yet know, but there is hope. In every challenge there is hope.