Pathetic Pursuit

"Struggle for Existence" at Broomhill Sculpture Gardens

It's a pretty pathetic one, but but I have found a dream that I can carry past age 23. I am holding fast to the possibility of resting from my current fight of existence.

Every day is a struggle anymore. Just to get out of bed is a noteworthy accomplishment. If I have the energy to cook a meal or get laundry done, it's a red-letter day.

I'm exhausted. I'm tired of the war within myself to carry out even the simplest of tasks. My body's convulsions have left me drained, with every muscle fiber and nerve ending aching in intense pain. Dragging myself off the floor after each seizure and pretending it's no big deal is exasperating. I am sick of the massive effort and concentration I expend just to communicate verbally. Simply keeping up with the group's pace, be it walking in the mall or making it to the dinner table on time, overworks me physically and emotionally.

Until recently, my dreams have consisted of performing great works and magnificent acts of service to make a meaningful impact on the world. Now, I just want to survive the next few hours. I find it hard to see past 23 not only because my dreams ran out, but also because living normal life is a mountain looming before me, blocking out the view of anything beyond. My goals now consist of winning the next battle with my failing body. My dream is to arrive at a place where that doesn't have to be my goal.

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