#Pain #Depression #Isolation #Dark #Sad #Alone #Society

Vertigo’s Vortex

Vertigo Vortex

 

 

Spinning, spiralling, sight
slips away—senses swirl
in a dizzying dance. Teetering
on the edge of today,

 

 

vestibular void, a vertiginous
trance. Walls warp and waver,
floors flee from feet. Whispers
of weakness weave through my bones.

 

 

Cane-less, I crawl
through concrete and sleet.
Invisible illness,
unheard are my groans.

 

 

Meds out of reach,
a mountain too high.
Poisoned by poverty's
putrid embrace.

 

 

Pain pulses, pounding—
a silent cry.
Four paces forward?
An impossible race.

 

 

Autism's armor,
depression's dark veil,
fibro's fierce fire,
anxiety's ache.

 

 

cPTSD's prison,
where memories
wail.

 

 

A body betrayed,
a mind wide awake.
Kyphosis curves, a question
mark spine. Vertigo's victim,
left side askew.

 

 

Migraine's mad music,
a discordant whine.
Sleep's siren song—
a dream never true.

 

 

Alone
in the abyss,
no tribe to claim.

 

 

Gaslighted, ghosted—
a specter unseen.

Society's silence
amplifies shame.

 

 

Existing,
not living,
caught
in
between.

 

 

Oh, how they'd shudder
if they could feel
the weight of this world,
this body, this mind.

 

 

Compassion's a coin
they refuse to deal,
for those who are broken,
abandoned, maligned.

 

 

Yet still I type,
fingers trembling,
a voice in the void,
a flicker of light.

 

 

Though body and spirit
are crumbling,
I reach through the darkness,
grasping
for
sight.

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Since Wednesday of last week, I've been grappling with a particularly intense and relentless flare-up of my unilateral canal paresis. It has left me struggling to see clearly and unable to walk more than a few steps. The challenges don’t stop there; I ran out of SRNIs on Friday and found myself in the distressing position of being unable to secure food. I did manage to eat something, but it was past its expiration date and resulted in a bout of food poisoning. This condition has no cure, and after enduring it — along with so much else — for over 20 years, I feel utterly exhausted. To be clear, it’s not truly living or surviving; it’s simply existing. It’s striking, almost heartbreaking, how we often extend more compassion to animals, which speaks volumes when you take a moment to reflect on it. I broke into tears this afternoon, desperately trying to pull myself together to see a client. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it didn’t help; it only heightened the nausea and took everything in me to keep it together. I managed to see them—why, when I was unwell?—because how else does one maintain a roof over one’s head? Ultimately, I had to rush out, teetering on the edge of a deeply embarrassing and unceremonious collapse. For reasons still unknown, I scribbled out this poem—an unexpected burst of speed unlike anything I’ve experienced before. Admittedly, drawing on the same themes I’ve tried to express for years probably played a role in that flow.

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