Bed Rot

Bed Rot

maybe i died during Lent 

“remember that you are dust, 

and to dust you shall return”

that all too familiar devil 

creeps its way up 

the weaker of my hips 

and strikes like a cobra

maneuvering past my SSRI

Paranoia

have i already died? 

do i only think i’m alive? 

is this my eternal damnation? 

unable to live? 

inable to die?

maybe i didn’t survive 

Coronavirus 

after all

my kidney is on fire

and it climbs my ribcage

another snake latched on my nose 

tethered to some respirator in the end

incapable 

of moving forward, 

unable 

to end it 

trapped

i sleep

if you can call it that

wake in the middle of the night

my diaphragm hard 

like a brick sitting on my chest—belly full 

a balloon about to pop

eventually

i can expel the gas

especially if i 

can get up and move

i begin to worry: 

is it possible to drown on air? 

“severe sleep apnea”

the mask is too 

tight around my ears

i know i could 

just adjust the straps 

but not without compromising the seal around my nostrils—

my primary intake

i leave the mask alone 

better to sink into the pain… 

and the headaches

so tired 

i could fall right back to sleep

i’m so tired 

even in the daylight

i long to 

sleep straight through 

each night

three nights in a row—

worst sleep i’ve ever had

a CPAP is the most inhumane 

thing ever designed

i’d almost rather 

stop breathing

i need a restful night

and hope

“severe sleep apnea”

i begin to feel less

at place among the living

am i soon to be dead? 

is this merely practice? 

how far from my humanity will i stray? 

with a sleep debt growing too large to repay? 

am i already the walking dead? 

when might i feel normal again? 

when was the last time sleep felt right? 

when it came without a chore? 

when it came without a jolt of 

lightning in my legs? 

and a firecracker 

in my heart? 

when did i last have 

enough energy

to do the work of a person 

twice my age? 

i long to 

enjoy my sleep 

and resist the urge 

to stay busy and productive

save me from this panic i’m living

blood work: fine

hormones: fine

thyroid, 

blood sugar, 

testosterone…

FINE, 

FINE, 

FINE!!!

me: 

decidedly 

NOT fine

i refuse 

to believe that 

i

can’t feel better

i long to 

wake each morning 

feeling refreshed with enough 

energy to last the coming 

day

new mask, who dis?

sleep remains 

hit or miss

each night an

interruption of some kind 

some mornings i can not summon 

the energy to get out of bed 

until the last possible minute

paralyzed,

caged in a body that 

cannot function

when i do “wake up” 

it only lasts long enough 

for me to feel the exhaustion 

and the need to fall back asleep

“severe sleep apnea”

2 incidents an hour

down from 12

i long to 

never run late for work

my cognitive decline is 

still in a spiral

i know there are so many unanswered 

texts, 

messages, 

emails, 

phone calls

i see them and 

i’m sorry 

where there once would be 

anxiety and alarm

to reply in a timely manner

now there is only exhaustion at the idea 

of typing something

it’s not that 

i don’t care

i’m just so tired of trying to play 

catch up

can’t sleep

my

my body 

my body is

my body is jerking

my body is jerking while

my body is jerking while wearing 

my body is jerking while wearing the 

my body is jerking while wearing the CPAP

my body is STILL jerking EVEN while wearing the CPAP!

i wake with

no energy or power to 

will my body to 

move and get started with the day

pouring from a cup 

a hole in the bottom 

worried what will happen

when that cup is emptied

how many hours were you conscious yesterday? 

i was lucid 

for only 8

i’ll say that again— 

i was only awake 

for 8 hours

16 hours sleeping 

a completely inverted day

i long to 

get enough sleep 

of a

restful quality

i think to myself, 

“if i am this exhausted at 32, 

what hope do i have to make it to 42? 

what kind of “life” could i hope to have by 62?”

iron tastes like brimstone

maybe i died

and this is hell

sulfur for lunch — be sure to take it with a meal 

a corpse in a coffin 

claustrophobic

any choice that i make 

is no choice at all

to rest

i long to 

wake up with my first alarm 

and never be in a rush

some mornings 

my first thought is 

“how am i going to do this?” 

“how am i going to push myself 

to earn a living today?”

“Honor Thy Consumer.”

even breathing is laborious

i long to 

wake with enough time to 

enjoy a breakfast and 

i’ve learned that eating 

makes me drowsy

in an instant

don’t eat during the days

wait until dinner when i can 

crawl into bed if i need to 

the problem with skipping 

breakfast and lunch is 

i start to feel nauseated 

while i’m working 

my metabolism—

which hasn’t been great 

since i turned 30 is also 

outta whack

can’t fast 

without feeling sick

can’t eat 

without falling asleep

wish i were different

i would tell Robert to hide his handgun, 

but don’t even have the 

energy to kill myself 

Abort Abort Abort

7:30pm—went to bed/fell asleep 

7:30am—slept in/had to be woken up

9:45am—so tired/ready to fall asleep again

everyday

take medical leave for the day

in hopes i can show up for 

others tomorrow

a mental health day

so i can calm enough 

to provide for my family 

tomorrow

i toss the hose over my shoulder

the long hair i always wanted to grow

there is no

resurrection in sight