I wander from room to room.
aimless
headache that never goes away,
giddiness when I think,
vomiting when I feel like it,
nausea here and there.
I stare at the TV and hate it, yet I continue riveted.
I stare at the laptops and hate it, yet I have nothing else to do.
I want to get out, and when I'm out, its respite is painfully momentary.
I keep talking to myself, wondering which voice is God's,
I go to this room to pray, but I get giddy and I want to get out,
its my own voice, or is it,
my other room is bad, and I berate myself for it.
My sickness is my doing,
but how can it be so?
I pop panadols but I never had to rely on them before,
confused, am I sick or not?
I am sometimes, I am not sometimes.
I go out, I have fun, but they all seem stupidly temporal,
my friends seem distant,
even the best ones cannot understand,
I cannot live in peace with a pastor and leader at home
I flare up,
My thoughts turn vulgar
I do not know why.
Prayer seems like a quickfire temporary solution,
like a shot of morphine for a patient,
where is God?
I have no peace,
I cannot love,
I am not exaggerating.
Is this a test?
Somebody Pray.
God must be in control.