I have been narcoleptic most of my life—if not all of my life. For me, the most salient effect this condition has had on my experience of living is that of making it all seem like one very long dream. It is sometimes difficult for me to figure out if I’m really awake, or really asleep for that matter.
Narcolepsy
I live between two realms oppressively trapped,
By force unseen long held repressively trapped.
I never feel alive or fully present,
Halfway in Land of Nod recessively trapped.
Tethered to a plane I can’t escape,
My doom is to remain impressively trapped.
My struggle for coherent mind is constant,
Held by Morpheus’ hand depressively trapped.
I phase like a shade amid the moving world,
By underworld of dreams possessively trapped.
Sometimes seized by an invisible grip,
I fall to paralysis suppressively trapped.
I’m worn by this wrestle for consistency,
Forever snapping back successively trapped.
When will Zahhar rise forth into the light—
Or shall he timeless be regressively trapped?
This is my 16th ghazal.
