Hi all
I don't know if this is appropriate but I just came across this poem I wrote a few years ago, during a really bad spell of RLS. I am on meds that work now, so it is not as bad. Please pass over if not interested. I just remember wishing someone could understand so I wrote down my experience...
RLS Reality
Little squiggling worms
Minute tickles and ghostly sensations
Crawling through my feet, gathering in my ankles,
up my legs, encasing my knees
Just stop!
But no, they
march onward...
Encircling my bladder so I can feel it
like a perfect little sculpture in my belly.
Ascending my torso, running up my neck and chasing down my arms
circling my fingers like millions of little creatures
Wiggly, squiggly, tickly
I jerk, pinch, walk, wail...
I want to scream, to die, just die, please let me die!
It’s bad enough in the day
Oh but day is nothing compared to the night
In the still darkness of the night
with all the world quiet, sleep slipping over my skull,
Even the dog is gently snoring, twitching, dreaming.
Soft pillows, gentle piano notes, darkness, doped...
Tendrils of tickles, tiny tingles, tormenting,
relentless, restless, remorseless
running up my muscles and sinews
like mice scampering through a silo.
Everyday, since my memories began.
Relief in the guise of a spanking, so I could cry myself to sleep
Lots of people survive pain
and endure RLS,
And I might be OK with a good sleep.
If I could slip into oblivion at the end of a long day
Restore, regenerate and dream
Dream that tomorrow is a new day
A day that could be better than yesterday
then maybe I could survive
Then maybe you wouldn’t look at me with doubt and pity
and maybe a little bit of judgement too.
But even sleep eludes me,
So I watch the evening approaching
the sun setting
the traffic tapering off
Bedtime beckoning...
Please don’t suggest any routines
Don’t ask me what I’ve tried, just in case I missed something!
I have been tutored in the art of sleep
Drugged into the heart of sleep
Cried myself over and over to sleep.
My sleep centre is screwed.
Sorry if it is all invisible to you
But it is very real to me
So if I look at you blankly or even coolly
Or just turn away from your pep talk.
When you encourage me to
Just get out,
Don’t give up or in or whatever.
Write, draw, just do something!
Please forgive me,
But you don’t really understand
You can’t really understand
And I no longer expect you to.
Instead I forgive you.
Teresa Serenith
Oct 4 2020