Exhaustion

Every day I am more tired than the day before.  And yet, I can not become sleepy at a reasonable time.  I lay in my bed with the vague notion that I SHOULD be in bed, but then I stay up reading.  It is as if I am incapable of doing what is rational and necessary, as in going to bed at a decent hour.
I am not sure how much of my exhaustion is due to being off my meds or due to my crappy sleep patterns.  I truly believe most of it is due to the meds, because I feel the same exact way even if I have had several nights of good, long sleep.  On the weekends I feel the same way.
Last night I woke up in the middle of the night.  I moved into the spare bedroom so that I can sleep with the ceiling fan and the box fan on.  I have to have a fan of some sort on in the spring or summer so that my night sweats don’t get out of control.  When I got up to go to the other room, I barely had the strength to pick up and carry my pillows, and I stumbled into the other room feeling so utterly on the edge of physical collapse.  It was the kind of exhaustion and weakness that leaves a person trembling.  My heart was racing and it took a long time for it to get back to a normal pace and rhythm.
I woke up to a huge storm raging outside, literally.  The rain was coming down thick and hard, and my house was filled with repeated flashes of hard lightening, flinging and crashing it’s fury all around me.  It was a perfect analogy to the storm that rages inside me, the viral storm that struggles to regain my body, and the equally though less effective fight my body takes up against this microscopic foe.  
It is sad that I do not take better care of myself.  I don’t sleep properly, nor do I eat food that is good for me.  I treat myself not as well as I should.  There is that word...should.  I am making an objective experience into a subjective one, adding unnecessary layers of emotions and roadblocks.  
Having HIV and being off my meds makes me feel like I am roller skating on a giant Mobius strip made of the slickest ice.  I feel as though I am one wrong move ahead of calamity.  I never realized before how truly worried I am about not being on my meds.  It is like being in the middle of an ocean and you loose grip of your lifeboat.  You can see if slowly drifting away from you and you want to get back in the boat, yet the huge waves and frigid water make it nearly impossible to swim towards the boat.  And exhaustion keeps you unable to crawl back into the boat.

I am rambling now, which is unhelpful.  

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