Sick sick sick

I've been dead for two and a half days - last weekend to be exact. I went home earlier than usual (around 3pm) last Friday because of a head-splitting headache and nausea. I vomited thrice that afternoon and I went into a deep slumber. I have no idea what happened next...

I've been like this - dead on the inside -- for the last couple of weeks. I live through numerous prescription drugs and minimal food intake that I usually take out of my system even before they have stayed long enough in my stomach for digestion. I feel so weak that my eyes hurt at the slight sight of bright lights and my muscles and joints feel perpetually exhausted.

But today morning, I mustered up all the strength that's left in me to go to work. I am probably straining myself too much and the consequences aren't pretty. I wish I could just lie down all day and not worry about work and the pending write-ups that I have. I wish I wouldn't have to stress myself because of yet another delayed release of this magazine I'm handling.

I feel so numb; I'm half-asleep, half-awake. My eyes are open but they don't recognize anything. Everything seems to be dictated by the slow condescending feeling that makes me want to immerse myself in complete isolation. I hear my slow steady breathing but I can't feel my own soul. It left me already.

Why do I feel this dead when I'm still alive?