Dark clouds

Dark clouds hang in the unknown, strange mountains. I walk through a deep, narrow valley. Fog only hints at the surroundings. Shadows reach out for me, only at night do they leave me in peace. For days, weeks, I walk this path. I will walk it bravely to the end, because after bad days comes sunshine again.

Dark clouds

It's already the second week. As soon as the body exerts itself, and it doesn't even have to be physical, sweat breaks out of every pore. The fog returns and I fall into a deep, restless sleep. Back in that valley, I try to find the exit, always afraid that there isn't one. Drenched in sweat, I then wake up again and have a drink. In other words, I stand at the stern, dip the bucket into the water and let the full bucket pour over me. It doesn't help to clear the fog from my head, but it makes me feel that I'm still alive. I'm not so sure about that in some phases.

Tomb

Inside, a campfire has turned into a forest fire. I now drink three to four liters a day. Even that doesn't seem enough. Obviously I can't do my body justice at the moment. An invisible hand pulls me back into the valley. It's hot here. It's cold at night. I don't want to be here, but I keep coming back. I can't even tell if it's always the same place or if I'm somehow making progress in the valley. To the question I've long since stopped hearing: "How are you?", I only answer "fine". How am I supposed to describe the narrow valley to someone whose surroundings I can barely recognize and only dimly perceive? Somehow I can't get any further here, I think I'll take a nap first.

Drums

Let's try a wine spritzer. Maybe that will awaken our spirits. Exactly, spirits of life, where have they actually gone? Those damned spirits of life, whenever you need them, they're not there. It's about time they slowly found their way back. Maybe they've just run ahead in this damn valley and I'll find them again further ahead. Incidentally, I have the feeling that the valley is getting wider. The footsteps no longer echo on the walls. I also manage longer distances at night. Last night I only had one interruption. In the morning I'm still pretty exhausted, but it's the little things that show the success. Like at the beginning of this week, when the unspeakable headaches finally started to subside. Just in time for Christmas Eve, when we hosted Tuvalu. We had meatballs with potato salad and coleslaw. I'm only aware of everything in a haze, but I notice that something is changing in my body. It's not working with the food yet either. I'm full after two bites. But I can still drink without end. It's not quite as hot today and there's no sunshine, which is a relief for my battered body. Tomorrow will be much better, the valley will become wider and wider and the fog will gradually lift. With this in mind, fair winds and keep a stiff upper lip.