Life in a Bottle

Imagine, if you will, that one day you are told that your ability to function was going to decline to an unknown degree due to the fact that soon something you need to function normally was no longer going to be available.

Such as what if suddenly there was less oxygen in the atmosphere?

How would you feel? How would you react?

Would you deny it until it was too late to attempt to prepare, or would panic rush in and threaten to crumble you? Perhaps the response would be anger, a rage directed at anything or anyone that was close by.

Undeniably, the real emotion that would be felt deep within would be cold fear.

I face that traumatic fear with every battle to acquire the medication that I am required to take in order to calm the demons of my illness.

The count down of security has begun. Yesterday I was soothed by the fact that there was four days left. Today, reality chills me as I swallow my evening dose… three days left.

I have done what I can to stave off the danger. The calls have been made. The resources have been tapped into. I have been told to not worry, that it will be taken care of and what I need shall be provided in time to save me. But the weight of the fear still hangs heavy deep within.

How many more times must I have to endure these moments of torture that threaten to crumble my determination to prevail?

I instinctually know that as long part of my life comes from within a bottle I will have to do battle again.

May I have strength to endure and hang on to the fragile strands of serenity.