British Snoring & Sleep Apnoea Association

So I wrote this poem on the 4th of November around a week before I was diagnosed with OSA, it was written at work as an attempt to stay awake and characterised the daily battle I faced (which had been going on for about 5 months) to try and stay awake as the majority of my day was spent in a semi-awake, hallucination dream like state, head bobbing back and forth violently needing to sleep but equally knowing I had to stay awake, avoid embarrassment and get my work done, as I had been pulled in about my productivity and didn't want to lose my job. I wrote the lines whilst fighting the grip of one of these moments, it felt like invasion and that's something I tried to capture. I'm sure if you're an fellow OSA-er who has suffered or still suffers from daytime sleepiness you'll know exactly what I mean. The creature of sleep stalks us all.

On the plus side I've been on the Cpap treatment now since mid-November and am happy to say that although getting used to the machine has been a battle in itself it is worth it as I have myself back again.

So I thought I would share.

Apnea

Twisted shapes, narrow shadows, widening forms, gradually rising before contracting; softly dancing behind my eyes.
The body is weak, indifferent, only the will fights, left utterly alone on a bare plane; faint sound, cold air, bright lights.
This enemy is intimately known, it beckons me to allow it unconditional entry; "Sleep" it calls out from the warm dark recesses.
In the guise of a friend it embraces me, alluring whispers dulling my senses, engulfing, caressing; slow, sly attempts to seduce.
Momentarily overcome, the harsh light fades, the noise recedes; now victim of a stealthful attack, deadly, relentless, effective,
Recognising this dangerous apparition, I shake off the shifting series of phantasms, condemning it's indulgent intentions.
Rejected, angered by my resolution, it begins tactics which confuse and disorientate, forcing, offering no means of escape.
Attempts to deny it, to cast it into exile ultimately prove futile; despite my protests, it knows I want what it offers, my refusal merely superficial.
My head lowering, silently I submit and finally accept my fate, granting it control, strength fails, will falters; there is no more resistance.
Everything real fades in tiny increments, dream and reality weaving together; an intoxicating blend of illusion and hijacked perception.
I allow this demon to invade me completely, descending into something deeper, darker, comforting; the mental smothered, the physical restrained.
As I hold my breath, balancing on the brink of black oblivion there is a familiar tap on my shoulder; a rescue; a rush of colour, a roar of sound.
Awareness reinstated, my sensation regained I can do nothing but wait; the creature is still stalking me, knowing my detest and desire for it is in equal measure.

Its a picture that evokes emotions that I remember quite well. That gnawing feeling of 'just a few minutes sleep and I'll feel better' is becoming a distant memory.

thanks
Jon