The Haze Over Pain

It felt like gradually being plunged under water, and the voices were as distant. My eyes don't focus on anything, and when they do they do not wish to. My fingers move slower now. Tasks and ideas have more layers to penetrate, and memories take too much effort to conjure up, let alone replay. My mom said I'd stop ruining my shirts. It mostly feels like I left a part of me at home. I cannot see the proper breadth while driving and my conversations are the only thing more scattered than my thought process. It's the sensation of leaving the iron on; one thought at a time. I was given the scope for major change and self fulfillment, but I am not me, still in my head, only less is accessible.