Vertigo

She knocks back a rainbow of pills with half a bottle of wine

and falls down on the bed in her jeans.

The ceiling fan whirs too quickly for her to count the blades

but she tries anyway. Anything

to loosen her mind.

She worked hard today.

She got the oil changed in her car (human interaction),

went grocery shopping (hiding her shame at checkout),

and made it halfway to a coffee date with an old friend

before chickening out and texting that she was sick.

Back at home she ate half her food and then puked it up.

She picked scabs off some recent injuries.

Still her heart pounds.

The ceiling fan makes her dizzy.

The bed begins to spin and she closes her eyes, hanging on tight,

wondering when it will end.