Low is More Than a Number

My mouth is numb.
My blood sugar climbs steadily, but the tingle in my lips and tongue remains.
I can still taste the orange juice, the citrus stirring uneasily in my stomach. 
This is my second severe low today, my body recovering, shaken to the core.
Dizzy and unstable.
Foggy and forlorn. 
Lying in the dark waiting for the storm to pass.
My head throbs.
Refusing to budge, my limbs betray me.
Heavy with unwanted food, eaten in desperation.
Why isn’t it over?
100 and rising.
But I’m continuing to fall.
Clouded in darkness, I remain.
A normal number, but a feeling of anything but.
Why isn’t it over?
There is no end.

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