You lost the battle. Perhaps the fact that you survived at all is a kind of victory but it comes at a price. The abdominal pain has retreated but you still feel the impact of the assault from head to foot. You could function if you were forced to--you've worked hard to learn how--but sleep is calling your name and this time you are lucky enough to surrender.
When you wake, the soreness remains from your hands to your feet. You open your eyes and find that your view of the world is vaguely blurred. Your eyes are red, puffy. There's discharge at the corners and crusting on your eyelids. If you didn't know better, you would think that you were coming down with an illness. When you finally see yourself, reflected in some surface, you notice the deadened expression on your face. You're beaten. Defeated. Bruised and scarred. You lost the battle.
Chin up. You still have a chance to win the war.
