I’ve been doing some guided journaling with prompts in my personal journals and one of the prompts was to describe something that is happening with my body, without emotions, but the physical manifestation only. Suggestions were sex, work, etc. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do until my head started twinging and I knew what was coming.
I’m sitting in church, listening to the sermon, under the florescent lights and it begins. I feel a twinge over my brow. It is always like this under the bright, white lights. I take a deep breath and try to concentrate. It isn’t easy, I know what is coming. I glance at my watch and wonder how much longer I can sit here. A small pulsing begins to take form in my head and I know it won’t be long until it spreads.
I feel the pain inching its way across my forehead. UGH! Not now. I try to listen to what the Pastor is saying; but it is a lost cause. I am trapped in the ugliness. Time ticks by second by second. I can almost feel the second hand on my watch moving slowly around the dial.
Slow, steady breaths, in and out. Trying to hold it together until the last Amen. My stomach begins to turn. Great, the nausea is starting. I pray to God that I won’t throw up. I stand up for the benediction and quickly escape to the exit. I leave so as not to have to talk to anyone. So I do not have to stay another second under those lights.
The car ride home is a blur as I am lost in my body. It takes all that I have within me to make it to the front door. Pain lashes my head, spreading rapidly, outward and inward. I’ve squinted my eyes from the harsh lights. I have no music on; because the thought of a noise will make me implode. Breathing in and out.
The car air freshener is making the nausea worse. I want to throw it out the window; but I don’t; because the effort is way too much.
I pull in the driveway and stumble to the door. I go inside, grateful I can lay down. I pop 3 Excedrin, go to my room, strip out of my clothes, climb in bed and pray for relief. It is pitch black in here. Perfect.
I lay on the bed, not moving a muscle. If I move, the pain will shift and lance through me once again. I do what I hate to do in these times…..I concentrate on the pain. Each beat of my heart has the pain pulsing through my head. My hair hurts. I am paralyzed by my thoughts as my focus is intently on the crushing, violent stabbing going on inside my body.
I’m sweating. I shiver. My stomach is rolling. I can hear noise in the distance, as if a thousand buzzing flies are somewhere close by. Don’t concentrate on the pain. It’s too much to handle. Let me black out. Time is my enemy as the seconds turn to minutes. I feel each one of them as they slowly drone on.
Zap. Stab. Throb. Pain so crushing I think my head will cave in, my sight will disappear and my stomach will empty its contents all over the place.
Praying, praying, praying. “God, help me through this pain.” I say it over and over and over again. Nothing seems to help. The meds take too long to kick in. The internal struggle is torture. It is days like this that I hate my body.
I finally drift away in oblivion. I pray rest will restore my body. I am so weak. Migraine hang over will soon encompass me and I hate that almost as much as the Migraine itself.