This is Migraine

Yesterday was bad. Migraine-wise.
I was in a wonderful mood in the morning. I got things done, took the dog for a long walk in the beautiful spring weather, felt like I could kick the world's ass even if my head hurt.

Around noon I needed to lay down from all my morning ass-kicking. I then spent the next five hours dreaming about how dizzy and sick I was, waking up to a sweaty and exploding self chugging water and thinking, "Why? Did I take the wrong pills? Is all this from that tiny bit of chocolate I ate yesterday? It's beautiful out! Why? Why? Why?" I'd be back asleep dreaming angry things again, screaming at my father, then out somewhere stuck and incapacitated and helpless.

Around 5:30 I woke up for real. The pain was clearly pain instead of all the other things that make me crazy.

I have no memory of anything between waking up and the storm, even though it was just yesterday. I know it was already raining when I walked my dog. I may have been on the computer or eaten or done any number of mundane tasks, but I can't find it in my memory. I know people block out terrible things that happen and chronic pain leads to memory loss and all of that. It makes sense that I unconsciously refuse to imprint anything during a migraine. Still, it's very creepy to turn around and see nothing where your immediate past should be.

Then the storm broke. A real one, not just in my head. Thunder, lightning, my dog completely terrified. I felt guilty my dog spent the sunny warm part of the day snuggling me in bed and the stormy gross part of the day staring at me trying to accomplish something. But the storm justified my migraine; it was an echo of my experience earlier in the day. The hail against my windows had me giddy with gratification; it was my migraine, now escaped and showing the rest of the world what it had done to me in the afternoon.
I wanted to scream, "Do you see that? See that hail? See how hard it's pounding? Do you get it now? Do you get it? Now you can see it! Now you can feel it too!"

When I woke up this morning, it was nice out again. My head predicts another night of rain. A little bit dizzy, a lot of the weird zapping from everywhere, a lot of feeling like I haven't eaten even though I'm eating.

I had to go to the post office to mail a package. The sun was warm and shiny. I stood directly facing it and closed my eyes. It felt wonderful to have something that singular and bright and all-consuming. All the sharp little light sources that press and buzz and ache and tingle were nothing. This one beautiful source did not hurt. It felt healing and buttery. Then I crossed the street.

Now? I miss people. I'm saving my shots for tomorrow so I can go see Billy Elliot with Possible Boy for his birthday, so tonight I ride out the pain again. My house is a complete mess and I hate it so hopefully I'll be up to cleaning some before I crash completely. Otherwise, it's another night of convincing myself I'm this strong warrior, doing things that look like I'm a productive member of society, watching Hulu and DVDs when all I want to do is watch Hulu and DVDs, and making small efforts to contact friends with lives somewhere outside my head.