I’m one of those accursed souls who live with the dreaded Chronic Migraine. Not everyone understands the immense level of pain, so I decided to draw it. Drawing with the attack in full-swing proved impossible, so I waited until most of the pain passed and I could manage to hold a pencil in my hand. This is how it turned out.
It sneaks up on me like tiny, but persistent pins in various places around my scalp. But I’m hopeful that it might only be a normal headache that will fade with some rest. At this stage I’m still able to think cogently and work, but the terror of what’s coming is burrowing its claws into the base of my skull. Please let this be a feeble headache.
Houston we have a migraine. It’s clear that this is more than a mere headache. The crescendo of pain is hammering away at my concentration, and thoughts are becoming incoherent. My face feels slightly numb and I check to make sure its still there. My scalp is almost tearing itself from my head. The pain feels eternal and conjured the most horrible nausea. In the confines of darkness I wonder if I’m in hell.
After a few eternal hours I’ve finally expelled the nausea. I’ve accepted my fate. The pain is woven so deeply into my head that life before it seems distant and imaginary. Consciousness is difficult to hold onto. Exhaustion overwhelms me and soon I’m falling into a fitful sleep, dreaming about fragments of everything while the pieces of my brain seemingly float around me.
I survived this again. The pain has passed and I’m left with a thick slurry of clouds in my head. Everything feels precariously stitched together. It’s difficult to hold onto thoughts and fight though the thick fog. Somewhere there’s still a phantom hammer echoing through the corridors of my head, but I’m okay now at least.
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