Rachel Kingsland
My mind begins to blur and I can see the tiny speck of fog, Like steam rising from the hot pavement it grows slowly before my eyes. I can't believe this is happening again, After all, it's only been a few days since the last one.
I am overcome by a sick sensation as my vision disappears before me. My doctors refer to this as an "aura." I think they should rename it "hell."
Grabbing my bottle of pills I head for the darkest room in the house. I take as many of them as I'm allowed and pray to God that this one won't be "so bad."
Realizing it's too late for prayers I crawl into bed. I pull the covers up over me head, Total darkness surrounds me now... Sleep's the only cure, But when? and how?
A shooting pain and then another, the nausea comes and goes, but the pain is the worst. I grab the heating pad in hopes that it will ease the throbbing, but it doesn't. I close my eyes tightly and the tears begin to fall.
I cry out into the darkness for someone, anyone to "please just help me!" But they can't... no one can.
No one can make the pain go away, nor can they make it any better. I pray for sleep. I pray for relief. Sometimes I think I'll die, and then sometimes I'm afraid I'll have to live with this forever.
Experiencing this kind of pain has made me stronger, yes. But it's made me weaker too... And I'm not sure how much weaker I can get before I give up hope.
Sleep comes at last and when I wake the pain has eased. I lay there for awhile, tears running down my cheeks, exhausted, relieved, euphoric. I think to myself... Another migraine gone... Who knows how many more to come.
THIS is MY pain.
Next: My Pain