I get migraines. And they ain't no fun a'tall.
Though I remember a "more-than-headache" a time or two during my childhood, they started with frequency and severity at 19. I can say with confidence that, for me, they're largely caused by hormones. I do have other triggers, though, as do most: bright light (if you see me out in the sun for any length of time, it will be with both sunglasses and a hat), strong smells (concentrated candles or heavy colognes are the worst), constant sound (an ongoing radio), too much or not enough caffeine (this is sad news for the iced mocha gal)...
Aren't I just a sack of fun?
When a migraine first comes on, it's as pain across my hairline. If it progresses it becomes localized, feeling like an icepick was jammed through the crown of my head. If it worsens yet, the icepick completes its course, coming back out at the nape of my neck.
Pain that bad is a curse, because there's nothing to do but lay in a dark and quiet room. [Past attempts with prescriptions have given mixed results, OTC stuff rarely works. It's time to visit the doctor again.] But wheras my family always assumes I fall into a deep slumber, napping the day away, it's beneath the pillow I lay, awake and in misery. There's this hypersensitivity to any noise or movement, and my thoughts.
My thoughts won't slow up. I might figure out what to do for my best friend's birthday, or remember a bill was due yesterday. And of course thoughts turn to what I could be doing: Writing. Plot ideas and perfect phrases tease me. Blog posts write themselves in my mind. But what a joke! I can't move, let alone sit in front of the bright computer monitor, clackity-clacking away.
I was especially inconvenienced by this migraine, the one that surprised me early yesterday morning and is just now making a pathetic escape out the back door. See, I did really well on my WIP this week - 2000+ words and lots of direction, a newfound feel for my character's voice, in two days. I was going to keep up the pace, too. And then BOOM! The Migraine Fairy mocked me. She said, I'll show you progress. And my efforts were thwarted.
There's always something, doesn't it seem? A distraction, a "cross to bear."
Do you have one?