Woken in the early hours of the morning. I can feel that familiar gnawing pain deep in the back of my skull. It is so comfortable and warm in my bed, I don't want to get up, not yet. Maybe if I lie perfectly still and fold the soft pillow into the gap of my neck I can get a moment of relief. Maybe if I try hard enough to get myself back to sleep it will go away.
But no! The gnawing doesn't give up.
I can feel it radiating like a knife slicing through the precious white matter of my brain and boring a hole through my temple. The pain is unremitting, I know now that I will not be able to sleep.
I drag myself from my cosy haven and ever so gently take myself downstairs in the dark. Every step jars my head and I can feel the impending doom enveloping me. Please not tonight, not tomorrow. How am I going to explain this again to my colleagues. My kids have so much on. So many things to do.
I fossick through my bag for that little blue box. I can almost taste the tablet before I have even slipped it into my mouth, its chemical presence is strong and it lingers on my taste buds way too long. It is now that I realise that it is all too late.
I know my Migraines all too well. I have reached the point of no return, I must get myself to my little den downstairs.
The room is small, dark, cold and quiet, with a hard and unmade bed. It is right next to a cold and damp bathroom where I will retreat to when the nausea becomes too much. It is here where I curl up on the floor with my head propped against the cool, tiled wall with a damp cloth clutched at my temple, as waves of nausea overcome me. It is not pretty!
I am in it for the long haul. I do not know how long I will be here, but I know that a hell of pain will consume me, I will be lost in a world where I will be unable to think, to care, to even breathe.
