Easy Like Sunday Morning

I like the title, but it doesn’t describe this particular Sunday morning. I’ve had the headache since six last night. I haven’t taken my meds because I hate poppin’ the pills, I hate the high that comes after, and while I’m grateful that the pain stops, I hate that I have it in the first place and all of that hate combined outweighs the bit of peace that comes when the pain goes away.  So instead, I decided to sit with the pain.

I slept in spurts of a couple hours between 10:30 and 8 this morning. Each time, I woke to the pain in my temple radiating down behind my ear and on into my neck and shoulder. At some point my sinuses decided they needed to join in. I found my nasal passage swollen shut on the same side as the pain in my head so both kept time using my pulse as the down beat which meant the space beneath my eye throbbed in accompaniment.

I had dreams of spiders, not having enough money, and of being an actress in an action movie for which I was to do many of my own stunts. I trained with swords at one point; the moves designed for a well limbered dancer which meant I pulled almost every muscle I have in my lower body, sprained one ankle and one knee, but couldn’t admit to the pain because that would mess up the production. I dreamt in pain.

And now, this morning, I am tired. Angry. Anxious. The demon is yelling in my head all of my real and perceived shortcomings; its telling me that I will never be, do, or have the person I want to be, the things I want to achieve, the things I want to have. That I will die a failure. The only thing that will shut it up at this point is the damn headache med. When I’m high from it and the pain stops, suddenly the world is my happy place. Reality is still there but with a veil of hope I don’t normally possess.  Coming down off that is not the most pleasant way to spend an afternoon. Realizing that those feelings of euphoria are fake, that my mortality still exists as does the madness of the world…

I don’t feel as if I can live in either world for much longer. That’s the pain talking. I’ve tried essential oils – rubbing peppermint oil on my temples doesn’t do anything but warm my skin and surround me with the fleeting scent of peppermint. I like it, but it doesn’t stop the pain. Nor does it stop the other conditions my pain breeds. I’ve got to go take the med. The computer screen is making the pain worse.

Might I suggest you turn to the Sunday comics in the newspaper? I know I could use the pick me up.