An Update & More Migrainous Musings

I have been struggling with a rough stretch of status migrainosus. I sometimes get flashes of clarity or expression, when I'm in the midst of deep distress... sometimes I'm able to capture the words, scribbling them down wherever I can. Last year, I shared some Migrainous Musings. I'm here, again, yet there's little comfort in the familiarity of this place. The timelessness and dominance of pain described in Pain has an Element of Blank continues to resonate and ring true to my own experience.

I continue to share, and hope you'll excuse the raw, unedited migrainous musings / ramblings of a brain in pain.

There's an emptiness inside me that knows no bounds.
Sometimes it tries to swallow me up.
Is it the pain? The anxiety? The depression?
Or is this emptiness me?

To know me truly,
See the darkness inside me,
Then don't turn and run.

The darkness surrounds.
Is it here to stay this time?
Please don't consume me.

I do not fear the darkness in others. I generally don't fear it in myself. But, there are times that it becomes overwhelming, and I can't see the light.

I feel like I'm disappearing. Shattering into tiny pieces and blowing away in the wind. Like I'm a fragile shell, being crushed by the weight of darkness. Do I still exist? What is left of me, when the pain overflows?

I'm not ok. I know I've been in this place before, and somehow come out the other side. But, that doesn't compute right now. This feels like my forever. Like I'm trapped.

Update 1 (March 3):

I've spent most of the last week in the hospital getting infusions to try to break this status migraine.

Six days. Three IVs. Loads of meds. My mind and body are still in turmoil, and I don't know how long it'll take to feel like me again. I've been here before. I know that I get out. But, I don't know how. It feels too hard. I feel too weak.

Update 2 (March 4):

Today is filled with more pain than I feel I can bear. I'm not sure how I can survive it. I've treated hard. I'm trying to give myself rest. Nothing feels enough. I know I'll get through it... somehow... because I always do. Every time. Yet, even that gives me no solace in this moment.

Update 3 (March 5):

I woke today feeling more me than I have in a long time. Pain levels are lower. My mind and body are so weary and I can feel the weight of the battles fought. But right now, in this moment, I'm praising God for His provision and the respite.

"At the end of the day, we can endure much more than we think we can." - Frida Kahlo

Migrainous Musings

I have been struggling with a rough stretch of status migrainosus. When I'm thinking a little more clearly, I know that it will end... but when the pain levels are unbearable and the insomnia from treatment is added to the mix, night can bring out all kinds of demons (anxiety, depression, PTSD). In Pain has an Element of Blank, I wrote about the timelessness and dominance of pain, so this is something I've been facing and working on throughout the last 10 years.

This is part of my journey. Please excuse the raw, unfinished, unedited migrainous night musings / ramblings of a brain in pain; but I thought they might be worth sharing.

All alone, in the dark, is where the true torture happens. The incessant pain is magnified by the lies that it tells. When will it end feels like a question not worth asking. The pain decides without your consent.

Mind racing. Heart thumping, Head pounding, Body screaming.

The light of hope seems so soft and dim, but it's what holds us together when the night seems to never end.

Day in and day out, the pain becomes an unwelcome but constant companion. Sometimes it's there lurking in the shadows, sometimes it walks right along side of us, and sometimes it completely overtakes us.

Regardless of how wonderful a support network we have, there are moments that simply have to be faced alone. In the dead of night, when everyone is sleeping, the pain, anxiety, and isolation make their move.

Photo by Travis Bozeman on Unsplash

I've written several Haikus (and Tankas) previously in my journey, here and here. Sometimes it helps to try to focus my mind on thinking or writing in a specific way.

Darkness breeds darkness.
Incessant pain tells us lies.

We must seek the light.

We may feel alone,

But we never truly are.

Reach out and have faith.

Stark desert. Dark night.

Looking for a small reprieve

From the pain and fight.

“Be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you.” - Ovid

Health Haiku & Tanka

Haiku is a “miniature Japanese poem consisting of 17 syllables – 5 syllables in first line, 7 in second, and 5 in the last. No rhyme or meter scheme is employed when writing haiku. The aim of the haiku is to create something greater than the sum of the parts.” I wrote a haiku during last year's challenge - HAWMC Prompt 5: Haiku & Tanka. It was a bit more difficult to write this year, but here's what I wrote:

Living life with pain
and growing uncertainty
means my life has changed.

     * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Migraine agony,
Why do you do this to me?
Please leave me alone.

And, I'm feeling a little ambitious today, so I'm going to include a tanka (which I also did in last year's challenge - HAWMC Prompt 5: Haiku & Tanka). Tanka is a type of Japanese poetry that "consists of five units usually with the following pattern or onji: 5-7-5-7-7."

Horrible migraine
Why do you always show up
To ruin my day?
You interrupt my whole life
And leave me wondering why.

This post was written as part of the Health Activist Writer's Awareness Challenge (HAWMC).

HAWMC Prompt 5: Haiku & Tanka

I'm participating in WEGO Health's Health Activist Writer's Month Challenge (HAWMC) in April.

Today's challenge is to write a haiku for my condition (migraine). Haiku is "a form of Japanese poetry, consisting of 17 moras, in three phases of 5, 7, and 5 moras respectively." No rhyme or meter scheme is employed. Rather, the aim is to create something greater than the sum of the parts. Haiku were traditionally poems written about nature, and included a "season reference."

Migraine agony
brings uncertainty and fear,
throbbing pain and tears.

Ambitious Activist Challenge Add-on: Make your Haiku into a Tanka. Tanka is a type of Japanese poetry that "consists of five units (often treated as separate lines when Romanized or translated) usually with the following pattern or onji: 5-7-5-7-7... Tanka is a much older form of Japanese poetry than haiku."

Chronic migraines are
hard on mind, body, and soul.
Head pain, nausea,
Sleepless nights, daytime fatigue,
shattered dreams... my life has changed.