What I’m gradually coming to grasp is what it means that I have a migraine brain. In a sense I can feel it coming on in the form of warping of my personality. For the last few days I’ve been beset by obsessive thinking, a tingling feeling along the back of my head, and wide swings in mood. It’s sort of like PMS, writ large.
Much of this obsessive thinking took the form of a powerful crush on the geothermal man. He was here again on Wednesday with another guy, trying to figure out our insane snarl of duct work. I was suddenly struck by his remarkable tallness, darkness, and handsomeness. School girl fantasies set in, and took hold for not one but two solid days. His inky dark eyes! The way he explains the cold air return problem!
It’s a bodice ripper that just writes itself: the lonely housewife who wants more energy efficient heating and cooling… the studly geothermal man who can provide it….
I chuckle about it now, but yesterday it seemed pretty plausible.
This morning I woke up with one ear ringing so loudly I couldn’t believe it was actually inside my head. (The test: close the ear and if it’s still just as loud, then you know.) Much too soon after I woke up, Elias jumped on me and carelessly shoved a plastic thing up my nose. (It was a rip cord type thing for a small space ship, but I don’t know the technical term for it.) I scolded him mildly for this, but a scant two minutes later he waved it in my face again and nearly poked me in the eye. At that point I lost it, yelled at him fiercely, and tossed the thing across off the bed. He screamed, which only made me feel more churlish. He wasn’t trying to be bad; he was just oblivious, and my yelling hurt and startled him.
At that point I noticed that everything was too loud and too bright and basically it was going to be rough day. Everything and everyone in the house was driving me crazy. I wanted and needed to go for a walk, out in the woods, with fresh air. Riding the stationary bike in a loud chaotic gym wouldn’t do it. But the problem was that I am scared to take a walk by myself. I could fall so easily, and then I’d be alone out there. This problem made me feel trapped and defeated.
I tried to explain it to Ben and started crying uncontrollably, something I really don’t do often! Ben reassured me that I can and should take a walk, and that I will not fall. I pulled on my horrible support stockings, dried my tears, put a phone in my pocket, and set out.
I drove to a nearby nature preserve. The rain had let up and it was surprisingly warm out, but the path was both wet and icy. I walked as far as a creek and while standing there and watching it rage like Niagara Falls, I realized that I was really going to get slammed with migraine. The movement of the water was intolerable to me, and the noise. I walked slowly back to the car, feeling weak, at risk of falling, and demoralized: my sanity saver didn’t work. I came home sure that a major migraine was about to hit.
I have a series of vitamins that I take at moments like these– magnesium and b6 mostly. I took as much as I had on hand (not enough) and went to bed. The kids jumped on me, and then Ben very kindly took them away. Isaac had swimming class anyway, and brought Elias along to watch. I lay there extremely grateful for the quiet, but wishing the trees outside the windows would stop swaying. The humming of the air bothered me. Little sparkles of pain moved around my head. Finally I fell asleep, and dreamed of falling down in a crowded room.
When I woke up I felt better though, and hungry. After a while the kids came to jump on me again, and I felt good enough to get up and make myself something to eat. I’m okay now, albeit drained. It’s pouring rain and the low areas are flooding. The creek is powerful enough to carry away large tree limbs, and more and more rain is on the way. The thaw has revealed all sorts of unattractive things around the yard. We have two gutters that have been pulled half off by ice, which gives the house a derelict appearance.
It’s just a hideous time of year, March. Everything is cold, gray, and sodden. It can’t be long now, though, before some hopeful little crocus pops up beside the terrace. The trees are already starting to look as if a red mist has settled over them. It’s almost impossible to see, but it has to mean there are buds.
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