Migraine

Jagged pain pounds in the base of my skull. Migraine. Such a simple word, so casual, so often heard that it barely invokes any emotion to those who do not suffer with it. Though migraines aren’t fatal that do cause suffering. It gets hard to think and hard to write when it feels as though a screw was slowly burrowing into my skull. Worming its way deeper into my head until it hits my brain.

            Headaches can be a nuisance but migraines can ruin your day. Though who deal with severe or frequent migraines know this first hand.

            I awaken feeling hung over, but I did not drink the night before. My head has a thumping pain, like a kick drum beating in my ear. The sharp pain of a knife enters my skull followed by the dull and constant pain similar to the moments after being struck on the head. I stand up on uneasy feet and fumble for the lights. I turn the light on, sharp daggers of light enter my eye and pierce through into my brain. I react quickly and shut the light off.

            After taking a moment to recover I try to move forward in the dark. My eyes start to adjust to the lack of light but my head spins and I feel dizzy and nauseous. Pain burns into the back of my head and it becomes hard to see. I feel as if I were dying, but I know I am not. I have been to the doctor so many times because of my pain. I have had so many tests done and they all point to one thing, migraines.

            I start the coffee machine and run to the bathroom. The pain has made me so dizzy it is unbearable. I vomit into the toilet. My head still hurts but I am less nauseous now. After brushing my teeth I take my pills. Pills for nausea, pills for migraine pain even muscle relaxers. I take the first two and put the third one back. I cannot afford to drug myself this early in the day.

            After my pills and a cup of coffee my migraine starts to recede. It doesn’t go away, it just becomes more tolerable. I spend my day with a dull pain in the base of my skull. I am functional but my mood doesn’t recover on days like these.

            For those who suffer know this morning routine all too well. Migraines might show up in the middle of the day or even at night, but it is always the same symptoms.

            So for now I rest. I take my pills and rest. Try to take my mind of the pain and hope tomorrow is better.

Joseph Stephens and the Dream Sheep

            Little fluffy white sheep bounce through the endless night sky. These small creatures are beings from another world, sent to earth by the sandman to help people sleep and dream.

            Only a foot tall and more fluffy wool than a body, with small round eyes, little stubby legs and round purple horns. These little critters jump over houses as magical sleeping dust falls over a family. For those with trouble sleeping the dream sheep sneak into the house through windows that they pry open with an adorable purple crowbar and the sheep jump over the person until they fall asleep. This is why people say counting sheep helps you go to sleep.

            Off you go to a magical world were anything is possible. While your brain files away all of the new information you gathered from the day you get to experience imaginary worlds with untold wonders and the scariest pits of your own imagination.

            Every night so many people get to drift off into a restful slumber, a sleep that rejuvenates the body and the soul. These people get to dream of wonderful places, floating cloud cities surrounded by sparkling stars too beautiful for words. They get to superheroes and stand up to the troubles of their day.

Some do not dream and that is all right too. resting your weary head down on a soft pillow, closing your eyes and letting hours go by in a blink of an eye. Hours pass and it is time to get back to your life. The morning awaits and you face the challenges of the day with restored vigor.

            This is the case for many people. Unfortunately for Joseph Stephens his dream sheep are heroin addicts. So he spends his nights awake, his mornings asleep and his afternoons feeling groggy and slow.

            So have a good night boys and girls and remember, if you can’t sleep, maybe your dream sheep are addicted to illegal drugs.

Maze Mind

            My mind winds like a maze, twisting and going off in every direction. Solutions can be found but only through the most complicated thought process. Some never make it past the front door, others die halfway through. I sometimes get stuck in my own maze, losing track of time and forgetting why I even came there in the first place.

            The maze is filled with things. Fantasy creatures, trees, rain, autumn days and snowy nights by the fireplace. Cats wander through freely, never getting lost and always comfortable wherever they end up. Dead ends are a regular occurrence, often with walls made from distractions, bright lights, colors, catchy music, doubt and painkillers.

            The twisting halls could be considered beautiful and complex but I find them tiring and most find them annoying. Point A does not always lead to point B even though I wish it could.

            Stephen sits and talks to a friend. “So I brought my cat to the vet, she has bad teeth, anyway, so I got her all checked out and her teeth cleared, the vet was like 800 dollars for the whole operation. (That’s too much detail). So yeah I was pretty nervous about paying that much (Stop talking so much, get to the point. They stopped listening) oh! So anyway I spent all my money on the Vet, my cat is doing fine by the way, so do you think I could borrow a few dollars for gas?”….

Conversations spiral out of control and the more I talk the more nervous I get. I get lost in my own mind, the maze gets bigger and the walls grow higher. (Didn’t I come through this way already? Did I just repeat myself for the third time?). Point of the story, the point of the conversation. What is the point of my thought? Was there a point? Is my brain just giving me words to fill the empty space in between events?

            When a slow song about missing someone comes on the radio and I immediately blurt out “Oh this reminds me of a video game” people look at me funny. If I led them through the path that started from sad song to video game it would make sense but most don’t have the energy for it and those that try tend to get lost. Others use their own guidelines, their brain uses its own logic to navigate my Maze. But I doubt their mind is built like mine, so often they give up. When I do finally find a way through it seems the journey wasn’t even worth the trouble. One person knows how this one song, reminds me of this one video game. But they don’t care and I wasted energy.

            A dead end of doubt is added to my maze.

The Sky is a Hellish red

            The sky is a hellish red, the trees burn with the smoldering flames. I stare into the mouth of evil and pick up my sword. This fight has been a long time coming but none of us expected this.

 I look to my right and then to my left. Arlyn and Baroth try their best to keep on their feet. Baroth is the strongest man I have ever seen, his axe was forged from the bones of a thousand monsters and the metal for his chain mail was dug from the core of the planet during one of his many adventures. He is a pillar of strength but now he waivers. When the strongest man among us cannot endure what hope do the rest of us have?

            Arlyn, a beautiful flower and a fierce warrior all in one. At the darkest times, it was her smile and determination that kept me going. Woe be the enemy that survives a shot from her arrow, because a much more painful death awaits all of those who get close enough to feel the sting of her blade. That is how I would like to remember her, if I survive this.

            The giant beast of ancient times rose from the ground, its sheer size split the earth and its power ignited the trees. An army of trained men and women fell to its awesome and terrible might. Now I stand on unsteady ground and fight to survive with the only friends I have known.

            Arlyn fires a volley of arrows at the giant swaying eyes of the demon, blood dripped from her arms and torso. It was hard seeing her that way. My brain keeps telling me to protect her and the damage she has been dealt is a failure on my part. The truth is, she is probably more qualified to protect me.

           

            The arrows soar through the air and whiz through the flaming trees. Scorching arrows strike the eyes of the beast. The creature roars and Baroth charges forward toward the gaping mouth of the creature. The mouth that has already consumed so many souls before. Still he continues onward, no sign of fear to be seen. Sheer determination moves him as the ground quakes under his feet.

            Were are a mere three warriors and still my companions fight on. They seem un-phased by the impossible odds of survival. They fight because they have no other choice. Arlyn ran out of arrows so she begins leaping through the burning forest as she draws her daggers. I yell for her to stop, but my words are lost in the chaos and noise.

            The beast howls in pain as Baroth strikes out with all of his might. The creature fights back with the fury of a demigod and flames begin to rain down from the sky. The giant claws of the beast slash Baroth. He staggers and falls. Tears in my eyes, I charge forward. I can die like a coward or meet my end fighting with my brethren.

            I rush forward and draw my sword. Ice and lighting accumulate in my left hand as I hold my sword in my right hand. I put all of my energy into this. I will not give up. The world has not beaten us. It will not beat us. Not this day not ever!