Living with a devil...

They can be people. They can be work. They can be lack of sleep. They can be hunger. They can be anger. In my case, they also include extreme happiness, extreme sadness, walking too far, standing in the heat, waiting for the bus, looking at tomatoes, wearing uncomfortable dresses, gawking stupidly in a party, shopping in the city and reading my book in a car that does not even move. My headaches are the class migraines that you read about in Medical chillers. They are the extreme health concern that has influenced several scientists in parts and portions of the world to spend their lives finding a cure for. I read about migraine miracles in all those R Digests I came across – Homeopathy, spiritual beings invading the mind and shooing the migraine away… even came across a patient who kept a log of each and every migraine attack until she finally pinpointed the “triggers” and stayed away from them… only to discover new triggers. And then I think of myself. Some fine day, with dawn, it comes crashing down on me. Blocking my enthusiasm for life, my excitement, my appetite for a double cheese sandwich… and holding me back against the simple pleasures of the world - cornering me into an isolated and hidden chamber with nothing more than a groan to tell my presence by. Friends and family have not strayed in offering their meaningful explanations for this torture. “You think way too much!” Does talking too much really always add up to that? I would be glad if it did. Nevertheless, I think that’s much a positive remark than “You’re losing it… and its showing.” A lot of people are truly under the impression that the pinnacles of life [that I will eventually brag about on this blog] have clearly affected my sanity. But both ways, it means trouble. Trouble for the head I carry on my shoulders. Do I need a doctor? No. The doctors said they wouldn’t need me. Not with my self-diagnosis interrupting their’s every other minute. I know more about myself than they would at any point in time. That being said, I have often been diagnosed with “Migraines” and given the incidental aspirin to help the pain. How original I know. The only discovery I make when I visit these clinics is an abnormal bank statement I could swear was not mine had it not been for the name on it. Then why or rather how do I survive? It has a lot to do with saying, “I’m like that.” The whole thing about headaches is that they come without warning, they stay and cause trouble, they leave their victim so vulnerable, and they leave without being told when to – Ah, “I’m like that.” May be in the years that have passed me by, in the couple of decades I have matured into whoever I have become, I have actually come to accept if not fall in love with this tormenting condition that has tested every nerve, every vein and every string of mental vigor in me. Temper, Hunger, Sleep-deprivation – Reading, Crying, Anger – Stress, Chocolate, Cheese – Come to think of it, if I ever thought of curing my migraine and made a log of triggers, I wouldn’t even be alive. Look at the bright side they say… Mine is less dark, but less dark it is.