Migraines

Entry 1, July 15th

I swear, I SWEAR there is something in me. I feel it moving but they don’t believe me. Mom said that it's just bad migraines. Dad said I’m over reacting. The doctors said that they couldn’t find anything in the scans. But I feel it. I feel it digging and scratching and biting and squirming. Like it’s a dog trying to get comfortable in bed. Like it’s a child tearing into their gifts on Christmas morning. Sometimes it stops. Like it tired itself out and needs a break. Or when it knows someone is watching. That’s why they couldn’t find anything in the scans. It knew they were looking for it. I’m scheduled for another MRI tomorrow. They won’t find anything. I know they won’t.

Entry 2, July 16th

They wouldn’t stop telling me to stop moving. They said I kept messing up the scans by moving non stop and that they needed a clear picture of my brain. But I wasn’t moving. Despite the pain I didn’t move an inch. It doesn’t matter. It turned out blurry. I’m scheduled for another one next week. 

Entry 3, July 19th

It hurts so much I feel so fucking sick. It’s like whatever is in my head is trying to break out. Something is stabbing…no, it’s banging…no it’s digging… it’s drilling it’s expanding it’s throbbing it just won’t stop killing me

I threw up again.

Entry 4, July 20th

I’m so cold. I’m so hot. I’m shaking so hard. The bathroom floor is just a pool of my own sweat and drool. The room feels like it's spinning. My eyes don’t move in the direction I want them to. Each sound, even a light bang on the wall, explodes in my eardrums. There’s nothing left to throw up. I don’t have the strength to stand back up, yet I can’t help but to flail around from the pain. 

Entry 5, July 22nd

I’ve given up on convincing people there’s something inside of me. Nobody believes me. Instead, they just look at me with these sad eyes. Like they’re grieving my death early. I want to not believe me, too. It would be less tiring that way.

Entry 6, July 24th

Another MRI yet the same results. I told them that it wasn't me moving. I told them that it’s the creature in my head that is moving. Instead of believing me, I heard them suggest to my parents that I should see a therapist. How am I supposed to see a therapist when I’m stuck in bed most days??

Entry 7, July 25th

I want to go outside. I want to play in the sun. But the light makes it hurt so much worse. Maybe the creature is attracted to sunlight. So whenever I’m in the sun it tries even harder to break out. I hope when it does, it does it in front of everyone I know so they can see just how right I was.

Entry 8, July 26th

I remembered that one time I had a migraine and stubbed my toe. The pain from my toe overode the migraine for a bit. It was the same when I woke up with a migraine and a sore throat one morning. My throat pain ended up distracting me from the head pain. It’s hard to stub your toe on purpose, though. And I don’t go outside enough to catch strep throat. I’ll have to hurt myself in a different way.

Entry 9, July 30th

I tried it. My arms are red and burning. There’s skin and blood under my fingernails. No matter how hard I scratched, the pain in my head is still too much. I feel too weak to keep going.

Entry 10, August 2nd

My parents took me to a therapist today. I told her everything. What’s the worst that could happen? Everyone already thinks I’m insane. She listened and nodded along like she understood where I was coming from. But therapists are trained to do that, aren’t they?

Entry 11, August 4th

I’m hearing things. Like in my head. It sounds like mumbling. I think it’s talking. I can’t make out what it’s saying, though. I keep closing my eyes to concentrate, but it’s like whatever the creature is saying is being said through a closed mouth. Maybe it isn’t saying anything at all, though. Maybe it's just making noises, or calling out for its family to come tear it out of me. 

Entry 12, August 5th

I heard a crack.

Entry 13, August 6th

It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts

Entry 14, August 7th

I’m tired. I’m so tired.

“That’s it? There’s nothing else in there?” The investigator said.

“No. It seems she started it to keep track of migraines but it turned into something more of a vent journal,” said his assistant.

“Our best piece of evidence and it’s just some poor girl's insane ramblings.”

“Well, maybe not. She said she was tired in her last entry. Maybe it was a suicide.”

“Doesn’t explain where she got the shotgun that killed her and where it went after she blew her brains out.”

“How do you know it was a shotgun?”

“Please. Only a shotgun to the head could make the brain disappear completely like that.”

Author's Note: I've dealt with migraines for a few years now and have been recently diagnosed with a non cancerous pituitary gland tumor. It's pretty scary having something new growing in your brain that is making you sick on a daily basis, so I thought I would write about it and share how migraines can feel for some people.