September 2009
17 posts
The Migraine Diary has stopped updating live, but you can still read from the start.
Do gmail me your thoughts @ Theongoingrealityshow.
And thank you for reading.
I found Debbie’s personal file. I’m sure it was against policy to look at it but no one else was going to tell me anything. The file was huge and bloated, so wide I could barely fit my hand around it. It was packed with mental health reports detailing the break down of her marriage after she found out that her husband was a paedophile who’d been assaulting a neighbour’s...
No attacks.
No attacks.
No attacks. Ate stuffed mushrooms and pasta. Drank a cup of hot chocolate.
No attacks. I ate a Twix, crackers with soft cheese and a pizza from The Purple Crab.
The silences at work have stopped. I didn’t notice until today but they’ve stopped.
One attack, medium in intensity at around four O’clock. I ate a jacket potato, spaghetti bolognase, and an apple.
No attacks. I ate cheese and onion crisps, soup and some left over lasagne. I drank a glass of red wine.
I was late for work this morning, I had my doctor’s appointment, he asked if I’d seen any pattern in this diary and I had to tell him no, I could see nothing. No food, no activity, not exercise or daylight or happiness or air pollution or temperature. He frowned and admitted that sometimes it was practically impossible to find the causes behind these things. he prescribed me some...
Thirteen attacks yesterday. A plethora of attacks. The most I think I have ever experienced. Each one like an assault from a plank of wood, a dull crack every time. Where’s the pattern? I spend all my time looking inward. Where’s the pattern? Where’s the pattern? What is it I’m doing? Is it my mood? Is it the time of day? Is it the location of Pluto? What’s the...
Three attacks today, each one slightly shorter than the other, each one fading away a little further, as I came a little closer to the surface. There’s still flurries of pointed silences at work, but no one tells me anything. Debbie is the only one who talks to me, and she says nothing, she says words but there isn’t one of them that I’m interested in hearing. She talks about her...
The weekend was full of attacks, I lost track of how many or how long or what I ate or what I did. I slightly overdosed on painkillers, but the relief they brought was like white squares on an infinite, mazelike and ancient checker board floor. I didn’t leave the house, I didn’t leave my bed, I began to have vast fever dreams of dusty and cavernous hallways, intricately recursive ship...
Eight attacks today. The pain become so vivid I had to go home. Each attack was only a minute long, and they all struck after lunch. I had a cereal bar, a pack of raisins and a cheese sandwich for lunch. What’s so strange about that? I’ve eaten cheese sandwiches and raisins and cereal bars nearly all my life. I tried to explain it to my boss.
“It’s not always like...
No attacks today, but I told Dominic that I thought they might be coming back.
“That’s bad,” he said. “How long had you been clear of them?”
“I can’t remember, it must be in my diary somewhere.”
“Has the diary helped?”
“What?
“Have you found anything that could be setting them off?”
“Oh. No. Not really. But I...
Four attacks today. One of them was at home, but the other three were at work. Only one of them lasted over ten seconds. I had to go to the bathroom for that and sit there with my head in my cold hands, waiting. I don’t think anyone noticed because when I came back, Debbie started talking to me about her daughter.
“She’s looking for work at the moment, but it’s hard...
Two attacks today. I thought the first one was just a regular headache until it fully hit me. It lasted six minutes, I’d forgotten how much it hurt. How do you remember pain? It leaves no scars and it doesn’t photograph well. Sometimes I imagine it must be doing something to me. So acute and insistent, it must make some difference to my body. I don’t remember what I ate before...
I went to The Purple Crab and had pizza and saw friends. I had mushrooms and olives on the pizza, but I always have mushrooms and olives on my pizza. I spent a long time talking to Hackett.
“There’s two types of people,” he said. “There are people who are good at talking about themselves and people who are good at listening to people talk about themselves. But only the...
August 2009
5 posts
I drank two glasses of cranberry juice and ate three slices of toast instead of bran flakes this morning. Some days I can’t believe people eat the same thing for breakfast every day. What is it about the morning that gives us all this sense of routine? I wish I knew. If you tried to feed me bran flakes every day for five years I’d probably scream. But that’s what I’ve done...
The weekend! A week has passed but everything remains the same as ever. No attacks, no strange food, no train delays, no hurricanes, floods, snow storms or meteor showers.
There’s some kind of drama in the office, but no one knows me well enough to know how to tell me about it. All I know is that all day everyone speaks in low whispers and if someone comes into the room they stop talking....
Debbie passed by my desk and started telling me how she was getting her front drive done.
“We had to chose between redoing the bathroom and doing the drive, but we settled on the drive.”
“Ah,” I said.
“We could only fit one car on the drive at a time, and we’re a three car house these days. There’s me, my husband and now my daughter because she drives...
No attacks today or Tuesday. I don’t remember eating anything strange. When I first started keeping this diary I would note down what I ate as soon as I ate it. I used to make scores of notes. I would note down what I ate and how much, and if I had eaten it for the first time I would write down the ingredients. Most people who saw me thought I was on a diet. No diet, (I told them) I’m...
No attacks today. In fact no attacks since I started keeping this diary. Perhaps it’s like one of those rocks that people claim are tiger repellent. If anyone doesn’t believe the rocks work, they’re asked: “Do you see any tigers here?” I see no tigers, and today I ate nothing out of the ordinary. I started a new job, in an office with women called Debbie and Tracey...