There's back pain, of course, and RSI in wrists and shoulders and elbows, but those aside, my guess is that most writers suffer from headaches. I used to get migraines. Then I started getting tension headaches. Now I get a ghastly amalgam of both. Along with the pain and nausea, I cry, feel suffocating unfocused guilt, and am unable to make decisions. The headaches wake me up in the early hours of the morning and last from 8 to 12 to 24 hours. I'm not going to talk about the ones that last longer than that.
I take co-codamol and rizatripin, lie in a dark room and, if I can get my act together, listen to Yo-Yo Ma playing Bach. I'm sure there are other things I could/should do, but I can never remember what they are. If my children are about, they bring me cups of tea and whisper around the door from time to time, "Are you dead?" Even with such finely-tuned nursing, having a killer headache can make you feel very alone.
Well, you're not. And here's a chance to get it out of that darkened room and into the open. Tell me about your headaches, and what you do about them. Your pain is my pain. Well, actually, no, you can keep your pain, but I promise you a sympathetic hearing. And pooling resources on how to better weather the storms inside our skulls just might help.
I'm listening.
Joan Lennon's website.
Joan Lennon's blog.
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