honeydunce

Squint against the light, the sound of your own voice hurting you more. The left arm goes numb and it’s frightening. You apologize over and over to whoever is with you–I’m sorry that I’m like this. I’m sorry that I’m putting you through it. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. The pain is embarrassing. The pain is the most mortifying thing you will ever experience, because it isn’t a visible type of pain. It isn’t a gaping wound, a broken limb. This is the monster that forces you into a makeshift night at 1pm, all the blinds drawn and blankets over the head. Even the pillow hurts. You put a trash can nearby because the journey to the bathroom gets too complicated. You are forced to back out of commitments, and you worry about how others perceive you–if they just assume you are some unreliable jerk. Again, embarrassed. You learn to do what you can to keep the tears from coming–crying just magnifies the pain. You let the frustration consume you–this invisible beast that eats away at your life.

I’ve been giving serious thought to a project, something to do with all the migraines/chronic pain that I’ve had to deal with over the past twenty years. It’s such a big part of my life. I will not say that pain rules it, but dealing with pain like that, consistent pain, will change the way you look at things.I have a lot to say about the matter. I know that art is a perfect medium to express it–I think a combination of words, painting, and noise would work best. I’m working on that. I happened to be very sick yesterday and part of it had to do with head pain, ye old migraine. In my head, during the worst of it, I tried to articulate how I felt exactly. Tried to imagine how one might put it into words. How do you describe the most blinding, stupid pain that kicks in the left side of the head, steals the eye completely? I went through all the metaphors. I thought about reaching for a pen and some paper, but felt too sick to do so. I think it’s important to attempt creation while in pain–I believe the migraine would have a definite influence on what is produced. Ah, but the crux–the pain is so intense that it’s hard to lift my head, let alone create something. I’ve been thinking about making use of the dictaphone or short videos for this matter. I need to get this into a medium that is accessible to other people. I think others need to understand. I think I need to be understood. Also, I need help wrapping my own head around it. Dealing with it devastates me. I get tired of dealing with it, tired of feeling devastated. So I’m going to look to expression, to art, and say: please help me. Please help me translate what I go through.