Pain Stole Another Day From Me

Pain Stole Another Day From Me

When I went to bed last night, the future looked bright — mine for the taking, the world is my oyster, yadda, yadda, yadda.

The plan was to get up, eat a healthy breakfast, work out, then get right down to building my empire. I had it all mapped out: social media marketing (but not too much!), the writing of a couple blog posts, and then — *drum roll * — the plotting out of my first novel! It’s all in my head. Just gotta get it down on paper.

Yep, I went to bed feeling good, knowing today would be fruitful. Another day to work at world — at least, literary — domination.

. . .

When my alarm went off at 6:45, it felt as though the weight of the world was upon me.

And it was resting solidly behind my right eye.

A migraine. Again.

My room was pitch black, the result of gloomy, soggy, overcast upstate New York weather. Rather than bounding out of bed, ready to conquer the world, I shut the alarm off and turned over, my head bundled under the covers and a sleep mask over my eyes.

At 7:35, I peeled myself off the sheets and thunked my heavy feet onto the floor, plodding down the hall to wake up my kid. As he brushed his teeth, I caught a glimpse of my bed-headed self in the mirror. My hair looked as though I’d tried to style it in the dryer, and my face carried wrinkles I swear weren’t there 12 hours before.

In the meantime, my son’s electric toothbrush sounded like a buzz-saw in my ears, and my head screamed at me for getting out of bed.

. . .

It’s now 10:30 a.m. and the house is quiet. My husband took my son to school hours ago. I have done no social media marketing, and this will most likely be the only thing I write all day.

I’m on my third or fourth cup of caffeinated tea and don’t envision working out anytime soon.

I spent some time this morning reading Jeff Goins’ You Are a Writer (So Start Acting Like One), with huge swaths of the book highlighted in yellow marker. That feels like decent progress in my current state.

My migraine has mostly subsided thanks to the wonders of pharmaceuticals, but my meds tend to attack the pain with the force of a Mack Truck, leaving the rest of my body feeling sore and achy. I’m so tired I feel lightheaded, and between the fatigue and the lack of sunshine, I think I could easily spend the entire day in slumber.

. . .

Sadly, there is no inspiring ending to this post. No “but then she shrugged it off, got to work, and had her first critically-acclaimed novel written in under a week!” Not today.

Maybe it’ll happen tomorrow. Maybe by the time I go to bed tonight I’ll feel optimistic again. Ready to take on the world and all that.

Right now, I’m just tired. And frustrated. Another day defeated by migraine. More hours lost. Time I could have spent doing something productive has been squandered on meaningless tasks.

I want the energy from last night back. I want that optimism and positivity and self-confidence.

I want to conquer the world.

It’ll still happen. Just not today.

A version of this post first appeared in The Ascent

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