The 9

I never use 10 on the pain scale. I save it. But I have 9 migraines. Where I make it from the bed to the couch. Where I cannot move. Cannot

I hit the 9. Like a god damned wall of pain. Like a bubble between me and reality. I am blogging right now because I have to focus on something while the triptan and painkiller kick in. I need distraction. I am typing slowly. Thinking through molasses. All that I am is this horrific, blinding, nauseating pain.

Here is the thing. There is a line. Tolerable. Intolerable. Functional. Unfunctional. The line is somewhere in the 8 zone. 9 is an abyss. It is frantic. It is what the hell do I do with this pain. How can I stop it? What can I take? Can I sleep… if I can sleep, I won’t feel it. But no way in hell I can sleep.

Triptan. Zofran. Gravol. Migraine balm. Something. Anything. Just lower the pain a little bit. Just a little bit. I need bearable.

My head shifting slightly is agony. My eyes feel this pressure and throb like I need to gorge them out for relief. The pain is sharp, intense and throbbing.  My neck aches in sympathy.

I’m dizzy. I’m nauseated. My ears are ringing loudly. My scalp literally hurts, the skin itself hurts. I have the vertigo that causes disequilibrium… like I am moving but I am not.

I feel an edge of desperation, but no negative thought spirals because that requires thought. And really all my thoughts are just on pain and pain relief and how long do I have to weight this out. I made a post on Facebook about how much pain I am in. No idea why. I just feel frantic with it. No one can help. But sometimes I hope for conversation. Something to just take my mind off the pain. Not that conversation is my strong point when in the pain bubble.

I feel the chest constriction from the triptan but no loosening on the pain.

I need to stop now. I can’t focus. It hurts too much to be right now.

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