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Audiobook
First published December 16, 2021
I feel guilty about even thinking about attending to myself. You power through, not because you aren't in pain, but because it's the only option. Because you'll be met with a complete lack of understanding if you don't.
I'm a writer. Words are what I do, and words often fail me when talking about what migraine--to me--feels like, what it is. "English, which can express the thoughts of Hamlet and the tragedy of Lear, has no words for the shiver and the headache," wrote Virginia Woolf in 1926 in her migraine-inspired essay 'On Being Ill'. "The merest schoolgirl, when she falls in love, has Shakespeare or Keats to speak her mind for her. But let a sufferer try to describe a pain in his head to a doctor, and language at once runs dry. There is nothing ready-made for him. He is forced to coin words himself." At least when words fail me, I'm in good company.