When I say I have a headache, I don't mean an annoying pain in my forehead.
When I say I have a headache, I mean I have more pain in my head than I can tolerate.
Sometimes it makes me sick to my stomach.
It makes loud footsteps sound like jackhammers. And forget about what actual jackhammers sound like.
Sometimes it makes me sensitive to light.
So I might wear sunglasses, even if it is cloudy out, because the amount of light that is there, is just too much to bear.
Sometimes it makes me tired.
Not just tired after a long day at work, but I can't keep my eyes open tired and I have to do things to force them to stay open.
Sometimes it makes me cranky and unenthusiastic.
It isn't just the pain that does it, but the fact that I can't enjoy doing things I like to do or spending time with people I like to hang out with.
Sometimes it messes with my sense of smell.
Strong smells set off my stomach. And I constantly think I am smelling cigarettes, even when there are none nearby.
Sometimes I don't understand when others say they have a headache and do things I can't do when I have one.
Headaches for me mean no desire to watch TV, read, or play on a computer/tablet/phone because it makes the pain worse. And I don't understand how others with headaches can still do those things. Why can't I?
Sometimes I have to eat.
I fight back the sick to my stomach feeling and eat, especially crunchy things to alleviate the pain. And yes, I do sometimes eat stuff that others consider disgusting.
Sometimes it is hard to communicate.
My words get mixed up. I type, but switch my letters around. It takes me awhile to say what I want to say.
I have learned my triggers (chocolate too late at night) and behaviors (staying up too late on a Friday night expecting to sleep in on Saturday morning, which never happens). But even dealing with those aren't guaranteed to prevent a headache.
When I say I have a headache, I've already taken the maximum amount of painkillers for my head and I am counting down when I can take more.
When I say I have a headache, I would like nothing more than to go back to bed and sleep with an ice pack where ever it hurts. But I can't, because I usually have something else to do.
And the best part of a headache, is the point in time when I am released from pain, I feel exhaustion from fighting the pain all day, and then I go to bed and hope I wake the next day without a repeat of that day's experience.
When I say I have a headache I'm not exaggerating. I'm not trying to get out of doing something. And I'm not looking for sympathy.
I am just letting you know I am not at 100%, and I want you to know I am trying, but it is harder than usual.
