Teresa Jay

Author's website

Air-speed velocity of an unladen Migraine Fairy?

By Teresa Jay


There is a group of people in society that I have the utmost sympathy for. My heart bleeds, and my empathy aches.

Migraine sufferers.

You poor poor fuckers.

I am not a migraine sufferer, per se. A couple of times a year, however, I will wake up squealing in the morning with the headache from hell, and will want to die, right there and then, no questions asked. Nothing makes me feel so sorry for myself as a motherfucking migraine.

Thank Christ it's only twice a year.

Today was my first round.

The Migraine Fairies, on their traditional bi-annual migration route, decided to stop past my bedroom in the wee hours of this morning and do a number on me.

They twinkled in on a moonbeam, dropped their glittery little pants, and fucked me in the skull.

Fucked me hard.

Right between my eyes.

I knew they had violated me in the night. I knew because I opened my eyes to twittering birdsong and morning sun, and then screamed like a slaughtered piglet as my retinas committed
seppuku.

My mother ran down the hall at the godawful noise and threw open the bedroom door, only to find that I had stuffed my head inside my pillowcase in an attempt to avoid the evil light.

She knew immediately what was up, and expressed the appropriate sympathy.

My father stuck his head around the door and said "Aww, come on. You're not THAT ugly!".

Bastard.

I stammered my excuses to my PA, then turned off every single electrical thing in the house. (I've found they make it worse - probably something to do with the big fuckoff metal plate in my skull, but I don't want to think about that). I switched off the phones so they couldn't ring, locked up the cats so they couldn't meow, and shot all the cockatoos in the reserve so they couldn't squawk.

I then drugged myself within an inch of my life.

(OK, I didn't shoot the birds, but by god I wanted to. So so badly).

This is so wrong. There is no place in the world for Headache Ultra-Violence. I shouldn't be sitting here at 10.50 pm wearing polaroid sunglasses to look at a computer screen.

Spamfuckers? I would almost* welcome you if you could come up with a practical solution to this shit.

So yes. As we know, I'm not the most compassionate person on earth, but for those poor souls out there who have to put up with migraine torture on a regular basis, I honestly don't know how you don't all off yourselves.

Sucks to be you.

..............

* I said 'almost'.

© 2004 Teresa Jay (see here, March 24, 2004)

top