So I suffer with migraines, and that means, on at least 2 days out of every week, I wake up with pain in my left ear and eye, dizziness, nausea, cold sweats and tremors in my right arm. It’s not as painful as it used to be; thanks to a combination of beta-blockers that I take every day, triptan medication that I take at the first whiff of an attack, and half-yearly Botox injections in my forehead and around my head, they’re manageable.
Yes folks, THIS is manageable.
My work is fantastic, though. I started with them in April and my boss is really understanding about my condition, so when I had to call in AGAIN today and tell him that I have to take the day off to try to sleep it off in a dark and silent room, he understood. At least I manage projects, which means I can (mostly) arrange my work around the somewhat predictable little buggers (the migraines, not my colleagues).
So, there’s me, all day in bed, feeling like I’m falling from a log the whole time, wondering if I’m going to throw up the two crackers I managed to eat this morning with a glass of water to take my meds with, trying not to feel guilty that it’s ANOTHER day lost and wasted (because the guilt causes stress, which in turns creates more migraines and then we’re into this whole cycle that you do NOT want a piece of!)
And, at about 4 o’clock this afternoon, I start to feel better. Thank goodness it wasn’t a bad one this time. Sometimes they can last for DAYS. Don’t need that right before Christmas!
I’m up now, though I still have to take it slow. I only have a few lamps on downstairs and my laptop screen brightness is as low as it can be.
Though, excellent news, I DID wake up with the urge to write my book, so, as soon as this little update is complete, that’s what I’ll be doing. I’m working on Chapter Six at the moment, and figured out how to get past the difficult, emotional rut I was in from the previous chapter.
Now, you guys don’t know this, but I’ve been writing my book, Hybrid, for like, ever. And I mean, ever. It’s gone through so many incarnations, it bears no resemblance to the original story. I started writing it when I was 14, and I’m now 27. There you go. Forever.
BUT, it’s finally gained some traction this last year, and 2017 is going to be the year that I finish it. I’ve had the first couple of chapters finished and unchanged since early 2016, maybe even 2015, and I even have some later chapters and extracts finished. It’s always been this transition period, where my two characters leave Leicester and travel to London to start their new lives, that I’ve struggled with.
And then, the other week, the wife and I had a brainwave.
Why do I have to cover it in specific detail? A tragedy occurs at the beginning of the book, the catalyst for the story, and they’re still trying to recover from this when they have to leave. But people don’t just stop. Life goes on. And sometimes, and I’ve felt this, it goes on without you, and you come back to yourself a few weeks later and find that things have subtly changed and then you have to play catch up. Which is a whole feeling unto itself, separate from the grief of loss anyway.
So that’s what I’m trying now. I’m going to skip ahead and refer back to the period of readjustment, but get the story moving again. After all, it’s fiction, and fiction is an imitation of life but with more drama.
Wish me luck!