Title: I didn't want her to see this... not this soon.
Post by Jerry Smith on Nov 2nd, 2009 at 8:52pm
Never thought I would ever be reduced to complaining about pain. I'd always thought I was strong enough to maintain my privacy dealing with CH's. Yet here I am, cap in hand-- feeling solace in realizing that I'm not the only person in the world that God decided to take a big dump on (I don''t really feel that way-- until my cycles start).
Here's the kicker-- some of you guys have this chronically, every single day, while mine only happen twice a year. I wouldn't be able to take it every day. I'm not that strong. I'm not-- I know I'd take the easy way out if I never had a vacation from them.
My new cycle started two weeks and one day ago, at a brunch with my girlfriend after church. I had a glass of wine, and knew twenty minutes later that I was a walking dead man. The shadow popped up, and that evening, I was in my familiar position, laying down in the living room, left temple on the tile, my foot quickly rocking my body back and forth. Tears coming out, nose stopped up, too much pain to think. I woke up later that night in the same position and started crying because I knew that it was the first of a brand new litter.
This past Saturday night and all day Sunday was the worst-- five Ch attacks in 36 hours. A grand total of three hours of sleep. Today, nothing so far. But the night is still young, and it's back there in the darkness, waiting for me to let my guard down.
I started going out with a young lady recently. I mentioned them to her offhandedly a few weeks before the new cycle started. I think she's taking it seriously after I bailed on her from church yesterday morning. I thought I handled myself pretty well while making as graceful an exit as I could, but she told me via an email this morning that I looked and sounded like a different man as I told her I was leaving. She's right to an extent: I was different, but when the attacks hit, I'm certainly not a man, I'm reduced to a petulant, whimpering, simpering, child.
I didn't want her to see this... not this soon. I didn't want her to be part of this world. It's not enough that I have to go through this stuff by myself, oh no! Fate dictated to me that if I want to have a special young lady in my life, that she also has to bear a certain amount of the burden. But I suppose that's par for the course, isn't it? I mean, this stuff has no sense of fair play or good form. It's going to take a big, steaming dump not just on me (and you guys too), but on the people closest to us also.
My cycles hit me in late June and early October-- no fail since 1986. This year, I had zero attacks in the summer. But my autumnal attack, while not more severe than in previous years are all over the place time wise. I used to be able to set my clock by the attacks, and after the first week, knew precisely when my two a days would hit. This time, I'm getting, 1, 2, even 3 attacks per day with no rhyme or reason, no set times, and it's scaring the living daylights out of me. I can't have these things hitting me while I'm at work... I just can't.
Anyways, here I am-- typing out my fears to a bunch of people I don't know and probably never will because you guys are the only ones who know that these aren't headaches-- it's a curse.
I'd love to be able to say, "but at least there's one solace in all of this..." but there's not. There's no solace to be found in this and we all know it. There's simply the pain, or dread of the pain. A Shakespearean tragedy write small every single day for the next four or five weeks.
I think I'll read some of your posts til I either go to sleep or the next one hits. I'm sorry you have to go through this too-- it's not anything I'd want anyone else in the world to have.
|
or 
END PRINTPAGE