It's so interesting hearing other migraine experiences described. Migraines are isolating, and specific to the body, yet there's commonality, too. "The fizz on your face..." I totally get this, almost an effervescence under the skin.
Thanks for reading and sharing your own experience too. I don't usually like sharing links like that to my posts on other writers' posts but i felt it was relevant.
Thanks! Yes an unfortunate thing to be able to describe but I remember the process of writing that having some value in distracting from it all. Thanks for the comment!
I hear that. But, maybe creativity really has the power to transform pain into beauty. More songs repeatedly played on Spotify are melancholy, happy sad, I hear from Susan Cain's 'Bittersweet' work.
Words to hear ourselves first, witness it, and then who knows. We heal ourselves first, and then, perhaps if we're really lucky, others too. The words are breadcrumbs to the alchemy. Presenting them to the world is a monumental exercise in personal vulnerability. And the magic starts there...
It's so interesting hearing other migraine experiences described. Migraines are isolating, and specific to the body, yet there's commonality, too. "The fizz on your face..." I totally get this, almost an effervescence under the skin.
Thanks for sharing, David. :)
Thanks for reading and sharing your own experience too. I don't usually like sharing links like that to my posts on other writers' posts but i felt it was relevant.
Absolutely relevant! :)
Just checked out this one. You definitely can, you can definitely describe it David.
Pow!
Thanks! Yes an unfortunate thing to be able to describe but I remember the process of writing that having some value in distracting from it all. Thanks for the comment!
I hear that. But, maybe creativity really has the power to transform pain into beauty. More songs repeatedly played on Spotify are melancholy, happy sad, I hear from Susan Cain's 'Bittersweet' work.
Words to hear ourselves first, witness it, and then who knows. We heal ourselves first, and then, perhaps if we're really lucky, others too. The words are breadcrumbs to the alchemy. Presenting them to the world is a monumental exercise in personal vulnerability. And the magic starts there...
I certainly find the writing process can be a welcome distraction or focus when suffering.