Poetry

a real headache

Image Courtesy of JenniferHealy under fair use.

Some people just don’t understand what a real headache is like.

 

I mean, people describe things as a “headache” all the time.

 

Like, “oh, that child is such a headache”

or, “that project was a total headache”,

and you just know that they don’t understand what a real headache is like.

 

I’m not talking about the ones I’ve been getting since I was in grade 7. No, not the migraines that make me go blind and throw up. But the ones worse than that.

 

I’m talking about the headache you get when you’re burnt out. The headache that comes after you’ve been bawling your eyes out for a solid hour. When you are at your drop dead lowest point so far this year, and your tears have finally dried, but your body decides to break too. No, it couldn’t be happy with just the heartbreak, just the utter disappointment and hatred you feel for yourself. Your body just has to go ahead and break under the pressure too, making sure that no part of you can do it anymore. 

 

I’m talking about how when you’ve wept for so long you feel genuinely rough, like your skin is burning from your salty tears rubbing in the pain. And that saltiness transpires into that sharp pain in your right temple, begging for hydration because you literally can’t cry anymore until you give yourself some water, but you can’t go get some because you’re curled up in a ball trying to hide from the world and yourself.

 

Because you know that you can get hurt by the world but you hurt yourself too, and you don’t know how to protect yourself from one without throwing yourself into the other.

 

I’m talking about that headache. A real headache. The headache I’ve had for the past year. 

 

Man, some people just don’t understand what a real headache is like.


Image Citation

[1] JenniferHealy, Depression. JenniferHealy, 2014.

(Link to Image: https://www.deviantart.com/jenniferhealy/art/Depression-429826519)

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