Edits! [part four]

Last weekend I was mostly… ill.

I do try not to whine about my various illnesses too much.

It’s hard though, when it feels like your own body/brain is trying to sabotage you.

So, long-time readers (hi, mum) will know that I suffer from migraines. That’s my biggest health-gripe, really.

I’ve had them on and off since I was about 17. I think I had my first one ever when I was about 9, and I remember it vividly. It was so scary, everything hurt. My mum desperately tried to find something to help and she must have been so fed up because nearly everything made it worse — except for lying in silence in a dark room and trying to pretend I didn’t feel sick and brain-explodey.

But they became way more regular around 17. They’re still sicky and brain-explodey, but now they also sometimes cause other symptoms too: aphasia (do you know how hard it is for me of all people to suddenly forget half my vocabulary?!), and weird vision-related auras like floating, sparkly lights and distorted letter Cs just out of my line of sight.

As I’ve got older I’ve also realised that my migraines do not only bother me on the day of the head pain and all the rest of it. In fact, through research I now understand that I suffer in the run-up (pre-drome phase) and much moreso in the post-drome phase.

Last weekend, the post-drome phase brought me a day of genuine, chemical-imbalance depression.

So, my Friday was lost to me in a fog of pain and then medication-induced sleep. And Saturday… well, Saturday was lost, too. I could not make myself get out of bed. I couldn’t make myself edit. I couldn’t make myself do anything, except that thank god the newest Alice Coldbreath book came out so I spent the whole day ensconced in the comforting, familiar world of Karadok. I cried. I slept. I ate junk food. I apologised every time my boyfriend came to check on me (which he did a lot, because he’s sweet and was SO worried). I hated myself — except, I didn’t, because I knew this wasn’t me, it was a problem with my dopamine levels post migraine.

And, thankfully, it only lasted a day. It usually does only last a day for me, and I know that’s incredibly lucky. I woke up on Sunday and went outside (I KNOW!!) — initially for an eye test (very pleased to report my -9.25 vision is still… -9.25), and then to meet a friend for lunch, a walk on Putney Heath and some editing together.

It was a stunning, sunny day, and when I got home… I immediately had another migraine.

So. That was fucking brilliant.

So no, I didn’t get much done last weekend.

And once upon a time I would have spent all this week beating myself up over that fact. I’d have stayed up too late after work every night trying to claw back productive time lost to being legitimately ill.

But I must have been on a personal growth journey or something, because I didn’t do that. I watched Queen Charlotte on Netflix instead. I spun several mini-skeins of merino-silk yarn. I had some long baths and went to bed early with some Pixi eye mask thingies on.

And that meant that today (a Saturday, despite what the publication date of this thing would have you believe) I’ve managed to edit things pretty well. I’ve managed to get my re-structured novel to the midpoint, and I’ve made some written notes to help restructure the 2nd half tomorrow and Monday.

I obviously wish I didn’t get ill quite so often, but I feel like rather than being upset about it, my main takeaway instead is… I’m still getting my writing done. At this rate, there’s a chance I might have my first sweep of edits ready to go over again at the end of May, which means my overall end-of-July deadline feels thoroughly doable.

So, bollocks to migraines.