It amazes me how the physical and mental are constantly working together and against itself, yet as a system we seem to separate them like they are two different entities. Those of us who work with people in pain know for fact that there is no separation. In the last few days I have witnessed the concerted take down my own system has pushed.

I sit here writing this missive, music pounding in my ears to quiet the internal noise. For months now I have been doing my best to keep myself steady in the what feels like never-ending stream of chaos. Some mine, so much from those I love, watching constant hits, so little reprieve and so much dead sadness. I’ve had some lows, I have had so much grace- but it always feels fragile.

The bad habits and masking always within easy reach, fighting to do the ‘good’ thing. Honesty vs hiding (provided there is a safe place). Protein, veg, water vs sugar, alcohol and carbs. Exercise, meditation, responsible medication use vs numbing with meds.

4 days ago a migraine settled in. Not surprising given the weather change, the joys of menopause and the amount of constant stress, that one of these gems would try to bust out of my brain. Raw burning cotton filled my head, the muscles down through my neck becoming cement and the inside pressure clanking so loud. Loads of water, migraine pain meds, ice and sleep. Waking the next morning the knock was still there but seeming manageable. By afternoon the take down had begun in earnest. The eyesight blurry, movement bringing waves of nausea, craving stillness, even from breathing and meds hardly touching it. The only thing making it remotely liveable was a little cannabis. Dulls the pain, gets rid of the nausea. But the opening for the ‘other’ had already happened.

So which monster took the opportunity in my weakened state? The one who hates me most. The one who wants me to believe I am only a commodity and easily replaced for almost everyone.

The ‘great massage therapist’- so many others out there, some I have trained…..

A partner…it might take time but maybe someone less complicated will come along.

A friend….. a mist that will fade quickly, there’s always another that can provide laughs, space and interest.

I leave no mark, no need, no want, no lasting anything, kinda like fast food. But…….

A mother…. That’s the tough one, that’s the one that will leave the biggest empty. That’s my biggest strongest weapon against the vicious monsters. That is the anchor.

So today, the headache has receded to a constant dull throb inside, the rhythmic chant of monsters, I am doing my best to drown out with music. The exhaustion of the last lifetime pouring down my face in rivulets. All while replying pleasantly to texts. Desperately wanting to ask for validation. Wanting to hear that my existence has meaning to others. Frozen from reaching out, not wanting to add this desperation to a growing pile of crap out there. Fear of being rejected. Fear of the fact my masks have always done such a good job that instead of being seen in need I am seen enough to get a pat on the head and reminded that this too shall pass. The absolute fear of having someone bear witness to the puddle mess I am. The fear of it being a never ending cascade of trauma and pain that will drain anyone silly enough offering physical space.

I told a friend a while back that I knew it was an absolute tragedy that I have only allowed myself the vulnerability to cry in front of another a handful of times in the last decade. Yet I have held many through their breaking moments, with out judgment and with the patient compassion I so crave. What I left out is that in those handful of times, less than half felt safe. Intentionally cruel or not, the other times I was told I am too hard to handle when I am upset or that of course I will get through, I always do..’pat on the head’, you are good now right?

There are spaces I have where I can vent but I have mastered the passive talk. The telling of the frustration, fear, complication, but no emotion, always written, never looking at anyone in the eye so they can see that I am about to break. Careful language as to not scare anyone. Being analytical, and a fast apology if I feel like I am being needy. Pull back and isolate until the need passes. Give nothing away. The amazing ability to switch gears if I can be needed instead of needing. Fucking hell I am a walking contradiction. I am in a loop of my own creation. One that offered protection when I was young but has become a prison that I can’t seem to make my own key for. So then, which came first, the headache or the bubbling tension needing attention? In some ways it matters not. This is what it is. And I know I am not he only one who has mastered this art of broken deception, yet it’s funny how lonely it still feels.

So for now, a few more Tylenol, water, wash my face and get to the gym. Let the heavy beats pounding in my head (music and pain) create a rhythm to push my self to. I’ll get through to the other side, I always do………….