I was joking around on IRC and Twitter today with @ashedryden and started alliterating randomly for fun, apropos this Tumblr:
New neuroses, now neatly nested.
Then she challenged me again:
<ashedryden> now if you can rephrase it so each word is one letter longer than the word before it
<ashedryden> you would win an internet.
<ashedryden> I would hand deliver it with cake.
I actually tried to do this for a moment and gave up (it stopped being fun). But it reminded me how much I enjoy embracing constraints when being creative. For example, last fall, a coworker randomly asked me to write a sonnet without using the letter “e”.
Rather than stifling my creativity, constraint seems to slow me down, make the process more meditative and deliberate, and ultimately explore more options.
It doesn’t seem as much like self-censorship. When there are fewer choices, it feels easier to choose among the remaining ones, and moreover, easier to see down the paths those choices lead to.
I am kind of unsure why I was so insistent in the past that the headaches I regularly deal with couldn’t possibly meet the definition of a migraine. And I get asked that sort of question pretty regularly because I deal with debilitating headaches pretty regularly.
I guess I was getting hung up on some of the weirder symptoms that my doctor asked me about (auras, photophobia). But let’s look at what I do experience for a moment.
- They’re relatively frequent. Sometimes a few times a month.
- They’re universally relegated to one side of my head. Almost always the left side.
- They usually last a day or a few days.
- They very slowly pulse, ebbing in waves of pain for a moment before flowing into a momentary remission.
- I’m beginning to realize they are often triggered by stress and anxiety. I noticed one come on strong just after a stressful, depressing meeting the other day (smack dab in the middle of a relatively stressful week for me). On the other hand, during my December holiday break, I was completely headache-free.
- Most importantly, they’re pretty bad, and on some days, I just know I won’t be able to function well. Such as today, I’m taking off work unexpectedly to deal with it. (With all the appertaining guilt and anxiety about that fact.)
If Wikipedia is to be believed, I am pretty sure that I am in fact dealing with a true migraine (as much as the idea of “true” and “false” diagnoses bothers me).
I reckon it’s time to discuss this with my therapist or even my doctor, but I’m not looking forward to what I imagine and predict will be a struggle to be taken seriously and get some kind of medicinal help.
You may have noticed that I don’t allow any form of comments on my site. This isn’t a technological limitation—the software supports it fine. I’ve got a few reasons for not allowing comments, but they boil down to this: this is my website, and you have the entire rest of the Internet for your own comments.
My reasons, such as they are, follow.
- Comments are a total waste of my time. Catching spam, moderating content, and generally monitoring discussion is a time sink which only grows over time.
- Without comments, I retain absolute control over my site. This means I can make assurances about what visitors will see.
- Finally, I just hate comments in general. Let it be your mantra: Never read the comments. Repeat this in the morning to yourself, let it guide you, and you’ll never go wrong. I can count the times on one hand that I’ve come away from a comment thread more edified than I entered it. On the other hand, I’ve personally had comment threads vampirically drain away a bit of my soul and leave only regret in its place. Why would I do that to you all?