Brey Willows

This is going to sound super hyperbolic. But I promise, it isn’t.

I haven’t done any writing since Saturday (today is Weds). Saturday was a travel day, as we headed home from our week away writing. It was a good day. I didn’t feel amazing on Sunday for hormonal reasons. On Monday, I felt properly crap.

Demolition on my brain began on Monday night.

It started with the pain behind the eye. Then moved on, dropping cones along my skull to the base of my neck. And then they brought in the TNT, the jackhammers, and the nail guns. These weren’t for any purpose. I mean, I might be able to deal with it if I’d have a better brain after, but they were just in there blowing things apart like teenagers given free rein to cause chaos.

No light. No noise. No computers. An audiobook on low, and that was about it. Ice packs. Pain pills. Nausea. Dizziness.

By the time I went to sleep on Monday night, I truly thought that I might be headed for some kind of aneurysm. Something in my head was going to explode. At least when it did, the pain would cease.

I thought about the people I love, and for the first time, I knew I’d done my best by them. I know my wife knows how much I love her, and I know I showed up as my best self for her. Even if it wasn’t enough, I tried. My mom knows I love her. My friends know how I feel about them.

If I didn’t wake up, if my brain did pop, at least I could go knowing that they know what they meant to me.

On Tues morning I cried. I don’t usually do that, as I’m pretty tough. I’ve learned to live with pain and issues. But when the demolition team moves in, there’s simply a level that makes it hard to exist. My wife held me, helped me get the TENS machine hooked up, and we went about our day. It eased, eventually, and today I’m almost functional.

But it has made me think: do the people you love know how you feel? Have you told them? Because every moment could be our last. Let them know, clearly, so there’s no doubt. It’s weird, the peace it gives you.