War with Words

                        My Dear Migraine You wanted to be my friend… So, will you help me face the bullets of questions people keep firing at me? “Why are you frustrated?” “Why are you depressed and lonely?” “Why don’t you like lights and sounds?” “Why are you afraid?” “Why do you keep getting headaches?” Instead of helping or understanding, they just keep shooting questions at me, dear. Do you know what? I lost everything the moment you decided to enter my life. People think I’m faking it—that my pain is nothing more than “just a headache.” But it’s not. It’s a sharp, one-sided, throbbing agony, like someone hammering nails into my skull. Sometimes, I think labour pains might be easier than this torture. Vertigo and unconsciousness —they have no idea what it’s like. They don’t know when it will strike, when I’ll collapse. Yet, I have to keep working, all while dodging their endless questions. They mock me for pref...