|In paradise with a headache.|
I've been living with anxiety for, like, ever. I was an anxious child and it turns out I'm a pretty anxious adult. I do my best to hide it but I really only think I'm fooling myself. I recall when I was teaching high school one of my students described me as, "Anxious and nice." I was kind of taken aback by that. I like to think of myself as a calm, laid back Buddhist. But the truth is I'm edgy as all get out. Just lay a finger on my neck or shoulders and you'll be like, "Damn girl. I could bounce a quarter off of you!"
I carry my anxiety in my shoulders. They're usually hunched up close to my ears. When I'm driving, I look like an old lady with my shoulders hunched up and my chin jutting out over the steering wheel. I'm constantly having to remind myself to push my shoulders back down. To relax. To chill the eff out. But then—boing! There they go again. They pop right back up to the perma-hunch.
My anxiety has been so high for the past few weeks that I've had a constant headache. For the first couple of weeks of the perma-headache, Tylenol seemed to do the trick. But since last Friday, nothing has worked. I've tried Tylenol, Advil, Excedrin, Caffeine, Claritin, Claritin-D, Flonase, massages and I even went to the walk-in clinic and got a rather humiliating shot in my butt to try and kill the pain.
I did notice that the headache did temporarily go away while I got a massage last night. So my therapist suggests that this means it's a tension headache rather than a brain tumor. (You know that's where my thoughts went—worst case scenario.)
It's so odd to me that your psychological state can cause physical pain. Your brain is so powerful that it can induce physical manifestations of your psychological pain. That just blows my mind. (Ha—literally!) And then I wonder—what's the point of all this? Why would nature design us that way? What good could it possibly do for us as a species to suffer physically as a result of psychic trauma? There must be some sort of evolutionary reason this happens, right Darwin?
Maybe attending to our psychic pain is necessary to our survival?
Maybe the only way some of us will take care of ourselves emotionally is if we're practically crippled with pain.
Or maybe that's just me?