On the edges of my vision there’s a shimmer.
A flash of color.
A vagueness.
A hint of the darkness to come.
I’ve learned that if I keep my eyes forward, it is somehow light enough to ignore. But if I look around, it roars out at me as a lion upon its prey. The strength of its presence causes my whole body to react. My head starts a low pounding, my stomach clenches and my knees feel weak. If left at it’s height, it will take over every part of me, leaving me writhing in pain and fear.
Photo by Sebastian Muller on Unsplash
So I take the easy path. I fix my eyes straight ahead and breathe deeply. I push it back down. And try not to imagine the colors – the rainbow of them arching out from the center that is a blinding white. I try not to think of the blurriness that makes everything around that color, ‘other’. Something other than what it is. Something that no longer makes sense, as if it’s from another time or place. Something that leaves it’s edges behind with every blink of my eyes.
As my breathing deepens and the shimmer lessens, I forget about the urgency of doing more to avoid it returning and blithely go about my day. The lion has been tamed and the prey has been rescued.
For the moment, at least.
Once again, another head turn, a glance too fast for my eyes to adjust and there it is again. But this time, the shimmer is brighter. Bigger. And somehow, darker. The colors have turned deeper shades of themselves, the blinding white has taken on a ferocious tint. As my head pounds again and my joints turn to mush, I remember with clarity that this has happened already today. My hands will shake if I let them, from the fear that is dogging me now, but I harden my will and do what I have to do to avoid the nightmare that just might come anyway.
The darkness is like the lion in the show – the audience blissfully believes it to be tamed and so will draw nearer it than they should. But the trainer knows that it’s only biding its time until it can strike when the trainer has turned his back and let down his guard.
The darkness is coming.
~This is a description of the visual auras that I’ve been getting off and on the past 14 years. The nightmare that comes after this, is a complete loss of vision in my left eye for about half an hour and then such a vicious migriane (I’ve taken to calling them nuclear migraines) that I’m left crying, laying with an ice pack on my face and if I do have to move, I end up crying even more. These are the ones that make me wonder if I will live through it; they make me wonder if there will ever even be an end to the pain. So there’s good reason to avoid these as much as possible. Of course, sometimes, no matter what you do, they come anyway.
~Laura
the start of a good life 