Tuesday, May 4, 2010

it's all in my head

It always begins with a tiny point of colored light, flashing like an emergency beacon in the very center of my vision. Not even noticeable at first. My vision becomes fragmented in a way, and suddenly I realize I can't focus on anything in front of me because it's blocked by an invisible squiggle, like trying to see clearly through a pane of wavy antique glass. I feel frustration and anger at the disruption of whatever it is I'm working on or reading. Such bad timing! It really pisses me off, and I keep trying to forge on, writing out a check for my cell phone bill, but I can't even see the balance due.

I make a cup of strong, hot coffee and swallow three ibuprofen, to fortify myself against the headache that sometimes comes pounding out of left field after the visual disturbances subside.

The squiggle gets larger, turning into a pulsating snake of interconnected, multicolored triangles. It engulfs my entire field of vision from the left side to my right. All I need is the strains of Jefferson Airplane's White Rabbit piped in to feel like I'm on a bonafide acid trip.

Now I'm typing through the psychedelia, pretty much unable to see the keyboard or the words appearing on the screen. The snake undulates and jumps, slowly retreating out of my line of vision. Sunlight suddenly streaming through the window next to me hurts like hell and I think I'll retreat into the cool darkness of the living room and a comfy armchair to wait it out.


mo.stoneskin said...

I've only actually had that "invisible squiggle" once, but it was absolutely horrible. I worked on regardless, took some weedkiller I mean painkiller and it disappeared shortly after.

patty said...

I know what the feeling is even though I only had it once. It freaked me out enough to go to the doctor with a description to which she replied, "Sounds exactly like an ocular migrane." And she gave me a list of what not to eat or drink, but I think it was caused by going out of my office at noon with the sun shining extremely brightly...

Ani said...

Oh, I know these! Fortunately, without the pain, though. And mine are almost always just around the edges, a circle of undulating heat waves with a hole through the middle.

Yours sound so much worse, and I hope you never get one again.