I've had migraines since I was little, maybe four or five. They seemed to get increasingly worse every time I had one. Now, at 19 years of age, I had several of them daily. In cases of stress, anger, or extreme sadness I heard ringing. I heard the ringing often because of my anxiety; I was stressed over everything. I've grown use to the barely audible ring, but it became louder and louder. Eventually, I wouldn't be able to continue whatever I was doing, I would have to cover my ears from the hideous noise, which didn't help at all. The ringing was dull nails scraping against the back of my head and behind my eyes. The pain was constant and never took a break. I haven't had any recent incidences with the ringing.
I was heading to the library that was a few blocks away from my apartment. I had previously browsed the web for information about 'ringing migraines', to find nothing, only 'cures' for migraines, which I had tried various of, which none assisted the slightest. My last resource of hope was that there would be some ancient book that gave cures for my rare case. I didn't want to go to the doctor's office about it, because I have before, and they didn't diagnose me with anything.
The crisp leaves crunched beneath my feet as I strolled down to the library. As I approached it, I could feel the faint ringing, which grew stronger as I approached. I tried my best to stay strong and keep walking, and staggered through the front doors, inching up to the front desk. As I approached the older woman sitting in a small chair, I could feel my anxiety building, and I could hear it too. After wobbling towards her for a few minutes, trying to decide the right words to say, I finally spat something out.
"Where are the healthcare books?" I asked, blushing a little.
The woman glanced up at me for a second before replying, "Over there sweetie, row 6 all the way at the end, the two bottom shelves."
I nodded a little and jogged over to the isle the woman had directed me to. Once I got there I was disappointed, I saw about three books, at most, about migraines specifically. I grabbed the biggest and most professional looking one, and plopped down on one of the provided tables, and scanned the table of contents. There were only a few chapters, the chapters must be long. Nothing seemed very helpful, all of the chapters were about normal migraines, and the scientific causes of them. I began to lose hope when something caught my eye.
Rare Cases of Migraines and Cures for them.............................................267
I quickly opened the page to the chapter, and read thoroughly, and I began to feel like I had found help. It started to talk about how migraines may be signs of brain tumors, cancer, damage to nerves, damage to skull, even eye problems could lead to them. I was chewing the nails on my one hand, and turning the page with the other, when I saw the heading for the next page;
History of Migraines
My mind blew to pieces. This was it. This was all you could find. You aren't ever going to find help. Who would even care about you? My fingers trembled, and I slammed the book shut. The ringing abruptly began to scream in my ears, and my eyes began to water. I took a huge breath in whilst tears began to drip from my eyes, and let out a deafening scream. I jumped up to my feet and dashed out of the isle, catching a glance of a figure in the corner of my eye.
I raced out of the library, as the lady watched puzzled, but didn't chase after me. I kept running to where my home was. I could barely breathe and my ears were ringing, my legs were tired and sore, but I kept running, my arms wrapped around my chest. I didn't wait for the cross guards to tell me when to go, I sprinted across the streets, almost being flattened by cars, and pulled to the ground once or twice by the cross guards. I saw my apartment complex come into view, and zipped through the lodge, past the elevator, and up the stairs. I fumbled my keys into the lock, and pushed open the door, slamming it shut and locking it behind me. I ripped off my shoes and leaped onto my bed, not bothering to turn on the lights or heat, just to rest and cry myself to bed, the ringing invading my head.
