Last week I had a tension headache for five days, my forehead so tight with holding my body together and overriding my back and hip pain, it was hard to the touch.
I sat or lay on a bed of cushions to work against a backdrop noise of pop and click as hip joints, knees, fingers and wrists snapped and shifted.
By Friday, I was crying with pain, without really even noticing, while trying to see my word document.
I returned about four months ago from a 20-month research trip to a country with minimal infrastructure, extreme climate and terrible living conditions, and political unrest. I’ve managed projects, led teams, done clandestine investigations into corruption under government radar – I owned a motorbike. God, I was insufferable.
But at the same time, I was taking UK-prescription painkillers from the local unregulated pharmacies. I was spending a lot of time lying…
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