The Beauty of Pain.

“Can we cut that off, please?” I ask, struggling to make my voice loud enough.
The truck’s radio wasn’t strident, nor was the yellow-orange color of the song anything to be annoyed at, but I was feeling sick, and somehow the colors were making it worse. I realize now that because they were the same color as my pain, it was amplified. That’s correct: I have pain synesthesia as well. From cutting my hand to breaking a bone, every instance of pain is illuminated with color. This is far different from music to color synesthesia for several reasons. One: I project my pain colors, they seem to be on my body, rather than in my head. If I say my arm is glowing red I don’t mean that I have sunburn, but instead that it really is glowing red (for whatever reason). That is not to say that I don’t realize the color really isn’t there for all to see, I know that I’m the only one to see it, and I’ve always known it, even prior to my knowledge of synesthesia. It’s impossible for me to explain. I see the color, but I know that my skin (or inner muscles) hasn’t actually changed color, or become visible.
And the other reason is, it’s not as random as music is. It’s very precise. If I scratch my arm, only along the scratch mark will there be a color. It won’t move, nor will it fade until the pain does. Sure, it's pretty, but it's not enjoyable. It's still pain, after all.

Back to the truck.

Jacob spun the volume dial until the truck was silent.
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah, I just feel a little sick.”
My stomach was yellowish-orange on the inside; I could sense it synesthetically. But just because I see the problem, doesn’t mean I know what caused it. We had been playing tennis for a while and it was a little warm, but I drank plenty of water and I run daily so I didn’t think that was it. I didn’t feel tired or dehydrated in the least. The color came all of a sudden appearing the moment I sat down. This has never happened before, and still I am oblivious as to what caused it. Even the color is strange. Stomachaches are usually red, and with less detail and sharper edges than this.
Jacob turned the air on high, “do you feel hot?”
“Not really. Just a little.”
Nevertheless, the cool air felt good.
As I began to cool off, yet another strange thing happened. And this one scared me. The color spread instantly like a pulse through my entire body. Just for a second, then it went back. This only happens when I get really sick, and I’m talking ‘in bed for a week’ sick.
I shifted on the of air vents to the side, the frabreeze air sent was not helping. (What can I say? I’m a weird kid with chemical sensitivities.)
After just sitting and breathing deeply for a minuet the color began to fade slightly.
“Ok, I think I’m better now.”
He turned the air down a bit, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s still there, but it’s going away.”
The color traveled up my throat in a rounded pulse. I thought I would throw up. I glanced out the window, there was grass; I could if I needed to. Not wanting my youth pastor to have to stop so I could empty the contents of my stomach on the side of the road, I tried breathing again. It helped a little, but the color was still there. In fact, it was still there when Jacob took me home, and it’s still there now, faded in color, but still there. It spread to my head as well, and I’ll blame the slight dizziness on any typos and grammatical errors this entry has.


GodSpeed,

_Nathanael