I started having them in college, where they ruined my social life, and didn't do a lot for my classwork. I had a terrible time with them until I was 26. My father died. My mother needed me. I had to be there for her, so I started ignoring the damned things, and they went away, until mother and I were in England. Then I had a couple of real beauties, one on the way to see the Mary Rose. I wish I knew why. Jet lag, is a possibility I suppose, since I didn't consume Marmite.
Once you know what they are, they're easier to deal with. I got rid of one of them by trying to remember how to dance the Sean Truibhas.
(A complicated Scottish dance I did, very badly, in my youth.)
Now seeing the words Martin Gibson on a posting again almost triggered one. Those are words I only want to see on guitars.