My first recollection of CH dates to around 1987, and, like so many, knew nothing of CH for decades. Partly because the timing of my episodes almost always coincided with the misery that is high summer in the mid-Atlantic region of the US, when the atmosphere itself seemed as congested and distended as my head felt, I assumed for years that sinus headaches afflicted me and consumed decongestants in such quantities it's a wonder I wasn't suspected as a producer of crystal meth. Episodes would last weeks I guess, but the frequency of attacks was such that I could continue deluding myself about what was going on--let's say a bad day would be waking early morning (5-ish) either in the grip of a headache or rapidly heading to one. Then a reappearance late afternoon.
But over the past decade the pattern has evolved such that 9:00-10:00 p.m. has become the customary witching hour, and when an episode plays out, with attacks following their waxing and waning pattern, that time of day more or less remains home base.
Here's why CH induces such psychological distress: attacks will occur with an uncanny regularity that you can set your watch to, and you therefore spend a chunk of your day in expectant dread of that hour, whatever it is. Then there comes a day when that hour goes by and no attack occurs. Ha! The joke's on you again! Did you make the mistake of expecting punctuality? Oh, the irony of a malady so unusual in its circadian tendency that it's become one of the diagnostic criteria, and which nonetheless will likely as not fail to adhere to that behavior ...
As the other responses have more or less asserted: ultimately, you will find that the rhythm of both episodes and attacks within a given episode will never truly conform to a dependable pattern. What's more, you arguably worsen your own anxiety by expecting them to do so and then finding they don't.
Hang in there. Sometimes I find some comfort reflecting on the fact that, for once, the pain you're experiencing is only that, whereas pain otherwise is most often a warning of a problem. And of course that reflection might also make me grind my teeth at the utter "pointlessness" of excruciating pain that's about nothing.