Pushing Through and Pushing On

Bad advice I receive from everyone: Push Through

God. I hate that phrase. "Can't you just push through it?"

No Jessica I can't fucking see, I obviously can't push through this.

But, what on earth do I keep doing? Pushing through it.

I started my new job Sunday... I was shocked. I woke up and there wasn't a hint of pain. I kept waiting all day for that pain to show its ugly smile. It never came. Nausea showed its ugly face. I'll put it off to nerves of starting new and not knowing what to do. That all wore off after lunch. But that sharp stabbing pain, didn't come.

32 hours of pure relief. What a concept.

But let me tell you, Memorial Day I crashed. I woke up in that all too familiar pain. I spent a few hours conning myself to get out of bed. Then a few more convincing myself to not go back to bed.

Come new job day 2, and I didn't wake up feeling fabulous, but after being up for a bit I was feeling okay. I got through day 2 with no pain.

I actually sat down and thought woah. What if a new job that is actually my dream job is it. This new perfect slice of life I have discovered. What if this is all I needed and my migraines aren't real?

Wrong. The honeymoon died.

Which brings me to pushing through.

Gosh I wanted to call out so badly this morning. My head just pulsed and pulsed all day long. I also spent all day with a wonderful trainer. Quick talking. Talks with her hands. Energetic. Loud. In an already loud design center.

I literally moved to Wisconsin to get away from hurricane season... and what do you know the first hurricane of the year decided to run its course straight to me. In fucking Wisconsin.

But I pushed through. I learned all about our largest upholstery collection and had my second official customer. I actually didn't want to leave by the time my shift was over because I was having so much fun with the learning exercises.

So tonight I'll take a note from my good friend F. Scott Fitzgerald. I'll push on, even if the current is against me.

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

A.

Comments

Defining "Normal"

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I Know I Look Fine

Let's all take a moment to be very honest with ourselves. If we looked the way we felt 99% of the time none of us would look all too great. This isn't something that is specific to my condition. This is something anyone can deal with. Got arthritis? Got a UTI? Getting over a cold? No one is going to proudly display the dark circles under their eyes, and lots of makeup companies have perfected concealer to hide just that. But I'll put up with your looks. Your confused faces. Your attempted sympathetic "well I hope you feel better" as I rush away from work. Why? Because there's no way you can ever SEE the pain and the symptoms I'm experiencing. Sure my pupil is literally taking over the entire blue part of my eye... but hey I'm probably just stoned or something. I don't know how you'd be able to see that my body is saying hey if you don't get into a dark room right now, lay down, and try and consume some food I'm goin...

My Life. My Migraine.

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