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

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...

You See What I Show

You see my hair done. You see my makeup. You see my blemish free skin. You see a healthy glow. You don't recognize the tired, strained look in my eyes, because you've never been exposed to a truly "healthy" version of me. Forgive me for putting on the show. Forgive me for pretending that everything is fine. Forgive me for not looking sick. Forgive my negative outlook. Why? Because you don't get to see what this condition is. You don't see that I haven't slept in days. You don't see the bruises lining my legs because the heat has caused a rash on my skin. I understand that its a hard thing to wrap your head around. I mean I get it. I stood at work with a pain level 9. And as I walked around the store, it felt like someone was pushing from the inside of my skull down onto my eyelids. I had to forcibly hold back tears because the pain was so intense. I'd accidentally wander into an area where the sunlight was bouncing off of s...

It Hurts

To say I feel less than human, is probably a bit of an understatement. But I do. I've been home for a week. I've managed to pretty much lay in bed in agonizing pain the whole time. I had a half-assed attempt to see a friend that resulted in me rushing home as the nausea and aphasia set in. I successfully made it to massage therapy today. Which meant even after sleeping for roughly 2 hours, I got up at 7:30 and sat in traffic for hours to get to a less than expected appointment. Mind you, my previous massage therapist was so wonderful I'm most likely spoiled to other techniques. This lady was late, she sat in the same god awful traffic I did. We spent more time going over the woes of her morning, than we did discussing why I was there and what I hoped to achieve through various massage techniques. The massage room wasn't dimly lit, and even as the massage started, lights were still on. I found this odd, but decided to just keep my eyes closed. Then she started ...

My Life. My Migraine.

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