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

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 ...

Positive Notes

Here I go mixing things up before things have really taken off. My featured picture is intended to represent the way chronic illnesses and disabilities are only really seen in black and white. My words are intended to fill in all that grey space that is ignored. But today I needed a little color. Because at the end of the day, there's a lot of brightness and light and hope that is key component to my every day battle. So here's a sneak peak and my brand new apartment. I think I've spent the last 4 or 5 years waiting for the day that I had a place of my own. Not because I wanted freedom to do what I pleased or had the same urge to be an adult and do adult things. I in no way want to make anyone think that adulting is fun or recommended for anyone. I didn't want my own place. I needed it. I needed to not have to snarl at my parents for running the garbage disposal or cutting the grass when my head hurt too badly to get out of bed. I couldn't take one more la...

Tips and Tricks: Migraines Without Meds

We've all got that one thing that we know will make us be more comfortable, more ourselves. That little something we feel gives us an edge in whatever we're doing. It's that red pair of shoes that'll make us stand out from the crowd because there really isn't a wrong time to wear them, but they certainly aren't expected. It's that lucky pair of socks. It's the green scarf. It's our lucky pen. We want to be comfortable. But, when we've got outside forces controlling a pulsing sensation in our heads, comfort is about as far away as the sun we're desperately trying to avoid. And if you're in my position, reaching for the bottle of pain killers isn't always the right choice. To be completely honest, my pain meds scare me. Every time I get into some trance while I'm on them. Every time I feel myself coming down. Every time the pain sneaks back in. Some days I convince myself that the medication simply wore off and the br...

My Life. My Migraine.

Search This Blog