My Life. My Migraine.

These past few months have been a rush of fresh air. Aimovig. The drug we'd all been waiting for, was approved by the FDA. Now a few months later, we have Ajovy and Emgality in the mix as well. For a brief background, new research has pointed to CGRP being a main inhibitor for migraines, and the goal of these new drugs is to either block the receptor or weaken them. For months, I read through the trials and the testimonies. Those from individuals who had been a part of early testing and focused studies. Chronic migraine patients, just like me, who suffered from more than 15 migraine days each month. These people showed promising results. Or so they said. The average reduction was by 6 days, which is huge, even if you're suffering from a migraine every day. And then they talked about the common side effects. Irritation at the injection site. Constipation. That's all they list. What if I told you, as a migraine patient, the actual results show that only 15% of

To describe my current state as "restless" would be quite a large understatement. Day in and day out, I sit. Then I lay down. Then I sit some more. You don't want to run until you can't. Running feels good because you feel free. When I was 8, I'd spend my days skating up and down my street. I'd go as fast as I could. I'd always stop as I reached the top of this big hill. I always told myself that one day I wouldn't stop. One day I would be brave enough to take on that hill, full speed ahead. I can't remember if I ever did. I certainly don't remember going full speed onto the busy road at the bottom of the hill. The nice thing about this hill was that it was always there. And you could look out past the neighborhood. Past the fields. On a good day, you could see Holy Hill in the distance. I think that's where it all started. This yearning to go beyond. To find the next highest spot and look out as far as you could see, and go

It's totally normal to wake up the morning after your 21st groggy, unable to piece together the night before, and wishing you were dead... Unless of course... unlike every other 21 year old, you were in bed by 9:30, spend the night tossing and turning trying to get the pain to just calm down... Not a single drop of alcohol involved in this hangover... Here's the catch, I wager my days. I put bets on when I'll cave in and reach for medication. But, that medication that I reach for in hopes of just making that awful pain stop, has some pretty "fun" side effects. So, here's my backwards hangover. 9:30 pm. The worst of it. The pain is throbbing. I can't stand up. Lying down hurts. 11:00 pm. I look to find something that will at least let me fall asleep. Eucalyptus oil and some lotion seems to do the trick... we'll call this the "water and ibuprofen next to the bed" 5:00 am. I finally give in to the pain. I give up. I scramble in

21 years ago, you two traipsed into Columbia St. Mary's and a few hours and c-section later, there I was. Sugarland said, "dear mom and dad, please send money. I'm so broke and it ain't funny" but you really showed her parents. The last thing I ever imagined when we loaded up the car with half my belongings and a fridge that, to be quite frank, had no interest in fitting in the car... was that I'd ever come back home. I spent 18 years of my life fighting to leave. Fighting to make my own rules and be my own person. And that's what I did. I pushed to have a job that would sustain me with my own apartment. I struggled living with complete strangers, because I was an adult and there was no reason to move back home for the summer. And then, you helped me drive halfway across the country. You equipped me with a car. The skills to excel in school and work and anything else I put my mind to. The resources to make my own doctors appointments and man

This all started with an idea. Black and white. How everyone around me saw this world that I must be living in because of my chronic migraine. But, as I lay here today in the dark, I realized that that's exactly what it is. There's a soft glow coming from above my curtains. There's a dim light escaping from the door down the hall where the curtains aren't drawn shut. There's a small wifi signal that is glowing green by my TV. My coffee maker has 2 small white lights, and my microwave has the time. Aside from these tiny light sources. It is dark. I know my gatorade is a dark blue. I know my journal has swirls of orange and pink and gold. My glass pears are the most gorgeous shade of blue. But here, in the dark, the colors are only imagined, and I quite literally am surrounded by a 1940's stop motion film. These filters that I shove on the pictures to contradict the idea of migraines being black and white, are actually an insight into the condition. It&

We live in this world that is constantly pushing everyone to take part in everything. Go get your degree. Find a husband. You better have your dream job by the time your twenty-five.  Oh, but you need to have kids before you turn thirty.  And, don't forget about transitioning from your tiny apartment to a home with extra bedrooms. You're going to need all that extra space for when those kiddos come.  What a crock of a shit. I mean really. With all this feminism that has captured the millennial aged women of our nation, it continues to baffle me when I am shamed for not wanting anything to do with any of that. You demand equal pay. You demand paid maternity leave. You demand longer maternity leave. You demand a realistic work - life balance. Work life balance? Funny, these concepts revolve around being an equal in the household. Where you and your significant other with split all the bills and the responsibilities related to the children. That is the wor

Here's a cute little cactus that I got for $1 and color photo because it is gorgeous outside and finally feels like fall is settling in to the Lowcountry. But don't let the warm colors confuse you, I feel like shit. Oh how I would love to pack up the new books I got and drive down to Folly and spend the day enjoying this weather. But that something that isn't in the cards and shouldn't be something I even consider when I'm feeling like this. There's actually a whole lot of "shouldn't"s that I've noticed and somehow still can't move past. Like today, I glanced at the clock. 2:30 PM. I shouldn't  be fighting off the overpowering urge to go to sleep. But here I am, pouring myself an ice cold glass of water and distracting myself in an attempt not to nap. Yes, my body needs a lot more rest than your average 20 year old. But, when I can barely sleep at night, why should I be taking a nap only hours after I've crawled out of

There's one thing most of the world seems to agree on. The distaste for rain. Sure, people long for a quiet day where they can curl up and nap away the afternoon as the rain falls softly outside. But, generally speaking, people hate the rain. They hate the way it messes with their hair. They hate the need to buy waterproof mascara. They hate having to tote an umbrella and wear clonky rain boots. They hate driving on puddle ridden roads. They hate the way the rain interrupts their plans for the day. Your beach day is canceled. Your cookout will have to be postponed. Your dogs will have to go to the park another day. There's mud. There's puddles inside. There's liability if a "wet floor" sign isn't properly placed. Recess is inside. You have to take your lunch in the poorly lit break room rather than venturing out. And if the rain keeps going, statistically you're more likely to be depressed. The whole idea of seasonal depr

When's the last time you were actually happy? I don't mean like someone said a funny joke and you laughed and enjoyed the moment, but truly happy. Content with the way life was progressing. Content with those around you. Do you remember? Maybe you do. Maybe you're happy now. But, no one is showing it. It's so out of trend to have a smile on your face. It's unacceptable to be happy with the way one's life goes. You can tell me I'm wrong all you want, but then you must be one of the few who doesn't scroll through Facebook and Twitter... which means you probably aren't even reading this. Everyone is angry. Everyone has the whole wide world against them. He's wrong and she's wrong. The only sane person is you, right? You're dumbfounded by this world so you express yourself. But in expressing yourself, you're contributing to the endless cycle. Everyone is depressed. Everyone has anxiety. Everyone suddenly has bipolar disorde

I've spent the last few days pretty much glued to my couch. Hiding in the dark depths of my old room. Spending my time remembering all the good things in life. Seriously, thank god for every bright moment I've ever had, no matter how big or small. Those little memories keep me going when I'm too out of it to even write. Too out of it to work on small projects or distract myself with Netflix. Today, I tried something a little different. As I lay on my couch, knowing my ice packs had failed me, questioning if maybe my antibiotics were to blame for this awful pain, wondering is this really all because I went to see a movie... I finally just laid flat on my back, found a "spa" playlist and put it on quietly. For the first time all day, I was able to drift a little bit into a soft sleep. After a few hours, my head wasn't throbbing if my eyes were open. Sitting up was a different story. Glancing at my phone definitely was a no go. But, something about t

To start, for all my Wisconsin friends, I present to you evidence that your movie theaters are overpriced and I don't care if you have fancy dream loungers. For the rest of you, here is physical evidence that I do, on occasion, leave my house. And yes, those numbers increase dramatically during the best month of the year. Leaving my house today was hard. I've spent this past weekend fighting to breathe... literally. Guess who has a sinus infection. Today I got antibiotics. When I'm actually sick sick, my body seems to be forced into making extra considerations. It decided oh what's going to hurt worse. Is migraine going to be the bad guy, or is whatever this new ailment going to take over for the time being. It's oddly refreshing to be honest. No, I wouldn't enjoy not sleeping at night because I can't breathe and having all the pressure move to the front of my face all of the time. But it's a different type of "pain" and maybe in