There was this other post
But it got obliterated by a computer restart this afternoon. Suffice to say I was much better and the post was rather cheery, which this one isn't going to be entirely. I slept a lot of time today, never turned lights on, but I'd been actually springy and able to wander around freely in the house without much trouble.
This wonderful small step in the happy direction ended when I decided it was time to finally brave getting all clean again.
The bath worked for about twenty seconds before having pressure on my skin started driving me crazy. So I drained the tub, intended to take a shower and wash my hair in the shower. This was where everything went pretty instantly blurry, and for the first time in many, many years I realized just how heavy my hair is when it's wet. Dizzy reactions made for a very slow shower and about two hours of my head on a pillow, barely lifting a few inches until my hair finally dried.
Until all the weight finally left pulling down on my head anytime I moved.
Add to this that I tried my second of the three experimental pills which cost seventy dollars, with pretty much the same results as yesterday. Everything's a little clearer, a little less painful, but it's no where near actually helpful. It could be the medicine making it lighter or the general swings of my head, since it comes and goes without the medication as is. So not enough results for far too much money/guilt.
Although I did have someone to make it better, I spent a lot of this evening post bath thinking about my teenage years. This thing that’s happening right now, with my head, and the migraines. I've had two people point out that they haven't seen me have migraine like this ever or in years. Not this long, especially. This is what my late childhood, my teenage years, were like. Not once in a great while. No, more like once or twice a month. Every month. For years.
I used to miss school. I used to spend it hiding in my bed, cringing whenever doors on the opposite side of the house downstairs was closed quietly, for days to weeks. Crying was out of the question, it would take too much effort and movement, cause too much extra pain. Interesting prison-like, disgusting feeling to look back, knowing that not moving, not blinking, not crying, not breathing except slowly and very little, was the very best way to get through everything. For days. For weeks.
You know, I had more windows and ambient light in that room, too.
Those dark maroon curtains all through the present apartment were a smart idea, even if they weren't bought with this kind of sanity in mind.
One of those someone's pointed out, too, that this is my body going back to normal. After not having medication for almost a year now. I'm going to start having my main far more expensive medication again starting this next week, but it just reminds me. That to not have this medication for a year, after so many on, means I may go back it consistently. That it may mean expensive medication for the rest of my life. And a period of migraines during any pregnancy and post-pregnancy baby-related periods.
On the main medication the promise is three-four weeks a month I won't have a migraine. On one week there is the maybe. But even that one isn't perfect. It's just the best possibility found so far. The only one out of dozens and dozens and dozens that showed me any results at all when they were literally putting me on something new almost every month or two months.
I want to not be annoyed and doubtful about all experimental/new medications a doctor mentions to me.
There may be something. But all these years and all those attempts, they make me resigned more than anything else.
I think I need to stop fighting it and just sleep. Tomorrow is Tate's trial and the last day before school. And there is only so very little I can do but wait out everything; inside and outside my head. Even the far more confusing things, which I've written down nothing of at all.
Because those two belong to my heart and there is nothing in a dictionary or literature that will be less than truth when it tried to form from the void a grasping explanation. Only time and the tides will see those out, too.
For now, darkness. For now, sleep.
This wonderful small step in the happy direction ended when I decided it was time to finally brave getting all clean again.
The bath worked for about twenty seconds before having pressure on my skin started driving me crazy. So I drained the tub, intended to take a shower and wash my hair in the shower. This was where everything went pretty instantly blurry, and for the first time in many, many years I realized just how heavy my hair is when it's wet. Dizzy reactions made for a very slow shower and about two hours of my head on a pillow, barely lifting a few inches until my hair finally dried.
Until all the weight finally left pulling down on my head anytime I moved.
Add to this that I tried my second of the three experimental pills which cost seventy dollars, with pretty much the same results as yesterday. Everything's a little clearer, a little less painful, but it's no where near actually helpful. It could be the medicine making it lighter or the general swings of my head, since it comes and goes without the medication as is. So not enough results for far too much money/guilt.
Although I did have someone to make it better, I spent a lot of this evening post bath thinking about my teenage years. This thing that’s happening right now, with my head, and the migraines. I've had two people point out that they haven't seen me have migraine like this ever or in years. Not this long, especially. This is what my late childhood, my teenage years, were like. Not once in a great while. No, more like once or twice a month. Every month. For years.
I used to miss school. I used to spend it hiding in my bed, cringing whenever doors on the opposite side of the house downstairs was closed quietly, for days to weeks. Crying was out of the question, it would take too much effort and movement, cause too much extra pain. Interesting prison-like, disgusting feeling to look back, knowing that not moving, not blinking, not crying, not breathing except slowly and very little, was the very best way to get through everything. For days. For weeks.
You know, I had more windows and ambient light in that room, too.
Those dark maroon curtains all through the present apartment were a smart idea, even if they weren't bought with this kind of sanity in mind.
One of those someone's pointed out, too, that this is my body going back to normal. After not having medication for almost a year now. I'm going to start having my main far more expensive medication again starting this next week, but it just reminds me. That to not have this medication for a year, after so many on, means I may go back it consistently. That it may mean expensive medication for the rest of my life. And a period of migraines during any pregnancy and post-pregnancy baby-related periods.
On the main medication the promise is three-four weeks a month I won't have a migraine. On one week there is the maybe. But even that one isn't perfect. It's just the best possibility found so far. The only one out of dozens and dozens and dozens that showed me any results at all when they were literally putting me on something new almost every month or two months.
I want to not be annoyed and doubtful about all experimental/new medications a doctor mentions to me.
There may be something. But all these years and all those attempts, they make me resigned more than anything else.
I think I need to stop fighting it and just sleep. Tomorrow is Tate's trial and the last day before school. And there is only so very little I can do but wait out everything; inside and outside my head. Even the far more confusing things, which I've written down nothing of at all.
Because those two belong to my heart and there is nothing in a dictionary or literature that will be less than truth when it tried to form from the void a grasping explanation. Only time and the tides will see those out, too.
For now, darkness. For now, sleep.