Mental Health ~ Living in Migraine Hell

Day 1,765,453 in migraine hell.

If not true, it feels this way. For weeks now, I have had a migraine. Not just weeks though, since I was all of 11 years old.

I wish I never had to share when I had a migraine. Unfortunately, it’s read on my face. The pain has an expression of its own. I glimpse ‘the look’. Tonight, my husband said, “I wish you could be done with these.” Leaving me filled with guilt and shame for not being able to be the wife he deserves. His words stung, though not intended.

Tonight, I couldn’t lie down. The pain throbbed at new levels. I may sleep in the recliner if it doesn’t let up. The pressure inside my head is agony and shoots all over the right side like a ping-pong ball. My nose is numb, my lip is numb, and the light is blinding discomfort.

I tried my non-medication tricks, no luck. Having bipolar, they aren’t comfortable prescribing the regular meds, so I’m left with over the counter aid and choosing which one is a challenge. So, I try them all until one works. It could work in half-hour or take days.

After decades of playing the migraine game, I’m tired. I wish I could tap-out, give in, cry uncle.

You win, migraine!

I won’t step out, because you hold me back. The fire you ignite in my brain can’t be extinguished. No one has the cure or an answer. “It’s a migraine,” is all I hear. Try this, don’t eat that, consider Botox injections, use these pills, drink that. The endless list of remedies is annoying. I’ve had migraines my entire life, I’ve probably tried them all.