Just briefly: my Botox is starting to wear off and I only just started Lyrica (preventive #7) last week, so that means very limited computer time for the next two weeks. I go in for my next Botox treatment on September 8, so I hope to be posting more regularly after that.
In the meantime, please check out the wonderful blogs in my blogroll. I'll try to pop in here as my Migraine brain allows.
Be well,
MJ
Monday, August 25, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
guest post
If you haven't seen it already, I was featured as one of the guest bloggers on the Invisible Illness Week Blog: should I claim the label to my illness as part of my identity?
Be sure to check out the other guest bloggers featured there.
Be well,
MJ
Be sure to check out the other guest bloggers featured there.
Be well,
MJ
Sunday, August 17, 2008
a bullet-point update
I'm a bit behind on posting, so let's see if I can summarize in a concise way.
Be well,
MJ
- The July Pain Blog Carnival, over at How To Cope With Pain. I didn't submit an entry this month, but it's still got some great reads.
- On a related note, How To Cope With Pain is accepting entries for the August Pain Blog Carnival. No theme, just your favorite post. The deadline is August 22, so submit your entry here.
- The August Headache and Migraine Blog Carnival at Diana Lee's Somebody Heal Me. This month's theme is "when people don't 'get' Migraine disease". Some great reads here as well (I'm still working through it). Once again, yours truly missed the submission deadline, so you'll have to wait for next month to see me included.
- Diana Lee is now accepting entries for September's Headache and Migraine Blog Carnival. September's theme is "your best tips on improving communication between patients and their doctors". Entries are due by September 5, and you can submit them here.
- Marijke Durning over at Help My Hurt has a new feature, the Topic of the Month. This month's is "how can you find help for your pain?" Check it out and comment with your ideas here.
- Another plug for Help My Hurt. Marijke posted about the closing of the midwifery program at Miami Dade College in Florida. Read her full post here, including what you can do to help protect a woman's right to choose her method of delivery.
- If you're a blogger on chronic illness, be sure to check out Invisible Illness Blog's call for submissions. National Invisible Illness week is coming up next month, and it's up to us to publicize it! Any CI sufferer, or their loved ones, will find great information at their website, here.
Be well,
MJ
Sunday, August 3, 2008
overcommitted and overwhelmed
I've been having a tough time lately. I feel like I say that a lot, but it's the truth. Dealing with my Migraine is difficult enough; add in the normal life stuff and it gets to be too much.
It is all I can do right now to go to work for 40 hours a week, and keep up basic maintenance of my health: sleep, diet, drugs. Add to that, the supplementary health stuff: doctor's appointments, phone calls to my doctors, managing my mental health, support group (MMC forums). Then all the "normal" stuff: relationships with DBF and my family, errands, bills, money, social obligations, email, reading blogs.
It's enough to make anyone tear their hair out, especially when it seems like tearing my hair out may temporarily distract from the pain of my Migraine.
I haven't even added into that list the things I want to do: vacations, trips, dinners out with friends, volunteering. Anything that will get me off the couch and out of the apartment.
Over and over, my body tells me: NO. You cannot do this or you will pay.
Back in February, the president-elect of our local chapter of AIA (American Institute of Architects) called me up and offered me the nomination as Associate Director of the Board. This is a very prestigious position, rarely offered to someone as young as me. My responsibilities include helping to steer the direction of our local AIA for my one-year term, participating in monthly meetings as well as meetings on hot-button issues, attending frequent AIA events, representing the young contingent of the AIA, and coming up with a project to work on during my one-year term. I accepted this position without hesitation, as it offers me an opportunity I've been dreaming of. Uncontested, I was officially recognized as one of the new Directors in June, and my term starts in September.
But how on earth will I be able to do this?
I had hoped, prayed, expected, assumed that by September my health will be better. But it won't be. It isn't. I can barely squeeze out a 40-hour week most weeks. How can I work as much as I'm supposed to and put in all this volunteer time? I don't think that I can.
When I was in college, pursuing my degree in architecture, I pushed myself beyond all reasonable limits to finish studio projects, finish research papers, finish courses. I graduated on time (5 years) with a double-minor, a year abroad, and enough credits for 7 years' worth of schooling. I look at that, I look at all I achieved, and I look at now. I should be able to just push through this, I think to myself. Look at all those all-nighters in school. Look at the impossible things I accomplished. Why can't I just do that now?
Because I'm sick. Even though my health first spiraled out of control in college (third year), the Topamax my first neuro prescribed worked within 2 weeks. And it worked for me the whole time I took it in college.
The obvious answer here is that when I'm healthy, I can just push through and accomplish anything I need to. When I'm sick, I can't. I need to lower my expectations and stop holding myself to such impossibly high standards. But it feels like I'm giving up.
I'm really torn about this AIA thing. I desperately want the chance to make a difference in the architectural community in my city. I would love the experience of working one-on-one with some of the (local) tops in the field. I already know what project I want to work on. But is it fair to myself, to AIA, if I don't have energy to dedicate to what I need to do? Will giving up on this feel too much like giving up? So many questions, and not enough answers.
I've already streamlined a lot of my life, gotten rid of many extraneous stresses. I've gradually withdrawn other committments, postponed my licensing exam schedule so I have more time to find a good treatment plan. I've given up so much and still my body says, not enough.
The one thing I want more than anything else, is a return to some bit of normalcy in my life. Everything feels chaotic, subject to the whims of my head. Will today be a good day or bad day? Will the Migraine control everything, or can I ignore it for a while. And the underlying question: when will I break this Migraine? When will the pain stop? Will I have to live with this screwdriver in my eye socket for the rest of my life?
If I don't do this now, when will it ever happen? What if I never get better?
(Much more to write, but my head is telling me it's time to get off the computer. The story of my life.)
Be well,
MJ
It is all I can do right now to go to work for 40 hours a week, and keep up basic maintenance of my health: sleep, diet, drugs. Add to that, the supplementary health stuff: doctor's appointments, phone calls to my doctors, managing my mental health, support group (MMC forums). Then all the "normal" stuff: relationships with DBF and my family, errands, bills, money, social obligations, email, reading blogs.
It's enough to make anyone tear their hair out, especially when it seems like tearing my hair out may temporarily distract from the pain of my Migraine.
I haven't even added into that list the things I want to do: vacations, trips, dinners out with friends, volunteering. Anything that will get me off the couch and out of the apartment.
Over and over, my body tells me: NO. You cannot do this or you will pay.
Back in February, the president-elect of our local chapter of AIA (American Institute of Architects) called me up and offered me the nomination as Associate Director of the Board. This is a very prestigious position, rarely offered to someone as young as me. My responsibilities include helping to steer the direction of our local AIA for my one-year term, participating in monthly meetings as well as meetings on hot-button issues, attending frequent AIA events, representing the young contingent of the AIA, and coming up with a project to work on during my one-year term. I accepted this position without hesitation, as it offers me an opportunity I've been dreaming of. Uncontested, I was officially recognized as one of the new Directors in June, and my term starts in September.
But how on earth will I be able to do this?
I had hoped, prayed, expected, assumed that by September my health will be better. But it won't be. It isn't. I can barely squeeze out a 40-hour week most weeks. How can I work as much as I'm supposed to and put in all this volunteer time? I don't think that I can.
When I was in college, pursuing my degree in architecture, I pushed myself beyond all reasonable limits to finish studio projects, finish research papers, finish courses. I graduated on time (5 years) with a double-minor, a year abroad, and enough credits for 7 years' worth of schooling. I look at that, I look at all I achieved, and I look at now. I should be able to just push through this, I think to myself. Look at all those all-nighters in school. Look at the impossible things I accomplished. Why can't I just do that now?
Because I'm sick. Even though my health first spiraled out of control in college (third year), the Topamax my first neuro prescribed worked within 2 weeks. And it worked for me the whole time I took it in college.
The obvious answer here is that when I'm healthy, I can just push through and accomplish anything I need to. When I'm sick, I can't. I need to lower my expectations and stop holding myself to such impossibly high standards. But it feels like I'm giving up.
I'm really torn about this AIA thing. I desperately want the chance to make a difference in the architectural community in my city. I would love the experience of working one-on-one with some of the (local) tops in the field. I already know what project I want to work on. But is it fair to myself, to AIA, if I don't have energy to dedicate to what I need to do? Will giving up on this feel too much like giving up? So many questions, and not enough answers.
I've already streamlined a lot of my life, gotten rid of many extraneous stresses. I've gradually withdrawn other committments, postponed my licensing exam schedule so I have more time to find a good treatment plan. I've given up so much and still my body says, not enough.
The one thing I want more than anything else, is a return to some bit of normalcy in my life. Everything feels chaotic, subject to the whims of my head. Will today be a good day or bad day? Will the Migraine control everything, or can I ignore it for a while. And the underlying question: when will I break this Migraine? When will the pain stop? Will I have to live with this screwdriver in my eye socket for the rest of my life?
If I don't do this now, when will it ever happen? What if I never get better?
(Much more to write, but my head is telling me it's time to get off the computer. The story of my life.)
Be well,
MJ
Thursday, July 24, 2008
choices, decisions and resentment
Having such chronic migraines means, at this point in my life, I'm living with a lot of resentment.
I've talked before about the resentment I feel for my disease itself. Migraines have stolen much from me, and I resent that this disease has taken up so much space in my life. Usually I can use this resentment and anger to keep me going on my path toward getting better.
But I find other resentment in my life as well, which I don't talk about much. In the spirit of honesty and sharing with my readers, however, I'll talk about it now. And that is the resentment I feel toward other people. Before you close your browser window in disgust, please do read on.
It's not that I resent specific people. It's more that I resent (and envy) the carelessness of good health. I see it all the time, the ease with which many others live their lives, blissfully ignorant of the continual attentiveness that is chronic illness.
Most of my energy during the day goes to thinking about and coping with the little challenges I come across. I'll reference here the Spoon Theory, written by Christine Miserandino, the founder of But You Don't Look Sick?, a wonderful site for anyone with invisible illness. Anyone with chronic illness knows the very real challenge of living within your limitations, learning to conserve and use your energy (spoons) wisely. I've found that just to conserve my spoons, or to prevent spending them too quickly, in itself takes a lot of spoons.
This is something that is very difficult for people without chronic illness to understand. I don't (usually) resent them for it, but I do envy the decisions they don't have to make.
A friend of mine once described it like this:
And that is the essence of this second type of resentment. I can never "just" anything.
A perfect example: my team is having a BBQ tomorrow after work. Deciding whether or not DBF and I will go has been putting a lot of stress on me. Do I have enough spoons left from the week to do this extra activity on Friday? Will I have the energy to socialize? What will I do about food? I can't eat any of the food being served (hamburger, hot dog, veggie burger) because of my strict diet. Will I have a good time if I go? What won't I be able to do this weekend if I decide to go to the BBQ? How will this affect my work next week - will I have enough energy to make it through the full 40 hours? Questions like this have been buzzing in my head all week. There's no easy answer. I want to go, but I don't know if the cost to me will be worth it. (And I'm not even talking about the $10/person contribution to the food/beer budget.)
Most of the people on my team have not had to face these questions. If I was healthy, it would "just" be a matter of, is my schedule clear? Do I want to go? Yes + yes = go to BBQ.
.::.
Next Wednesday is my 25th birthday, the third birthday I'll have during this current bad migraine cycle. Never did I think I would be sick for so long. I'm trying not to be depressed about it. I will get to spend it with DBF, a wonderful, caring man who has been through so much with me on this confusing and difficult journey. And he's buying me ice cream cake. It's completely against my diet, but I'm not willing to skip it completely. I've had to give up so much already that I just need a slice of normalcy.
Have a good weekend, everyone.
Be well,
MJ
I've talked before about the resentment I feel for my disease itself. Migraines have stolen much from me, and I resent that this disease has taken up so much space in my life. Usually I can use this resentment and anger to keep me going on my path toward getting better.
But I find other resentment in my life as well, which I don't talk about much. In the spirit of honesty and sharing with my readers, however, I'll talk about it now. And that is the resentment I feel toward other people. Before you close your browser window in disgust, please do read on.
It's not that I resent specific people. It's more that I resent (and envy) the carelessness of good health. I see it all the time, the ease with which many others live their lives, blissfully ignorant of the continual attentiveness that is chronic illness.
Most of my energy during the day goes to thinking about and coping with the little challenges I come across. I'll reference here the Spoon Theory, written by Christine Miserandino, the founder of But You Don't Look Sick?, a wonderful site for anyone with invisible illness. Anyone with chronic illness knows the very real challenge of living within your limitations, learning to conserve and use your energy (spoons) wisely. I've found that just to conserve my spoons, or to prevent spending them too quickly, in itself takes a lot of spoons.
This is something that is very difficult for people without chronic illness to understand. I don't (usually) resent them for it, but I do envy the decisions they don't have to make.
A friend of mine once described it like this:
On choice:
Most people simply make their choices and leave the momentous decisions for things like buying a house. It sounds to me like the difference is that simple choices become decisions for you. So in that sense you don't get choices. You're forced to make decisions, and the weight of each decision carries with it a stress load quite unlike that of mere choices. And since other folks don't have that load, they really aren't likely to get how the process affects every other aspect of life. "Well, why can't you just...?" You can never "just..." anything.
And that is the essence of this second type of resentment. I can never "just" anything.
A perfect example: my team is having a BBQ tomorrow after work. Deciding whether or not DBF and I will go has been putting a lot of stress on me. Do I have enough spoons left from the week to do this extra activity on Friday? Will I have the energy to socialize? What will I do about food? I can't eat any of the food being served (hamburger, hot dog, veggie burger) because of my strict diet. Will I have a good time if I go? What won't I be able to do this weekend if I decide to go to the BBQ? How will this affect my work next week - will I have enough energy to make it through the full 40 hours? Questions like this have been buzzing in my head all week. There's no easy answer. I want to go, but I don't know if the cost to me will be worth it. (And I'm not even talking about the $10/person contribution to the food/beer budget.)
Most of the people on my team have not had to face these questions. If I was healthy, it would "just" be a matter of, is my schedule clear? Do I want to go? Yes + yes = go to BBQ.
.::.
Next Wednesday is my 25th birthday, the third birthday I'll have during this current bad migraine cycle. Never did I think I would be sick for so long. I'm trying not to be depressed about it. I will get to spend it with DBF, a wonderful, caring man who has been through so much with me on this confusing and difficult journey. And he's buying me ice cream cake. It's completely against my diet, but I'm not willing to skip it completely. I've had to give up so much already that I just need a slice of normalcy.
Have a good weekend, everyone.
Be well,
MJ
Monday, July 14, 2008
July's headache carnival is posted!
The July Headache Blog Carnival - How Spirituality Helps Us Cope with Migraine Disease - has been posted over at Diana Lee's Somebody Heal Me. Yours truly has submitted an entry, along with many other worthwhile entries I'm still working through.
Generally speaking, a blog carnival is a collection of links to a variety of a blogs on a central topic. The Headache & Migraine Disease Blog Carnival has been created to provide both headache and migraine disease patients and people who blog about headache disorders with unique opportunities to share ideas on topics of particular interest and importance to us. Visit the link to this month's carnival for a collection of informative entries on how spirituality helps us cope with migraines and headaches.
Be well,
MJ
Generally speaking, a blog carnival is a collection of links to a variety of a blogs on a central topic. The Headache & Migraine Disease Blog Carnival has been created to provide both headache and migraine disease patients and people who blog about headache disorders with unique opportunities to share ideas on topics of particular interest and importance to us. Visit the link to this month's carnival for a collection of informative entries on how spirituality helps us cope with migraines and headaches.
Be well,
MJ
Saturday, July 12, 2008
call for submissions - tell your own story
Fellow chronic illness blogger Leslie, over at Getting Closer to Myself, has put out a call for submissions.
Are you:
- A woman in your twenties or thirties who has a chronic illness, or
- A woman who is older, but was diagnosed with a chronic illness in your twenties or thirties?
- Are you either one of those and you blog about your illness?
If so, I am working on a project collecting essays from women about their experience with chronic illness. There are many books available that chronicle the story of one person. And they are great, but… I’m interested in providing women like me with a variety of stories that they can relate to. Although the diseases and symptoms may be different, the overall experience of chronic illness is very similar. I am also interested in having people tell their own stories.
These stories should be in your own words! Tell it well and tell it from the heart!!!
I know I would love to see a book like this come to fruition, so please consider sending her your story. Full details and submission requirements can be found at the original post: Getting Closer to Myself: Call For Submissions!!!
Be well,
MJ
*************************
PLEASE FORWARD
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Are you:
- A woman in your twenties or thirties who has a chronic illness, or
- A woman who is older, but was diagnosed with a chronic illness in your twenties or thirties?
- Are you either one of those and you blog about your illness?
If so, I am working on a project collecting essays from women about their experience with chronic illness. There are many books available that chronicle the story of one person. And they are great, but… I’m interested in providing women like me with a variety of stories that they can relate to. Although the diseases and symptoms may be different, the overall experience of chronic illness is very similar. I am also interested in having people tell their own stories.
These stories should be in your own words! Tell it well and tell it from the heart!!!
I know I would love to see a book like this come to fruition, so please consider sending her your story. Full details and submission requirements can be found at the original post: Getting Closer to Myself: Call For Submissions!!!
Be well,
MJ
Friday, July 11, 2008
on migraines and a path to harmony
I did not originally plan to write a post about spirituality and migraines, as my faith is erratic at best. I'll admit to you now that after reading fellow blogger Megan Oltman's entry on the subject (God Grant Me the Serenity to Accept Migraines I Cannot Change), I felt moved to write my own thoughts. (Thank you, Megs.)
I consider myself agnostic. I was raised Catholic in my family of five, though as time passed, we five Catholics became five different faiths. My father has become more Catholic as he's gotten older. He and I aren't on the best of terms, and perhaps that contributed to my ultimate rejection of Catholicism. (That isn't the subject of my post, however, so I won't detail it here.) My mother is atheist, though she often refers to the power of the "cosmos". My sister converted to Judaism; my brother is "spiritualist other". And then there's me.
My spirituality is best explained as a search for harmony within myself, and with the world around me. I live my life honestly, trying to be true to myself and to those around me. I've been drawn to yoga and now tai chi as an extension of this search for harmony, as they serve as wonderful stress relievers, as well as a way to listen to my body.
Listening to my body. Hmm. Turns out that's key to living well with migraine disease.
Like many others, I finally crossed the line from Catholic to agnostic in college. That is also the time I discovered how important it is for me to listen to my body. At times, I could (and did) override its needs. But college is also when I started yoga, and having that hour-long class each week - even though I didn't always stick with it - gave me an opportunity to hit pause and dig within myself to listen to my needs. And it also gave me a way to reach out to my environment and listen to what was going on around me, to appreciate the simple beauty in a tree or flower.
Now that my migraines have become chronic, and a singular migraine, I've found again the importance of harmony within myself. As an attempt to ease my pain, I've begun to live a much healthier lifestyle. I keep a strict diet. I sleep regular hours. I moderate my indulgences. I do a relaxation exercise every night at bed, to reset myself and to combat my chronic insomnia. And I try to do moderate exercise every week, tai chi with a DVD when I can or even just a walk in town. (Unfortunately, all of these changes have made negligible difference on my daily pain.)
More than anything else, though, I listen to my body and try my best to create harmony and balance for myself. One of the many reasons seeking harmony is important is that it lets me feel I'm doing all I can for my body - and mind - to live healthfully. If I'm living as healthfully as I can, then I can feel confident I'm doing my part in my migraine treatment.
Studying 35 mm photography in college, a hobby and love I have continued post-graduation, taught me to look at the world differently. To find beauty in unexpected places, in the curve of a path in a garden or the grit of a city. I've learned since then to find the beauty of harmony within myself, which has been an essential coping tool living with migraines.
Perhaps my flavor of spirituality is unconventional, or even offensive or silly to some. Perhaps some will see this as an opportunity to convert me; please understand I am not interested in that. I do think that the basic idea of harmony is one that many of us can embrace, especially in the context of chronic illness.
So, on the days of severe pain, when I rage at the unfairness of it, I try to slow down, breathe, and delve deeper into that part of myself that is separate from the pain. It won't make the pain go away, or easier to bear, but it does help me find a spot of peace in an otherwise turbulent world.
Be well,
MJ
I consider myself agnostic. I was raised Catholic in my family of five, though as time passed, we five Catholics became five different faiths. My father has become more Catholic as he's gotten older. He and I aren't on the best of terms, and perhaps that contributed to my ultimate rejection of Catholicism. (That isn't the subject of my post, however, so I won't detail it here.) My mother is atheist, though she often refers to the power of the "cosmos". My sister converted to Judaism; my brother is "spiritualist other". And then there's me.
My spirituality is best explained as a search for harmony within myself, and with the world around me. I live my life honestly, trying to be true to myself and to those around me. I've been drawn to yoga and now tai chi as an extension of this search for harmony, as they serve as wonderful stress relievers, as well as a way to listen to my body.
Listening to my body. Hmm. Turns out that's key to living well with migraine disease.
Like many others, I finally crossed the line from Catholic to agnostic in college. That is also the time I discovered how important it is for me to listen to my body. At times, I could (and did) override its needs. But college is also when I started yoga, and having that hour-long class each week - even though I didn't always stick with it - gave me an opportunity to hit pause and dig within myself to listen to my needs. And it also gave me a way to reach out to my environment and listen to what was going on around me, to appreciate the simple beauty in a tree or flower.
Now that my migraines have become chronic, and a singular migraine, I've found again the importance of harmony within myself. As an attempt to ease my pain, I've begun to live a much healthier lifestyle. I keep a strict diet. I sleep regular hours. I moderate my indulgences. I do a relaxation exercise every night at bed, to reset myself and to combat my chronic insomnia. And I try to do moderate exercise every week, tai chi with a DVD when I can or even just a walk in town. (Unfortunately, all of these changes have made negligible difference on my daily pain.)
More than anything else, though, I listen to my body and try my best to create harmony and balance for myself. One of the many reasons seeking harmony is important is that it lets me feel I'm doing all I can for my body - and mind - to live healthfully. If I'm living as healthfully as I can, then I can feel confident I'm doing my part in my migraine treatment.
Studying 35 mm photography in college, a hobby and love I have continued post-graduation, taught me to look at the world differently. To find beauty in unexpected places, in the curve of a path in a garden or the grit of a city. I've learned since then to find the beauty of harmony within myself, which has been an essential coping tool living with migraines.
Perhaps my flavor of spirituality is unconventional, or even offensive or silly to some. Perhaps some will see this as an opportunity to convert me; please understand I am not interested in that. I do think that the basic idea of harmony is one that many of us can embrace, especially in the context of chronic illness.
So, on the days of severe pain, when I rage at the unfairness of it, I try to slow down, breathe, and delve deeper into that part of myself that is separate from the pain. It won't make the pain go away, or easier to bear, but it does help me find a spot of peace in an otherwise turbulent world.
Be well,
MJ
Thursday, July 3, 2008
RWM is on vacation
Just a quick note: DBF and I are on vacation until July 10, so Rhymes With Migraine will return later this month. In the meantime, I invite you to check out the many great blogs on my blog roll.
Happy Fourth!
Be well,
MJ
Happy Fourth!
Be well,
MJ
Sunday, June 29, 2008
asking for help
Growing up with a mother as a therapist, I never doubted the efficacy or necessity of therapy, nor did I ever attach any sort of stigma to therapy.
Why, then, can it still be so hard to ask for help?
I've seen therapists four times in my life now. The first was over a summer while I was in college, to cope with some issues I had with my father. The second and third were during college, for much the same reason. The fourth was last summer, when I saw a counselor through my Employee Assistance Program (EAP). I had three sessions covered completely by my insurance, and needed a "boost" to get through the combination of neverending illness and the big life change of DBF moving in with me.
I have no doubt that traditional psychotherapy has helped me very much in the past. I have mild depression when my migraines are in a bad cycle, which has been particularly tenacious now that my migraines are really out of control. But I still put off calling my new EAP for a therapy referral for months.
It can be really difficult to ask for help. It's hard enough to ask DBF for help, to get me a glass of water, to make me some tea or even to come to the doctor with me. It's even harder to make a phone call to find a therapist. Is there something wrong with me, that I can't cope with this on my own?
Of course not.
Chronic illness is difficult to cope with because of its chronic nature. Chronic means, it isn't just going to go away after one treatment. It means, in my case, I will always be a migraineur. This disease is something I will always have to manage, whether with aggressive treatments and preventives, or simple relaxation techniques and acute treatment.
My particular situation has been difficult because I've had constant, daily migraine pain since sometime in November. Before that, I had daily pain from migraines or chronic daily headache. I've been in some sort of daily pain for two years now, since I first titrated off the Topamax I took all through college. Daily pain and generally feeling sick from my other migraine symptoms is enough to wear anyone down. The depression hand-in-hand with the migraines is, well, depressing.
Plus, I'm young. I'm at a time in my life when I'm establishing my career and social life. I moved to a whole new state just two years ago, where I've had to establish new ties and a new life. Balancing this with coping with chronic illness is too much for me at times.
Nothing I'm saying here I didn't know. It was still difficult for me to pick up the phone and call my EAP. But I've done it, and I feel better already. Hopefully I can get my first therapy appointment before DBF and I leave for vacation on Thursday.
Ah, yes. Vacation. DBF and I are going away for a week to our company's timeshare condo right on a lake only a few hours from here. We plan to have a relaxing week away, and since it's just the two of us, there's no pressure. The condo has a kitchen, so sticking to my restrictive diet shouldn't be too much of a problem.
So that's where I am. Therapy = good. Vacation = awesome.
Be well,
MJ
Why, then, can it still be so hard to ask for help?
I've seen therapists four times in my life now. The first was over a summer while I was in college, to cope with some issues I had with my father. The second and third were during college, for much the same reason. The fourth was last summer, when I saw a counselor through my Employee Assistance Program (EAP). I had three sessions covered completely by my insurance, and needed a "boost" to get through the combination of neverending illness and the big life change of DBF moving in with me.
I have no doubt that traditional psychotherapy has helped me very much in the past. I have mild depression when my migraines are in a bad cycle, which has been particularly tenacious now that my migraines are really out of control. But I still put off calling my new EAP for a therapy referral for months.
It can be really difficult to ask for help. It's hard enough to ask DBF for help, to get me a glass of water, to make me some tea or even to come to the doctor with me. It's even harder to make a phone call to find a therapist. Is there something wrong with me, that I can't cope with this on my own?
Of course not.
Chronic illness is difficult to cope with because of its chronic nature. Chronic means, it isn't just going to go away after one treatment. It means, in my case, I will always be a migraineur. This disease is something I will always have to manage, whether with aggressive treatments and preventives, or simple relaxation techniques and acute treatment.
My particular situation has been difficult because I've had constant, daily migraine pain since sometime in November. Before that, I had daily pain from migraines or chronic daily headache. I've been in some sort of daily pain for two years now, since I first titrated off the Topamax I took all through college. Daily pain and generally feeling sick from my other migraine symptoms is enough to wear anyone down. The depression hand-in-hand with the migraines is, well, depressing.
Plus, I'm young. I'm at a time in my life when I'm establishing my career and social life. I moved to a whole new state just two years ago, where I've had to establish new ties and a new life. Balancing this with coping with chronic illness is too much for me at times.
Nothing I'm saying here I didn't know. It was still difficult for me to pick up the phone and call my EAP. But I've done it, and I feel better already. Hopefully I can get my first therapy appointment before DBF and I leave for vacation on Thursday.
Ah, yes. Vacation. DBF and I are going away for a week to our company's timeshare condo right on a lake only a few hours from here. We plan to have a relaxing week away, and since it's just the two of us, there's no pressure. The condo has a kitchen, so sticking to my restrictive diet shouldn't be too much of a problem.
So that's where I am. Therapy = good. Vacation = awesome.
Be well,
MJ
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