My dog, too, is a victim of my migraines. He doesn’t understand, crawls into bed with me and curls into the small of my back. As I stir he perches on my pillow, puts a possessive paw on my shoulder, rests his chin on my forehead. He whines with me, not at me, doesn’t try to play, only insists on going out when he really needs to.
I wake up and it’s dark, it’s light, it’s somewhere in between and I don’t know if the sun is on its way in or out. It’s Wednesday, it’s Friday, it’s Tuesday. I’ve tried to keep track, but the days get tangled in my dreams. I’m back at College #1, in high school, or facing my elementary school tormentors. I have to go to gym to graduate, take a history test I didn’t study for, learn advanced calculus in time for the final. The migraine weaves its way into my subconscious’s story lines, and it becomes the cause or effect in each of my stress dreams. I’m driving down a highway and my auras get so bad I hallucinate or pass out and crash. I dream that I can’t wake up and I know it’s true. Even the pain itself sneaks into my dreams and my dream-self has to lay down to cope.
But the sleep is better than the awake. When the migraine won’t listen to drugs, sleep is the only thing that can kill it at last. And awake is boring. I can only read for 20, maybe 30 minutes at a time, and even then my comprehension is fuzzy. The computer gets an even shorter stretch because it is too bright. TV is out of the question. My mom calls me and her voice and worry pierce through me; she means so well, but it’s all about her and I have to fight for my independence enough on my functional days that I just can’t handle her from under the covers. I call friends but they are out living their lives and I feel so alone in the dark I cry but that makes it hurt more and my dog whines along with me as we curl up and go back to sleep and pray maybe next time I’ll wake up ok again.

documentation to stave off surrender

5 AM, headache woke me up with a new stabbing behind the eyes and eyebrows strength. Was it something I ate? My mom took me to the grocery store (she was very well-behaved...either I underestimate her or I was snippy and direct enough that it shut her up or maybe some combination of the two) and I ate a few pieces of fried chicken, a fistful of KitKats (thinking the chocolate might be a good quantity of caffeine to take the edge off without rebounding me or making me as jittery as the coffee had), and washed it down with an organic blood organic blood orange Italian soda. Was one of these a trigger? Or was it the added stress and noise and light of shopping itself? Or has it been long enough that this pain surge is unrelated> Could it even be the last kickings of the migraine? God I hope so. At an rate, I took three Aleve (I'd stopped those after the first day to make sure they weren't rebounding me) and a half-dose of the Seroquel (which I hate because it makes me all woozy and weird, but maybe a half-dose will be better and actually chop through this thing) and I'm going back to bed. I should have been documenting all of this crap (my food, my pills, my pain levels) since the beginning of this stupid thing, but how was I to know it would go on for so long? Until yesterday, I've assumed every day would most likely be the last. Now it's taking on this endless, remedyless quality and I feel like all I can do is document what I'm doing and keep changing it up and trying and re-trying everything until something works. I've been drinking a ton of water but still thirsty all the time, whatever that means, and I've lost three pounds this week, but this is not the way I want to lose weight, since it is completely unhealthy and scary and uncontrolled. If I'm still too bad to go to school tomorrow, I'll try to get a therapeutic massage appointment at Athletico. Then the DHE should be in at Walgreens, and while that may help a lot short-term, I stopped keeping it in the house because I'd gotten so addicted it became useless. In Cleveland, this would be when I'd go to the hospital clinic and get on an IV of the DHE, but dammit, I thought I'd left Cleveland in Cleveland. I haven't been this bad since. No easy answers. No silver bullets. Maybe the study will chop me open and fix things, but there have been so many "have you tried?"s and "maybe this will"s that I've finally learned, the medicine is still too far behind the cure, so I'm stuck depending on my generation's equivalent to Castor oil and witch hazel. Maybe if the DHE and massage don't help, I'll start sleeping with garlic around my neck.

One of the most frustrating things about my migraines is losing my independence. I need to go to the grocery store right now but I really can't drive myself and NBF is "busy" with his stupid crap and my mom is driving by not that far from my apartment soon so I broke down and asked her to come pick me up, take me to the grocery store, and bring me home again. But when I've had to fight so hard over the years to prove myself independent and capable to her, it makes having to ask her for help feel like defeat instead of just an inconvenience. Hopefully I'm making all that as clear as humanly possible, but it's been a long battle and I'm in too much physical pain and too drained to deal with it right now. It hurts and I'm sick of it and I'm hungry and nauseous and crying and making myself worse and explaining and rationalizing to my mother should NOT be on my list of burdens right now. I miss my friends from College Attempt #1 who were always so wonderful and helpful during my migraines. I need more people nearby who love me and understand and know how to help without stressing me out more. Stupid space-time thing. Stupid migraines. Stupid everything.

car, migraine, yap yap yap

Still in a migraine stupor. I hate this. I was going to try out for Wheel of Fortune today, but there's no way I'm going anywhere loud and crowded or acting excited about anything.

However, thing that I am excited about, even if I'm incapable of expressing it at the moment: apparently, my parents are buying me a new (well, new to me) car! I love my old Camry and thought I'd drive it until the day it died, but they called to say they came across a really good deal on a 2003 Saab somethingorother and would I like it? I'm a bit sad to say goodbye to my Camry, since that's the car that went to Key West and back in a weekend, and it's been good to me, but I know with 130,000 miles and 12 years under its belt, it's getting ready to die. And I have a sense it's going to need new breaks again soon, too, since they're starting to sound/feel funny. So new car! That's like winning on Wheel of Fortune without ever playing the game. I still would have liked to play the game...

What the hell am I talking about? The weirdest part of a migraine is how drunk/stoned I feel, like thoughts don't stay in my brain for more than about two seconds, and normal emotional reactions just don't exist. Like, I know I'm excited about new car, but I'm not feeling properly excited about it. Like, this is big fat exciting! A Saab! I really like Saabs. But I'm too numb right now to really feel it. Almost in that depression way, but without the sadness or hopelessness...or even that feeling of numb. This is more the way I don't feel things in my third arm because I don't have a third arm. I am not missing a third arm, I just don't have one.

Yeesh. The logic of Full Blown Migraine Day 3 is very odd. It doesn't help I keep getting distracted by things in my peripheral vision that aren't really moving but randomly take my attention, anyway. I wanted to write about how weird it is that my parents now have all this money. Again, not that I'm complaining. If anything, it's perfect when in my life they went from getting by to comfortable to "want a new car?" Because I grew up not spoiled but not needy. When I got too big for my clothes, we could afford to go get new clothes, but I didn't get a whole new wardrobe every season or shop at boutiques and department stores. If I wanted a new toy, it went on my Hanukah or birthday list, and big-ticket items (a new bike or a boom-box) meant that was pretty much it from my parents for the holiday. Totally comfortable, totally reasonable. But I guess what my dad is/does is pretty unique and now he's all high on the corporate ladder and I get calls like "Do you want a new car?"

Think they can buy me a new brain?

I hope this makes sense.

Something smells funny and I can't tell if it's real or in my head or some combination.

Anybody (HDS, I'm looking at you) know a shit-ton about C. S. Lewis? I have a presentation on Thursday.

Blah blah blah blah. This is a clear case of "those who speak do not know," or at least "the less my brain is functioning, the more I write."

Sound familiar?

From the New York Times

So your friend/family member/loved one has a migraine: a surprisingly simple guide

• Step 1: Shut the fuck up
• Step 2: Get the fuck out of the way

If you are particularly inclined towards helpfulness, the following are nice things to do, but should NEVER interfere with your shutting up or staying out of the way. Not even to let the migraine sufferer know you have done them. And don't expect visible gratitude, since that may be beyond the migraine sufferer's current capacity. Think: sacrifices to an angry volcano.

• 1) Feed/walk the pets/children. Otherwise, it just won’t happen.
• 2) Make sure easily digestible food is available. Do not ask if the afflicted is hungry, because that is a stupid fucking question. Migraines tend to kill appetite and frequently come with nausea. When the migraine sufferer’s hunger is greater than his/her general discomfort, s/he will emerge on his/her own. Think: hibernating grizzly bear. During these moments of necessary eating, rice cakes and chicken (heavy on rosemary, light on garlic, onion, or anything else with an unpleasant aftertaste) are good.
• 3) Refill empty prescriptions. Even the ones from your ex-roommates’ oral surgery. After 17 hours in a half-awake pained stupor, three expired Vicodin can really hit the spot.

killmaimdestroymiseryouchyouchyouchystupideffingheadouchydeathdarkpainouch

dislikes

I hate mushrooms.

The cute boy from my wellness class Facebook-friended me, which was very exciting until I read his profile. Apparently, he doesn't like books or vaginas. Sigh.

Bruuuuuuuuce!

Went to the Springsteen concert with my dad (birthday present from me) tonight. The band was great and energetic. It was loud and it was fun, and in the bathroom I overheard "He's still really good-looking!" The only black people there (besides Clarence Clemons) were working for the United Center, and "Wrigley Field!" got a bigger cheer than "The Bill of Rights!" during the requisite between song audience pandering. When did all the baby boomers go bust? My generation had nothing to stand for or rebel against, but come on, 50-somethings! You used to dance and scream! Now you're relieved at a single encore because it's late and you have work in the morning. I'm disappointed in you. The band had tons of energy and played a great show, and my dad was very happy, so I will call the night a success anyway.

My writing brain is dead. Too much writing for school stuff. Can't make blog sound like I want it to sound. Blaaaaaah.

powerless

The power went out in my apartment and for a good number of blocks around my apartment. Fortunately, power is on at NBF's, so I am there now trying to get work done while his dog eats my face.

like burning

I'm interviewing Important Family Guy Person on Monday for my freelance class. He's being great about it, and the interview itself should not be hard. Thing that is hard: rigging my tape recorder to record a conversation on my cell phone. The thing that connects the recorder to the phone was $25 and only available at Radio Shack, and now it turns out I need another piece to connect it to my phone because my phone doesn't have a normal headset plug thing. That's another $20. I feel like if I had basic magical powers, none of this would be a problem. I would also like very much to be able to instantly teleport places, because my hour commute to school is getting annoying, even if I'm only doing it three days a week.
Other reasons to teleport:

• trying to find a "good" shoe store for NBF today and driving all over creation looking for one
• friends living in other time zones

A few weeks ago in my wellness class my teacher brought in this thing to measure our body fat percentages so we could calculate our body's needed caloric intake. I'm 30% body fat. That's the cutoff between average and overweight. Fuck. I'm fat. I'm still trying to get my mom's old Nordic Track up and running, since one of the pins doesn't fit where I need it to go so the cushiony things aren't up too high, and when I used it anyway, it tried to kill me by sending my flying. I also bought a scale that measures my body fat and hydration levels for under $9 at Target. I think the price was a mistake, since it was the only one of its kind and the models with fewer features cost more and the comparable scales were in the $25-$45 range. I win. Now I can obsess about my weight fat percentage at home! I'm 109 lbs. I don't want to go back to my scary 90 lb days, but something a bit healthier would be nice. Particularly if I can keep my boobs. Hear that, body? Less fat, same boobs. Deal.

Ooh, why is there a firetruck outside my apartment? Yoohoo! Firemen!
I'm starting the Firemen Appreciation Society. We will wear white flowing chemises and robes and hang out windows until firemen "rescue" us, and then we will "appreciate" them. Who's with me?

broken head, broken heart?

Do I want to take part in a medical trial that may or may not help my migraines? It involves surgery where they poke at my heart. I pre-qualified on their internet thing, and then a woman from the trial just called me and it sounds like I'm a perfect candidate. As she went down the list of "have you tried" even she sounded surprised that I was a "yes" to all of them...beta blockers, anti-seizure meds, botox. I may not even have the hole in my heart, and even if I do I can decide then not to have the surgery to close it up. Honestly, my biggest ambivalence about the whole thing is that there's a 1 in 3 chance that I will be a control patient and go through the surgery but then they will just sew me back up again the way I began. But even then, if the trial shows that closing up the hole does in fact help the migraines, they will offer me the procedure again for real. That would mean TWO elective surgeries. How do I feel about that? Now would be the time to do it, though, while I'm still in school and not clutching to a real job. I don't know. I don't have to decide right away, but it's something to seriously think about. And wouldn't it be amazing if it got rid of my migraines? The rest of my life, like a normal person!* Imagine that!

*Yes, I know, I will never be "normal." You are just. so. funny.

Famous? Anyone?

Do you know anyone famous and/or interesting? I'm supposed to write a Q & A for my freelance class by Thursday. Suggestions? Connections? Anyone?

big fat behind

After the trojan debacle, I downloaded Mozilla. I kind of like it.

I'm completely caught up in two of my classes now. I wanted to be completely caught up in all of my classes by the time I went to bed tonight, but that's not happening. I've written a shit-ton, but there is just so much to do. My migraine memoir draft is still beyond drafty, I have only 9 of 12 instances about computers, 0/9 instances about my phone sex stuff, no in-depth journal entry about Black Boy, and I still have to type up the things I wrote in tutoring and a a quick journal entry about my strengths and weaknesses as a writer.
So if you want to do any of that for me, let me know.

sittings

Last night I saw a very odd 3 1/2 hour play with my parents at the Goodman Theater. Parts were wonderful, parts were stupid. Kind of like my parents.

I woke up early to try to get some work done, but instead spent several hours battling some nasty-ass trojan buggy thing that decided to attach itself to my computer and ignore my multiple virus and spyware busters.

Then it took me an hour on the Edens to get to the Botanical Gardens/Ravinia area from my apartment in Rogers Park and another 20 minutes after that to arrive at Lake Forest College's soccer field.

Then I watched my brother play part of a game with his college soccer team against Lake Forest. He's been too injured/gimpy to play much or particularly well, but he did manage to score goals the last few games. Not this game, but his school won during their second overtime. Very exciting.

As I drove out of Lake Forest and towards 41, I noticed a cop behind me. It was a big street, two lanes in either direction and very little entering or exiting traffic, so I was going around 45-50mph. Then the cop pulled me over and I assumed I had a tail light out but no, apparently the speed limit on that large fast street is actually 35. He was very nice and even apologized that he had to give me a ticket, but there was some mandatory ticketing thing for anything more than 10 mph over the speed limit. Piece of shit. So now I've gotten my first ticket in almost 7 years and if I want it off my record I have to do some 4 hour online traffic school thing, which is obviously what I need right now on top of the rest of the time I'm stuck at my computer every day and going crazy.

Now I am sleepy and farty because I decided to treat myself to McDonalds fries (I was going for just coffee and didn't see a Dunkin Donuts and felt after a ticket I needed a treat). There are a number of friends I haven't seen in way too long and I would very much like to see, but I don't know when because I'm not caught up yet. It is my goal to be completely on top of everything by the time I go to bed tomorrow, and it's possible but difficult, so we'll see.

I'm such a kvetch.

WTF

Let's play a game. I call it "Why am I having an anxiety attack?" Ready?
Why am I having an anxiety attack?
I'm PMSed and somewhat stressed, but that really shouldn't do it. Stupid body. Stupid brain. Stupid Annabell.

Miss Management?

I organized all of my bathroom stuff (toiletries, drugs, make-up) and cleaned the sink. It turns out the sink fixtures are a golden brassy color. Never would have guessed under all that rust and tarnish and weird layer of what I'm guessing was Comet residue. My building manager is supposed to show up tomorrow morning to finish the shit that didn't get finished before I moved into the apartment. I have a list, numbered more or less in order of personal priority. It's amazing how good I am at micro-organizing and managing certain things, considering it's after midnight and I haven't come close to finishing things that are due and past-due for school tomorrow.

Taming of the Shrew*

My mom was trying to park her car while my dad and I gave nagging unhelpful advice.
"You know," she said, "I'm actually a good driver, and it gets harder to park the more you say things, because it makes me anxious and unsure of myself."
"Amazing how that applies to so much of life!" I said.
She was also bitching a lot because we had brunch with her oldest brother and he still acts like her oldest brother and she doesn't feel respected as competent. Again I used the opportunity to point out how no matter how grown up and competent she is, he will still view her as his little sister, just like they (my parents) still view me as their baby and treat me as incompetent, and that it is very hard for the person who is trying to prove herself a grown-up.
I very much hope these things sunk in, since frequently it takes a person experiencing something themselves to understand the plight of others, provided they are capable of internalizing the connection. At least I have ammunition next time she starts treating me like a naughty child.


*Not that I'm calling my mother a shrew...

unstalkable

I get annoyed when I want to stalk someone online and they are not easy to find. How am I supposed to know Cute Boy from my wellness class's life story without talking to him? Yeesh.

Worth It

I just took my dog on a walk down the two block stretch of beach at the end of my street. I now do this several times a day, except the occasional instance when there are already a few leashless dogs down there playing. The sun is shining and the water is rippling just enough to make it sparkle. There wasn't a single other being out. My dog sniffed things and jogged around me and at a perfect 70 degrees out I decided to stick my feet into the water, just because I could.

I'm a bit behind on my school work, thanks to the move and my migraines. I'm trying to catch up, and I will catch up, but right now I'm having a bit of trouble finishing things and prioritizing. Poop.

Then Hot Dog Sam called. I'm glad she exists. After all, how crazy can I be if there's another person who thinks and feels the same things I think and feel? We're a two person support group.

I am completely out of my old apartment! Yay! Dropped off the keys and everything. Now to begin the terrifying process of turning my piles of shit into a neat, orderly home to which I can unashamedly invite people.

Word of the week: snarky. Snark snark snark.