Woohoo!

Just sold my first thing on Etsy! Now I have to go buy ink to print it up and envelopes big enough for it to fit. Weeeeeee!

boys and sleep and un-sleep

I seem to be drawn to Boys I find annoying because they are similar to me in ways I don't like but they're physically attractive so not only is it forgivable that they are annoying but also I want to jump them a little bit.

Stupid boys.

Also, today I tried not taking any drugs (besides the Effexor, of course) and I spent the day quite nauseous and came close to throwing up a number of times but never did and I slept pretty much until 4:30 PM with a brief forced awakeness a la dog and hunger. Now it is almost 6 AM and I'm in a bit of a manic state and still terribly nauseous but poking around on the etsy forums is somehow more attractive than sleep where I have hours of crazy vivid dreams.

I wonder what it is like to go through life without such a fussy body.

like a prayer

Tonight, my father, the agnostic doctor, told me he's praying for me. When did I become something to be prayed for? And when did he start praying?

While I've lost all faith in the present knowledge of modern medicine and never really had any in a misaligned qi, prayer never even occurred to me. Even as I was reading all the C. S. Lewis Christian apologetica, Religion seemed less real than Narnia. Prayer gets filed away alongside witchcraft, superstition, The Secret and unbalanced gall bladder qi. My migraines are what's real and immediate, and even with this unending bout that feels like forever, my pain has boundaries and practical consequences and if not solutions, at least ways of maintaining myself and my life. Prayer seems so hopeless, like a declaration of giving up; which is funny considering how narcissistic it seems, having this idea that a cosmic being needs only your reminder to fix what ails you. I do have a sense of some greater, divine order to things. It's not so concrete as to call it a belief, but right now my faith and spirituality are much more concentrated on flowing through and beyond this thing. Migraines are on the list of things we silly humans haven't figured out yet, and until we do (hopefully but not expectedly in my lifetime), I have to make the most of this portion of my existence. I'll take my good hours and do things that make me feel happy and productive. I'll continue seeing doctors and witchdoctors alike. I'll try to take care of myself and my dog and the embers of my long-term ambitions as long as we three require tending. And hopefully, Spaghetti Monster willing, this will end.

thankfully home

Sunday I was feeling much better. My parents came and we went to brunch and I ordered a frittata containing spinach on purpose. We went grocery shopping and my mom tried putting things away in my kitchen because she doesn't like having things out or that I still have things in boxes. I prefer it that way for now because I only use the dishes I need and they don't pile up, plus having some of my food things on the counter makes it so I know what I have without having to dig through my deep cupboards. The eternal battle continues. We then tried to jump my car and failed, so my parents called their auto club and the guy came and got it going but said the starter was shot so we should get it to where it could stay until we had it towed and fixed. Since I am getting New Car as soon as I am physically capable of going and dealing with the license plates, we figured it made the most sense to drive my car back to my parents' house and I'd get the New Car Tuesdayish. Lots of driving and a chili cheese dog from Gold Coast Dogs later, I was dropped back at my apartment sans car.

Monday I woke up dead. Tuesday, too. Dead dead dead. Wednesday I still felt like crap but the original plan was that I would drive to my parents' Wednesday night to see my siblings (returning from LA and college in Iowa) and help with Thanksgiving prep. Instead, my mom picked up my corpse and my dog on the way back from getting my sister from the airport.

Wednesday night through yesterday is a blur of pain and my mom's leftover hydrocodone and noise and people and my brother's massage chair. For Thanksgiving itself I drugged the living hell out of myself (hydrocodone and Aleve at maximum doses) so I could be social and enjoy the food. I apparently did very well, though mostly I remember staring at my cousin-in-law's very shiny diamond rings (and I always thought the shiny stoner thing was a joke!) and rattling off things I was thankful for every time the general conversation got too far into the gutter. I think I was the only person to do the "I'm thankful for..." thing at all.

The best thing about all those days at my parents' house was how happy it made my dog. He got spoiled like crazy between my dad and my sister, and even my mom fed him bits of leftovers when she felt too bad staring at his "orphan eyes." He got to run around in the yard whenever he felt like it, and by day 3 didn't even try to wake me, going instead to scratch at my parents' door until someone came and let him out. He even started snuggling with my dad after over three years of my dad trying to win his affection.
My brother's massage chair was also excellent. I spent at least 3 hours in it over the four days, digging through my unbelievably tight shoulder and neck muscle knots. I really want to steal it from him, but he spent his bar mitzvah money on it, so that wouldn't be fair. My parents are talking about getting me my own, anyway, I just have to try out the different models to figure out which would be the most helpful.

I wish my parents' house didn't stress me out quite so much, because it would be an easy and obvious solution to Incapacitated Annabell. But it never gets completely quiet and the concerned looks on my parents faces tend to worry me more than my own afflictions, and not even a massage chair is better than good sleep in the dark and quiet. I feel bad for my dog, but otherwise it's good to be back in my own hole, listening to free audiobooks (LibriVox is awesome and brilliant and you should check it out) and working on things I can try to sell on etsy.com (my username is my real name equivalent to AnnabellJo, as in FirstnameMiddlename). This is my new life.

Me and my thick cortex

From BBC: Migraine Brains 'are different'

Dammit, head, can't you let me have some peace? Plus PMS. So much for salvaging my prose forms class. Piece of crap. Crap crap crap.

dancing, eating, watching, listening, and knitting

The "Take Me Out Right Now" dance looks very similar to the "I want you to pay attention to me for the next 30 seconds and then I'm going back onto your bed" dance. Very annoying when I stop what I'm doing, thinking my dog is dancing the former, only to discover, no, it was the latter.

Last night around 9:30 PM I was craving Indian food like a crazy woman. Last night around 10:30 I paid $23 by check to the delivery guy for chicken korma and and order of naan. It took more research than it should have to find Indian Gourmet, which says right on its website that they are "Greater Chicagoland's only Indian restaurant that delivers." I wasn't thrilled with the apparent price-gouging or the fact that they didn't take credit cards (I had roughly $12 in cash in my apartment), but I needed my fix. Turns out, for $23, I will be able to eat for the rest of my life. It wasn't until my third rice and korma bowlful this afternoon that a dent finally appeared in the vats of food. And it's really good! I got the korma because the acupuncturist told me not to eat spicy foods, and with no butter chicken on the menu, it was the only dish that said "very mildly spicy." As a person who normally likes spicy food, this had enough flavor that I didn't miss the kick. The rice had whole bay leaves and some other whole herb that I recognize by taste and smell but still can't place. And the naan tastes like flat challah. All-in-all, it was the best $23 I've spent on food in a long time.

Since last night, I've watched three movies and listened to an hour and a half of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe via iPod audiobook. During those bits of audio-visual entertainment, I knitted an uneven pair fingerless gloves for myself. I have been coveting fingerless gloves ever since I first saw Birdie wearing great ones in some of her pictures of Facebook. I would have just bought myself a pair somewhere (they're not that expensive and I can excuse the purchase as functional), but my stupid wool allergy made it impossible to find any that were both comfortable and attractive. The ones I knit aren't great, but they will do and they don't clash with my nice coat.

I should do more audiobook listening while crafting. It's even better than TV or movies because I don't have to look up.

colorblind taste test

If you don't give a shit about dogs in general or my dog or dog food in particular, just skip reading this post.

Towards the begnning of my Doggymamahood, I bought small bags of five different cheap to mid-priced dog foods. I put each in a bowl and set each of the five bowls down on my kitchen floor. My dog clearly went for the Beneful, so ever since then I got him Beneful.
Then we started going over to NBF's house, and my dog would eat NBF's dog's food like I'd been starving him at home. And there is always food in his bowl at home because he eats like a cat (whatever and whenever he feels like it, but he never eats that much). So I found out what NBF's dog was eating and we, too, began buying grocery store top-shelf Purina One Natural Blends Chicken and Oatmeal Formula.
Just a few weeks ago, when I was dying with the first terrible week of this fucking migraine, I made NBF drive me to Walgreens for my prescriptions, some Draino, and dog food. The only brand they had was Best Friends Gourmet Dog Food, so for a week my dog ate Best Friends Gourmet Dog Food.
Then my mom came out and took me grocery shopping. They only had a fairly small bag of the Purina One Natural Blends Chicken and Oatmeal, so my mom, looking to see if they had a big bag elsewhere, came across the Purina One Total Nutrition Chicken and Rice and said she'd found it. Even in the small bag the Total Nutrition was significantly cheaper, and my head wasn't working and my mom was trying to work out the math and logic and we ended up with one bag of the Natural Blends and one bag of Total Nutrition, the idea being that I'd see if my dog liked the regular anywhere near as much as the natural.
Tonight, I did the official taste test. Three equal-sized piles of each of the three foods (Best Friends Gourmet - Beef, Purina One Natural Blends Chicken and Oatmeal, and Purina One Total Nutrition Chicken and Rice) right next to each other so he couldn't just happen upon one first.
Not only did he eat all of the Total Nutrition first, he then picked through and ate out the few pieces of Total Nutrition that had gotten into the Natural Blends pile. Then he snubbed the other two piles completely and stared at me with that "Want more! Feed me!" face. I took another fistful of the Total Nutrition and mixed it in with the other two piles, and again he stared picking through the other two foods to find the pieces of the Total Nutrition. I think we have our new winner.

Shallower than I thought

If I was already fooling around with a guy and discovered he was wearing one of the brighter colors of these overpriced but truly fabulous Man Panties, he would totally get farther than I originally intended. In fact, Kelley Green or Gold would pretty much guarantee him my virginity.

I'm going to class very soon for the first time in three weeks! This is why I'm even loopier than usual.

dizzy blondes, dead printers, and crafty websites

Happy Super Dizzy Day! No pain, but dear lord it is hard to get around when the room moves. And I didn't puke, but I thought I was going to puke on several occasions. Whether or not it is true, I am saying that this is my migraine's final tantrum on its way out. Post-migraine aura and crap. It's entirely possible, so please god let it be so!

I finally managed to kill my HP deskjet 3520 printer. It was four years old and originally cost $28. It moved three times, fell countless times, and printed many a paper and greeting card. It will be missed.

I just sorted a bunch of my crafting stuff from the mostly untouched (as in I've barely touched these particular boxes, not as in most of the boxes are still untouched) moving boxes. My inspiration: Etsy.com. I am in love with this website. (HDS, you'd best know about it already, because you will love it.) I want to buy everything for everyone from it and sell my random crafting crap on it. It has kept me occupied during the last week of conscious-but-dysfunctioning.

Here are some personal favorite items (because if you are reading my blog, you must be wasting time, and oh so much more time can be wasted on Etsy!):
Zombie Escape Plan Journal
overpriced but very attractive serving dish
cute turkey apron I want my mom to wear on Thanksgiving but I don't think she'll go for it
"Perfect Children" moderately disturbing stuffed animals
super-disturbing anatomical teapot
awesome color search page

boiled down conversation/fight with my mother

My mom: Right now, in regards to your migraines and your life, you should be doing A, B, and C.
Me: Why do you always assume you have to tell me what I should be doing and not that I'm already doing it?
Mom: Because you're not doing it.
Me: Yes I am.
Mom: Then why didn't you tell me you were doing it.
Me: Because I shouldn't always have to tell you that I'm doing it. The assumption should be that I am doing it.
Mom: But I need to hear it to believe it.
Me: So basically I need you to have faith in me and you need me to constantly tell you that your faith is deserved (never mind the better part of my 25 years having been spent proving it)?
Mom: Yes. Exactly.

And the moral of the story is: my mom thinking that I'm incompetent has nothing to do with my actual competence, but it definitely feeds into my own issues of failure. Yippee fucking skippee.

Sweet, Sweet Potato

I've been asleep for the last two days. Splendid. Maybe I'm weakened from two weeks of being dead. I don't know. Also, I am out of the Percocets and the head is less than comfortable (though not nearly as horrible as it's been). I need to get my ass to a doctor, which is much more difficult than it should be.

Whine whine whine.

My dog puked what looked like mashed sweet potatoes on my bed last night. I cleaned it up and went back to sleep.

I know three pregnant people right now, and they are all due in March. Strange. I've decided two of them should become internet BFFs, since they have some strange similarities anyway and I know if I'm ever preggers I will want other pregger people friends, which can be hard to come by if your regular people friends are not baby-making with you.

And I want a live-in chef and house cleaner, but I think I've mentioned that before.

Can I lie and say I'm stoned right now to excuse the random oddness of this post?

a weekend of fun and much-betterness

Birdie and her sister (Batty? jury's still out on codenaming her, but I think she might appreciate that one) came and went and fun was had despite Birdie's being throat diseased and me battling what I can only hope are the last little sputterings of this motherfuckingmigraine. Batty(?) brought me Percocets, which helped immensely. I guess regular codeine didn't do the trick but oxycodone is enough different/stronger to make a difference. I was out! I was free! I was me again! Yaaaaaay!
We ate soup at the Soup Box (I love that place and it made sense for Birdie) and then stopped by SUC's sushi restaurant but were too full of soup to eat there so he and Ex-Boss Lady joined us for drinks (Birdie and I didn't drink due to our respective ailments, but still) and I hadn't seen them in forever and I forgot how much I like SUC. Then NBF went to bed and we womenfolk went to see Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind (30 plays in 60 minutes), which I went to a bunch when I was 18 and hadn't since. It was very fun and good and they only made it through 27 3/4 of the plays. We went to the Museum of Contemporary Art and I'd forgotten to take my Effexor and then there were bright spirals and flashing lights and all my pre-migraine shit went crazy and I ended up hanging out in the park across the street where it was cool and quieter. Drugs (both illicit and licit) and a 45 minute nap fixed that before dinner. NBF turned 29 and my cousinses and Batty and NBF's high school friend and her husband joined us and we ate delicious Indian food. Then (sans-cousinses) we went to Green Mill for the last set of a group that would have been better without the flute. Then today was low-key and we took a delicious group nap and my car is inexplicably dead and I no longer have motor club (apparently the kick you out of your parents' account when you turn 25 and I just found that out in the last month and I haven't done anything about it yet) and my awesome last year's Hannukah present internal cigarette lighter jumper thing doesn't come pre-charged and I didn't know this until we opened it up and tried to use it. Moral of the story: Birdie and Batty had to take a cab to the airport because otherwise it takes a good hour and a half by public transportation and they didn't have time. Blech. I passed out again on NBF's bed while he worked on his paper, we ate leftover Indian food, and I waddled home after 5 and fell back asleep by 6. My dog, having not been out since around 10 this morning, woke me at midnight (I think he was entitled) and we walked up and down the block once and then I wrote this and now I go back to bed. I'm thinking/hoping tomorrow I will be able to go back to school, which will be super-fun trying to figure out what of the semester is still salvagable and exactly what I need to do to save it. Still, better than the migraine. Death to migraine. Love to Birdie. Back to sleeeeep now.

a revised life plan

I'm spending the rest of my life stoned. At least until the migraine goes away. It makes things significantly more tolerable, particularly if I don't get as stoned as I did in that other post. Stoned to the point that best balances between incapacitated by pain and incapacitated by pot. Birdie is coming this weekend and I have to find some way to be capable of enjoying it, since I've been really really really looking forward to it and now I'm terrified I'll miss it completely, cooped up in my apartment/cave. Stoned it is.

acupunctuation

Yesterday, I had my acu punctured. I left feeling pretty good (although still with the pain hanging out behind my left eye) and felt like crap again by the time I got home.
The experience itself was very strange. When I arrived they offered me tea while I filled out their version of a medical history form. I chose a peppermint herbal (I think they were all herbal) and answered the standard doctor questions about my immediate family's medical history (did/does anyone have diabetes? hear disease? cancer?) plus some new ones (gout? insanity?) and some extremely personal questions about my bodily functions (how many days do your periods last? is the blood ever brown? dark purple? clumpy?)
My acupuncturist was this small (well, bigger than me, but small by normal standards) Chinese woman who was like a dense tight ball of energy on fast-forward. Her English wasn't great, but she explained to me that I have both an overall deficiency in qi but an overabundance of qi in some areas, and most of my problem areas are linked to my gall bladder. I need to eat a pound and a half of fruits and vegetables (she didn't specify how often and I didn't ask because odds are good I can maybe up my veggie intake to a pound and a half a month) and avoid spicy foods because my central energy fire is too hot and rising up and that's why I have all the pain in my neck and head. Right. I don't know about the whole energy fire thing, but it doesn't hurt to avoid spicy foods and see if that helps, since that's one thing I haven't tried diet-wise.*
As I've mentioned before, I hate needles. Hate hate hate. And it's not the pain, since a needle bothers me as much in someone else's skin as it does my own. It's the cutting of skin thing that generally wigs me out. But the acupuncturist didn't put any needles in my head ("not for first time, next time") and my glasses were off so I couldn't see it, and she also said "breathe in, breathe out" every time she poked me. The strangest part of the whole experience was when some of the needles hit, it felt like things were moving around in other parts of my body. A needle on my calf (I think it was my calf) had something crawling up the left side of my spine. And the one needle that hurt the most (the others were a pinch at the worst) had my migraine pain, which was at that point hanging out in a lump at the bottom of the back of my head, unmistakably float up to the top of my head, like it had been filled with helium. Unfortunately, it stayed at the top of my head instead of going the fuck away. My acupuncturist said that, for a life-long problem, it will take more than one session of acupuncture to fully realign my qi.
She also did "cupping," which is completely bizarre but actually feels good. Basically, she stuck a bunch of 2" diameter glass suction cup things on my back.
I left feeling better than I had in weeks (save my stoned hours), but still with the pain. So, (sorry E) $40, I now have more pot. I really don't enjoy the inhaling smoke part, but it makes the pain more bearable. I woke up this morning wondering if I could even make it to class, but by 10:30 AM I was back to walloped, and now I've got the damn vibrating neck thing back on and the lights back off and I'm bored and sick of sleeping through my life but it fucking hurts. And the last few days the pain has been more and more light-sensitive and behind my left eye. Maybe I'll start wearing an eyepatch. I'll dress like a pirate while I'm at it, just for kicks. I could use some kicks. In the head.

*I am much better at eliminating things I shouldn't do than adding things I should. Maybe my willpower-qi is lopsided, too.

Things I have tried

This is so that when you, my wonderful helpful reader, hear about some new miraculous wonderful migraine treatment, you will know in advance if I have already tried it.

• Ear, nose and throat doctor (back when I didn't recognize the auras as migraine and thought I just had lots of "dizzy spells)
• Dizzy test (again, back in the "dizzy spell" era)
• MRI (to make sure there wasn't anything lodged in my brain...if you're nice to me I'll show you the creepy eyeball/brain picture that I got to keep)
• Lots of time with the neurologist and his med student lackies at the Cleveland Clinic's headache clinic
• Over-the-counter analgesics (Aspirin, Tylenol, etc.)
• Anaprox (prescription-strength Aleve)
  
• Triptans (Imitrix, Maxalt, Relpax)
• Caffeine (my friend, my foe)
• Codeine
  
• Ergotamines (the DHE I had to inject into my tummy flab and the Migranal nasal spray that's $45 a dose)
• Anticonvulsants (Depakote, which is a cousin of Topamax)
• Antipsychotics (Seroquel, Zyprexa)
• Antidepressants (Effexor XR)
• Antinausea drug (Reglan)
• Sketchy European muscle relaxants (left over from my nasty migraine bout in Vienna in 2002)
  
• Botox injections in my neck (I think this was helpful, but my current insurance is crap and it's over $1000 and has to be repeated every few months and not many doctors do it)
  
• Riboflavin (vitamin B2)
• Feverfew (some other herbal thing)
• Magnesium (more vitamin crap)
• Beta blockers (Nadalol...very bad for me with my low blood pressure and natural tendency towards depression)
• Allergy testing
• Elimination diet (HDS may remember this one, as I tried to avoid all wheat products at camp and ate crappy rice bar things a lot)
• yoga (ok, I went twice, but I didn't really like it)
• Peace of Mind (Origins aromatherapy product I use a lot)
• Head On (applied directly to the forehead, it's soothing but a weird consistency...I still use it occassionally)
• Wellpatch Migraine (ooh, maybe I'll go put one of those on before bed)
• Walgreens Ultra Strength Muscle Rub
  
• marijuana (the most recent new "cure")

Tomorrow, I'm hoping to add "acupuncture" and/or other "oriental healing arts" to the list. In the next few months, we'll find out if chopping me open and poking my heart might be useful as well.

I may have left something off the list, but that should give you some idea.

separation anxiety

Thought on abortion:
Assuming your pregnancy goes to full term, that child will never consider you (the parent) to be a "real person;" why should you consider it a "real person" before it even escapes from the womb?

And for those of you who've been counting, this is Day 12 of the Migraine from Hell. It lapsed for a little while yesterday, and that was great, but it was back full force by dinner. I'm trying to use my more lucid moments to research a good local acupressurist. They can stab me all they want. Maybe sticking me at the ledge of a high cliff and slicing chunks of my skin will help, too. I'm game for anything.

I had to tell my mother again in no uncertain terms to leave me alone and I will let her know if I want or need her for anything. It is understandable that she sees her offspring in pain and wants to help, but she can't seem to internalize that when she leaves me two voicemails and a text message letting me know she's "available to help this afternoon or tomorrow after 4," that does not constitute leaving me alone and makes things worse because then I have to get back to her again to tell her, "No, thank you, leave me alone," and that is very stressful when my moments of lucidity are precious and I want to spend them distracting myself and trying to feel better, not assuring my mother that things will eventually be ok and she needs to just shut the fuck up and leave me alone.

mediocre vibrations

I want a device that will massage my neck for me with minimal effort on my part. Why are all "massagers" really built as vibrators and consequently not particularly useful for my neck muscles? My neck is not shaped like a vagina, it is shaped like a neck. If I wanted a vibrator, I would buy a vibrator. I ended up getting this thing for $20 at Target, and it's ok, but not great. I want something that will kneed my neck and shoulder muscles. A boyfriend would also work, but those are even harder to come by and require a bit more maintenance.

And to the anonymous suggestion that I try acupuncture: I absolutely hate needles, but I'm getting to the point where I'd be willing to try it. Particularly if this latest trend of feeling better doesn't continue, they can stab me with knives for all I care.

Rxxx

Last night, still in pain, I took the full dose of Seroquel*, which I normally avoid because it makes me so groggy, but I figured I was going to bed so it didn't matter and maybe I'd sleep through the night. Dog woke me before 7 AM needing to go out, so I managed to take him out and then took the next dose of the Seroquel. Dog woke me again around 2 or 3 needing to go back out, so out we went very quickly and then I ate things and went back to sleep. I had terrible dreams about people sabotaging the CTA el trains and knocking them off the tracks and pushing them off over the highway and stuff. Then the dog managed to wake me up again a little before 10 PM and I could barely get my body to move but we went out and I discovered NBF had been trying to reach me all day (I guess I talked to him briefly a few times so he knew I wasn't dead but was very much asleep...any of you who have talked to Sleeping Annabell knows what this is like) and I'm still all groggy but I have the sense the migraine is finally fighting for its life so I took another dose of Seroquel and we'll see how and when I wake up next.

*Regularly prescribed for bipolar and schizophrenia, but for those you start with a 25 mg dose twice a day and gradually build up, taking it regularly, whereas Dr. Migraine has me taking a 50 mg dose, followed any time after 2 hours later by another 50 mg dose, and stopping as soon as the headache quits. For those of you concerned by my marijuana trial, that seems much safer to me than the Seroquel, but I'm thinking it may be time for a back-alley labotomy, which would make any and all prior brain damage pretty much moot.

no silver (or green) bullets

Nope. Extremely disappointed to announce, marijuana is NOT the cure for my migraines. The migraine came back, and there were a few hours today that I couldn't tell if I was still unable to think because of the pot or because of the migraine. Losing each thought as soon as I have it seems to be a symptom of both having a migraine and being stoned.

So my next brilliant idea was to go get a massage. My mother and brother have both gone to physical therapy at this Chicago chain and my mom had mentioned before that they do therapeutic massage, so I went for a therapeutic massage. The guy was kind of odd and very high-strung for a massage therapist, but he was good at the massage part. He didn't get rid of the muscle knots or the migraine, but he loosened things and the migraine was not an issue so long as I was laying in the dark silence being worked on. I just need a full-time live-in masseuse, or maybe to go back (or elsewhere) in a few days and tell them to just get rid of the fucking knots. I don't know. I'm out of ideas again. And I'm bored and lonely, because I can't do anything.

My mom called me this afternoon to see how I was doing and started in on "you should call your doctor and see if you can get in right away" and I snapped at her because it's pretty fucking clear to me at this point that modern medicine hasn't figured migraines out yet and I've tried pretty much everything there is to try and I'm even subjecting myself to guinea pighood and the last thing I want to hear right now is what else I "should" be doing, particularly from a person who is neither an expert nor experiencing it herself, and worst of all is my mother. She was on IM later so I apologized for snapping at her and she actually said (without sarcasm) "Sorry I tried to help! I know I should just tell you I love you and hang up." So I guess she understands and is learning, and that is good.

Remembering and communicating every detail of my life seems to be my main compulsion and driving force. I realized this while stoned. The fact that I couldn't express what I was thinking verbally or in writing was making me nuts. Also, I became aware of my constant judging and rejudging of every thought I have for accuracy, allowability, and admitability. It's pretty crazy and exhausting. I imagine not everyone's brain works this way, and I wonder if I can learn to quiet mine down. Obvious solution: drown myself in marijuana. Obvi.

THE POINT IS IT WORKS/WORKED/IS WORKING!!! Found something that works. We'll have to see about longer term on the specific migraine, and we'll see how I feel tomorrow.

I've finally found something that (at least temporarily) takes the edge off the pain!!! And while illegal, it's way easier and cheaper to get than any of my prescriptions! I had NBF get me some pot (see, I wasn't kidding last post) and apparently he owns a bowl, so I smoked all but two hits of the pot (very little...a bowlful, really) and now I'm finding it incresingly difficult to type...the typing's not that hard, actually, it's the editing and following what I'm typing that is giving me a lot of difficulty. Ok, so the real trouble seems to be with concentrating on the words. Also, I apparently go back and re-read the last bit of what I said over and over in my head until I know the next thing I am going to write, and if I don't like how it sounds I go back and delete it. Then I start typing the next thought while I'm reading it all "out loud" in my head (my whole hearing-versus-seeing thought process thing). Ok, now I'm stoned. Stoned seems to be the opposite of migraine: with stoned, I mainly notice it when I'm trying to concentrate on something and can't, but with migraine I notice most when I don't have something to distract me. Stoned is certainly distracting. I completely can't write what and how I'm thinking, at least not on computer. I'll hate to try by hand now. Yeesh, I'm going to see this tomorrow and be very annoyed with myself for writing like a fucking stoner when I'm such a square
nerd
ok can't keep thought in head long enough to complete sentences. Weird. I'm such a nerd. But I can only et down my thoughts if I type really fast and don't go back and look at what I've just written or try to think about it too much because as soon as my brain pauses I get lost and I can't go back and find it because as soon as I do I forget where I was and I can't get throught the whole sentence in a stretch to remember what I was trying to say the minute I go back and edit I'm repeating I know I'm repeatinmg can't type fast enough to keep up with brain but I know it's the typing that's all slow, not the brain that's any faster than usual. But it doesn't hurt! THat's all I've been trying to say but aparently I can't write when I'm stoned. How many times did I type that already? I'd go back and check, but I will then lose where I am now and I'll never get anywhere. I am such a nerd for writing this, such a nerd for thinking it, and such a nerd because I'm having so much trouble. Holy hell. Weird weird weird. I absolutely can't get down what I'm thinking into writing. I can't write. The thing that knocks out my migraine is the thing that knocks out what makes me most fundamentally me. That 70s show stoner "duuuuude" deep moment man. Aaaak! I'm done trying to write this. It's more frustrating (though not in that usual painful nagging way)
I can't deal with multiple clauses.
or my normal repetition thing
because I forget what the repetition was
before repeating it
ok but not that time
but mostly
why did I never try to write stoned before?
I always write when I'm drunk.
Sober, too, but that's the whole writer thing again.
Stoner writing.
I could write the way I write when I'm doing first-person-my-dog:
word
writing word
typing
I can type on page.
I have to rememberwhat I'm doing
bad last sentence.
because it didn't sound like dog.
Neither did that.
It just sounds like stooooopid.

Wasn't I going to stop typing this?
Yes.
Yes I was.
Hey! I asked a question AND answered it and then wrote a reaction to it! New record for length of thought!
Does that mean it's already wearing off?
Nah.
Ok, really now, Annabell (remembered my code-name, too!) stop writing. Stop. Writing. Right/write. Now.

Will somebody please bring me some pot? The Migranal isn't working and I'm out of options. While I've never been a big fan of The Marajuana, there's a chance it will do the trick, or at least make this more tolerable.

Humming humming wall is humming. Pipes? Wind? Water? Hum hum hum. Ho hum ho hum my head is dead ho hum. Too many days. Class gets dropped. I liked that class, but drop drop drop it goes, where it stops, nobody knows. Can't think. Can't read. Can't even play silly phone games. Too lost. Brain too lost. Ouchy ouchy ouch ouch ouch. Mind lost. Brain lost. Stick me in a cave somewhere. Quiet temperate cave. Drill holes in my head, fix holes in my heart, whatever, I don't care anymore. Chop me up and put me back together again so I can be a real person again all of the time, not just most of the time, because some of the time this shit sucks.