Prompt:Describe your HAWMC experience in one word!

“Aprillicious.”

April is the worst month for my Migraines. So, the fact that i got this many posts off is kind of a testament to my drive to get this done.

I’ve once again learned that it’s okay to take care of me. But even in my worst month, I did well.

It felt good to write when the highs of lack of pain and the depths of pain insomnia hit.

I guess the hardest post was to introduce myself- as I’m going through some dx issues right now, and I don’t know what the heck is going on in my own body- where as last time I did HAWMC, I was more sure of what was going on, and was able to provide more support.

This time, I have more on my mind.

I loved reading other people’s posts, to engage with the community. To give props to fellow activists. To disagree with the prompts, and go my own way, and know that it was okay.

So, here ends HAWMC 2013. I’m going to take a nap.

I plan on uploading old Migraine writings here daily or as possible, given my health considerations. Read them if you want… But… I thought y’all should know… that it’s going to be National Migraine Awareness Month… and we Migraineurs are out there… and plan to be visible.

Invisible no more…

When I’m angry, sad, emotional

I usually write without editing- not because I think i’m smarter than anyone else, or because i’m perfect, but because if i don’t write it down, i’ll bust.

i rarely write when i’m happy. then i call people.

my punctuation stinks the first time around.

I write on napkins

I write on barf bags on planes when I forget paper, and pads in the airport are bloody expensive. I mean, when you ask your neighbor on the plane for his barf bag because you run out of room on yours, they’re not going to deny it to you…

I write when my computer screws me over and reorganizes my files- Ok, this is the second time this has happened, but I planned on using today as a skip day.

I’m a piano player, so I’m used to using my fingers to express myself. I find it interesting how the pressure I put on the keys comes differently when my thoughts are racing than when I’m screaming in pain- the quick tap tap tap, versus the feel of each key against my fingers, conscious of every touch- everything touching my body.

I type on my iPhone, but quickly am frustrated when the joints in my fingers- not blackberry thumb- scream at me to stop doing so, and if it’s really that important, to use the voice recorder application or the dictation one

I write to scream, to let my words reach other ears. Or eyes.

But the real question is, my friends= who gets to read what I write? Now, that’s a question, and a prompt all its own.

And no, I didn’t spell check this post. Or stop the stream of consciousness of it. I;m angry, and I just don’t care. I have to find the rest of my files… ‘cause i would put a picture here… but I have no idea where the one I want to use has gone.

Happy Sunday, and may everyone be safe from the scary weather.

-J

Eventually, no one wants to hear all the daily whines of being me Something might strike a chord with someone else Because it makes me feel heard Because it makes me feel validated

Because I’ve never had success with therapy. Their eyes look at mine And pry into my soul Paper doesn’t do that
Nor does the internet

If someone reads my writing, that’s great. If they don’t, it’s therapy for me. I write for me I write for you

I write because no one judges my words, or asks me “how that makes me feel.”

i write about my health because it’s cathartic, and perhaps that’s enough to keep me going as a health activist.