Make mine a headache!

So, a few days ago, I began the switch from one antidepressant/anti-anxiety medication to the third on the flowchart of fun. So far, I’m simply grateful that none of the nasty side-effects have emerged, especially headaches.

I’ve grown up with migraines. I remember taking myself off to my bedroom, with a cold cloth for my eyes, to shut myself off from the rest of the world while I felt like my head was going to explode.  Inevitably, I would throw up, and then my body was satisfied and sleep could finally settle within and stay.

To my knowledge, there were no triggers. As I got older, oversleeping on the weekends would produce a migraine. That goodness, that has long since passed. During both of my pregnancies, the migraines where especially nasty, rising up from nowhere and taking me to Hell in short order.

After having babies, the nature of my migraines changed. The entire process dropped to half the time, and while this is definitely an improvement, the intensity conversely grew.  I also noticed that there were a few triggers. One is “gray light”, as I call it; when daylight isn’t bright enough for sunglasses or dim enough for indoor lights. Guaranteed day down the drain. Another involves a specific direct blast of light which pierces my pupil and enters the centre of my brain. Not clinically proven, just how I can describe it. I believe this is an ‘ice pick’ type of migraine.  Hideous however it’s described.

After speaking with many other migraine sufferers, I am convinced that every individual’s experience with this pain is unique. No need for one-upping with gory details. The Migraine is horrid. Nuff said.

Back to the new medication. My hopes are high with this one, as long as the laser pain of headaches never emerge.

On second thought, if breathing through a headache (as opposed to a migraine) is necessary for my brain to adjust positively, you’ll find me praying for continued progress.

The Real World

Hi. I’m Angela: a 50-something woman, wife, mom, business-owner, and wannabe author.

I’ve spent a few years on an ‘artists’ website posting fanfiction and gaining confidence in my writing skills. And then the unforgivable happened. TSwift became Hiddles’ ‘girlfriend’ and my passion for writing fanfiction went down the drain.

Now, before you scoff at the above reason, I am fully aware of how this sounds. Unless you were devastated by Tom’s apparent loss of sanity for those few months, I can’t begin to explain this to you.   It’s simply easier to accept my tragic disconnection from happily typing what my imagination gave me. Like I have. Or am trying to. 

I’ve always had a vibrant imagination. I dream A LOT, and I usually remember my dreams. However, approximately six years ago, a pair of assassins slithered into my brain: depression and anxiety. It took me a year to see my doctor. I had to realize that I just could not shake the butterflies-in-my-stomach feeling (there were no reasons to feel apprehensive) and that despite all of the blessings in my life, I simply could not feel joy. In fact, I couldn’t really feel any one emotion.  That is not who I am!

Writing fanfiction was exciting. It also distracted me sufficiently from depression, in addition to the medication I was getting used to (my first long-term prescription).  I wrote a couple of 30+ chapter stories. Ideas kept coming to me, so I kept on writing.

None of this matters anymore. My interest fell off completely. Worse yet, my imagination went dormant. I was unable to find inspiration to write. Wordless weeks passed. I missed the rush of my readers’ responses yet I missed the act of writing far more.

“But Angela, you’re writing a blog.”  Indeed. And I have to give credit to the ‘Becoming Minimalist’ Facebook page I have been following. That author, Joshua Becker, delivers a beautiful message: Having less means living more.  (Read his blog to understand this philosophy in greater depth.becomingminimalist.com) Mr. Becker suggests blogging for 15 excellent reasons; he had me intrigued with the first five.

And here I am, writing once again, with inspiration and desire. TSwift can’t mess this up for me, no way; no how. I won’t let her. Should Hiddles want to comment, I’m bound to require medical attention. (Good thing I live fairly close to a hospital.)

On second thought, I can write.

Until next time,

Angela