my not-so-secret sorrows

At least on here.  In real life, I hide my sorrows.  Because who really cares?  Not many.  And not for long. 

Hello again, my old nemesis, Migraine.

I thought I bid adieu to my four day migraine.  It missed me, I guess, so it came right back the next day and was fkn unstoppable.  Two injections in a couple days is pretty bad.  Thank the fkn cosmos they work though.  I'm so tired of this.  And not just the matching bruises on each thigh.

I made plans for this weekend, and I already regret that.  Not because I'm an asshole and hate fun, but because I feel like I'll disappoint someone by canceling.  Maybe I'll be fine, she said wistfully.

What kind of life is this?  I'm on the latest and greatest meds for the last 50 years.  I'll try to hang on another year, because allegedly next year is my year.  I'm grateful there are people like Dr. Dodick, trying their hardest to make a difference.  But I am DEEP in my PityParty this morning.  Pushing back those tears so my head doesn't trigger again.  I can't even enjoy a good cry anymore.

Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.
   -- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow