Chronic Illness

Migraines are my Own Fault?

I don’t know if it’s because I am a woman and the things I heard growing up, but I can’t help feel like migraines may be my own fault?

 

Keeping my head up, I try to not make myself out to be a victim or make things larger than what they are. This is a post that would be something I would not want my kids to read, because they already feel bad enough. It kills me that they have had to hear and see any suffering.

As I sit here keeping calm, I regretfully disclose that I missed my three month visit to the neurology department at Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. It was my fault that I missed it. In the days prior, I got caught up in everything else but myself and forgot myself. As a result, I missed my Botox injections. I can’t get in for another two months now. There goes my life for the next two months, and it is all my fault.

The Botox injections are a godsend. I don’t know if they’ll eventually find something dangerously wrong with them, but if they do… it will have been worth the relief. The migraines are a wrath from hell without them. The Cefaly device I have helps the migraines that peek through while using Botox for the headaches. It even helps some without the Botox, but not enough to get me out of hell.

Migraines make me feel like I am being punished for something. They grip my head and flare up the fibromyalgia pain all over my body. It becomes an explosion. Throughout my research on both migraines and fibromyalgia when I searched for answers to make them go away, I came across people who claimed they cured themselves by praying to God, or by eating more greens. I have changed my diet. I do pray to God. Still I feel like I am being eaten alive.

Growing up, I saw women with headaches. I heard people imply that women get headaches because they are nervous nillies. That kind of mindset sticks. By nature I am a nervous person and have become much more laid back than I thought I could be. People do change some. Growing up makes that happen. My body has aged and changed, but now my body is just as nervous. My hands quiver when sitting still. When I hold onto a book, my son will hold my hand still to keep it from shaking.

My grandmother suffered from horrible headaches for as long as I can remember. My parents suffer from headaches as well. The use of the word suffer is not used lightly here. It is used to describe a debilitating state of infliction, not an inconvenience.

Logically, I know that the headaches are not my fault. Still, I can’t help but worry that my daughter will inherit my pain one way or another. Life, it’s chronic.

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