A Look Back at 2023

It's the end of 2024. As I reflect on this year, I realize that I never posted about 2023. So, here it is. 

Note: I wrote this in December 2023.

I last posted about 2022 (and here's 2021). I may not always share an annual blog post. I don't want to place pressure on myself to write one. I'm allowing space for myself to do so, if it feels right. 

I closed out the year wanting 2023 to be "full of peace, calm, grace, and abundance. I want to flow through the challenges that will inevitably show up. I want to be present in moments of beauty and joy."

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash

My previous year's review offered a few questions to ponder. While they're good questions to ask about any chunk of time (a day, week, month, year, and so forth), the new year offers an opportunity to consider them for 2023.

What did you overcome this year?

I faced a lot of fear this year. I was strong and brave in ways that I haven't always noticed. I took chances and opened myself up in new safe spaces. 

This year, I made huge strides in changing the way I relate to myself and my emotions. 

• I'm learning how to be more aware of and better identify and express my emotions. 
• I'm learning more about what I need and want. 
• I'm learning new ways to use my voice. 
• I'm learning more about neural pathways and the relationship between my thoughts, emotions, and physical sensations. 

What brought you joy this year?

So much has brought me joy this year. I feel like I'm seeing things through clearer eyes, in some ways. Depression has loosened its grip on me, and life is brighter. 

I have a support system that has offered me safe presence, encouragement, feedback, and guidance. I love sharing space with these souls, even if it's mostly virtually. 

I have been able to spend time with people I love, in-person and virtually. I have been writing more, exploring new recipes, and taking more pictures of beauty.

What do you want next year to look like?

I want next year to be a time of growth and rest, consistency and change, depth and frivolity. I want there to be meaningful conversations, moments of joy, soulful connections. I want my days to be filled with creativity, love, and laughter. 

Questions for reflection (and sharing, if you'd like to). Feel free to adjust the timing to what feels right for you. Perhaps you want to consider these questions for a month, quarter, etc. 

• What did you overcome this year?
• What brought you joy this year?
• What do you want next year to look like?

"Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

A Year in Review (2022)

Note: I wrote this in December 2022.

I don't always do a year in review sort of post, though I did in 2021. I was recently part of a writing group that prompted me to consider some questions about this year.

eberhard 🖐 grossgasteiger on Unsplash

This year has been an intense year. There has been a lot of deep sadness and grief. Depression has taken hold multiple times. Anxiety has spun me around more times than I can count. Pain remains my daily companion.

Through it all, God has remained faithful. I'm grateful for His provision, especially when I don't know what I need.

I have overcome a lot this year. I've made it through every single time that I wasn't sure I would. Every time. Every. Time. I will continue to make it through, even when I'm not sure how.

I did a lot of hard work this year. I tackled depression with TMS (transcranial magnetic stimulation), Ketamine, and therapy. I completed a 3-week intensive pain rehabilitation program. I consistently showed up for physical therapy, both in office and at home. I made it through pelvic trigger point injections and acupuncture. A lot of needles. A lot of pain. A lot of work.

I am a warrior. I’m tired of fighting, and I'm doing my best to find balance.

I still have a long way to go to get to where I want to be. Where I thought I would already be. I'm doing my best to accept where I am and continue working to get to where I want to be.

I spent time with family and friends this year, both virtually and in-person. I enjoyed moments of love and laughter.

I want next year to be full of peace, calm, grace, and abundance. I want to flow through the challenges that will inevitably show up. I want to be present in moments of beauty and joy.

Intentionally reflecting allows me to recognize how far I've come.

• Writing about the obstacles that I overcame reminds me of my strength and resilience, and God's faithful provision.
• Remembering the people and moments that brought me joy reminds me of all that I'm so very grateful for.
• Looking forward to the coming year reminds me that there's space to grow and change, and that there's always hope.

Questions for reflection (and sharing, if you'd like to):

• What did you overcome this year?
• What brought you joy this year?
• What do you want next year to look like?

"Year's end is neither an end nor a beginning but a going on, with all the wisdom that experience can instill in us." - Hal Borland

Allowing What I Need Right Now

I'm grateful for words that show up at the perfect moment and resonate.

Photo by Andreas Wagner on Unsplash

"Allow yourself the things you need right now. Whether that's space, rest, support, or something else, know that you are not a burden for taking care of yourself." - To Write Love On Her Arms

I'll admit that I don't always do the best at identifying or allowing myself what I need in the moment. It's something I've been intentionally working on... and it feels like life is giving me tons of opportunities to practice.

I have read the above quote at different moments over the past few months. It remains something I need reminded of, even though my responses to it have varied. 

• I have no idea what I need right now or how to make it through this pain, this grief, this moment. None of those things will bring relief or reprieve. 
• I am doing all the things I'm able to do for what I need right now, including, acknowledging that various pains (physical, mental, emotional) often team up with one another and have a propensity for telling lies. 

I'm fighting back with truths:

• This moment is hard, and I will make it through.
• The pain and grief are real, and I'm anchored to the One that will see me through each wave of every storm.
• I am doing what I can to take care of myself, and that is always enough.️

I know that there's likely more I want to write and explore on the topic. I'm choosing to focus on getting through the current storm, jotting thoughts down as I'm able, and being ok with revisiting them when I'm better able to. 

Pain Wraps Us Tightly Into Ourselves

Pain wraps us tightly into ourselves.

Photo by Erik Kroon on Unsplash

I wrote these words a couple years ago. They have proven to be so true. I have seen and felt it in me. I have seen and felt it in others.

Physical pain. Mental pain. Emotional pain. Spiritual pain. Relational pain. All pain. 

When pain is acute and deep, focus tends to draw inward. Toward the hurt, pain, chaos within. 

It sometimes feels like there's no way out of the protective walls that shoot up when the brain thinks we are in danger. The truth is that those walls often close off the very people that are willing to help. 

"I started to build a home with all the walls I was putting up for myself, but when I was finished, I realized I had built a cage and didn’t make a key." - Lidia Longorio

I have worked for years to recognize and intentionally act in ways that counter the closing off that feels natural when pain hits hard. 

One way I do this is to reach out, when I feel myself closing off and turning inward. I do this through prayer and connecting with a friend. It doesn't always make an immediate notable difference for me, but I can usually notice that it positively impacts the person I reach out to... and it ultimately impacts me, too, even if it's delayed. 

My goal in reaching out is to connect. This sometimes involves sharing about my current struggles, but not always. Oftentimes, it's simply to let them know that I'm thinking of them. This is likely related to me feeling alone in that moment and wanting others to know that they're not. I find that true connection helps both individuals feel less alone. 

"Knowing that you're not alone really does make all the difference in the world." - Normani Hamilton

Grief

Grief is a difficult part of my journey. It weaves its way through in so many different ways that I often don't even recognize or acknowledge its existence. I know that grieving the various and many losses in life is part of being human. And it's really hard.

From grieving losses related to chronic illness to losses of loved ones, I'd like to write through to try to make sense or peace with some of it. I'm not sure where this path will take me, so I'll start right where I am now.

Photo by Todd Turner on Unsplash 

Grief is so complex. It shows up in so many ways, at so many times, both expected and unexpected.

My body seems to remember anniversaries of losses, even if I don't immediately recognize the timing.

My mind has been returning to / flooded with memories very intensely in recent weeks, and I didn't realize why. Eventually, I looked at the calendar and realized that there are several deep losses within a few weeks of each other from late June to early July.

How long ago the original losses were doesn't seem to matter. Grief knows no time. It calls for experiencing and processing over and over and over. The waves sometimes seem to lessen in certain ways (like frequency or intensity), but they continue to come.

In my experience, grief can hit in different ways:

• Specific: the loss of a certain person or thing.
• Multiple: the loss of multiple people or things.
• General, over-arching, all-encompassing: a sense of all of one's losses.
• Combination: multiple ways at one time.

When multiple losses surface at the same time, the associated grief compounds. Instead of facing the grief of a single loss, which can be heavy and difficult enough, you're simultaneously facing unresolved grief of multiple or all losses. It can feel like drowning.

There's no way to shortcut grief, which really sucks. It demands to be felt. And it's in our best interest to experience and work through it, when it shows up. It sounds so simple, but I've never experienced it to be such.

 
As I face the grief of multiple losses, I'm doing my best to tread water, as the waves crash over me. I know that the storm will pass, or at least change. So, I do what I must to weather it and process what I can along the way.

“The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same nor would you want to.”
- Elizabeth Kübler-Ross

Reflecting 12 Years Post Accident (2020)

I wrote this post last fall (October 2020), as the anniversary of the car accident approached. 

Over the years, the meaning and emotion of the event have ebbed and flowed in a way that perfectly illustrates the grief process. I've written about this multiple times before: 

• The Battle Begins
• 3-Year Anniversary of Car Accident
• 4-Year Anniversary of Car Accident

When I moved to Arizona in 2017, I started seeing a headache specialist here. It so happened that the date of that initial appointment was the same as the accident. I consciously chose to take back that date; the move and new provider representing a clean slate of sorts. 

This year has been filled with so much loss, on both the individual and collective levels. Perhaps it's in light of this that I find myself more aware, as the anniversary of the accident approaches.

As 12 years post accident approaches, I find myself reflective. 

Photo by Faramarz Hashemi on Unsplash

Following my accident, I fought hard to get back the pre-accident Jamie. I finally reached a level of acceptance in living with this disease, and fought hard for the Jamie I am today. I'm still a work in progress, no doubt. But, in this moment, I recognize that I've come a long way.

I have to be very mindful about how I think about this. It can be all too easy to spin down a path of what ifs. The truth is, the person I was when the accident happened is frozen in time. She very well might've had a different journey, but the person I missed for so long (and sometimes still do) would be whoever she grew to be over the years. And, that, is unknowable. It will forever be an unknown. So, I must remind my mind that the grass may not have been greener. 

I'm grateful to have some people close to me that know me and love me as I am, not who they wish I was. I want to see me through their eyes, to believe in myself the way they believe in me...  with less self-critical judgment. I'm working on it.

Today, I recognize that living with chronic pain is hard, that each year that passes may affect me differently, that grief is a process with ebbs and flows... and... that I can do more than I think I can, that I can engage with myself with compassion and love, that I can give myself space to experience the grief process in all the ways it shows up. 

(As I'm posting this a year after writing it, I'll share about this year's anniversary in a separate post) 

"Loving ourselves through the process of owning our story is the bravest thing we'll ever do." - Brene Brown

In Loving Memory of Jordan Conkle

*Sensitive Topic / Trigger Warning: death, suicide

My cousin, Jordan Conkle, died from depression by suicide on November 3rd. 

Loss and grief are part of the human experience, happening in a multitude of different ways throughout our lives. It's never easy. Processing tragic, devastating losses is really hard. I want to share some things that I’ve written, as I've tried to wrap my mind around this loss. It may be a bit bumpy, but grieving is rarely smooth sailing. 

In the Moment

Today started like any other. When I checked my phone, however, I had a missed call and voicemail, overnight. I listened to it and reached out via message to find out more. It was about Jordan, but that's all I knew. I didn't feel up to a phone call, but my anxiety nagged at me, so I texted my sister in law to see if she knew what was going on and if Jordan was alright. She immediately called me. Ok, so it's something that takes explanation. My mind didn't immediately jump to the worst (which is actually an improvement for me). 

Then, she said the words. The words that made everything spin and stop at the same time. 

Jordan ended his life last night.

What?

She repeated it.

I started to collapse down and lose it. Jeremy caught me and helped me safely down to the ground. 

I think I whispered, "Jordan's gone," in disbelief.

There is no good way to find this type of thing out. That said, I'm grateful for the family member that reached out during the night and for my sister in law. She was direct with telling me what happened, and was a soft and safe place for me to experience the initial shock and wave of emotions. I'll always be thankful for her love and care in such a heartbreaking moment.

Thoughts Day-of

Today, I found out that my cousin ended his life last night. I don't know how to wrap my mind around this.

Losing someone is hard. The circumstances around the loss, I find, can magnify different parts of the grieving process. You still must travel through the stages, in whatever order they present and re-present, but some come up more or are more pronounced.

This year, I've lost two people, both completely unexpectedly. I knew losing people would happen. It's part of being human. I wasn't prepared for the losses to strike so soon to people in their 30s, like I am. It's so hard to process, on multiple levels.

I don't want to sit in it, but I've been in the depths of depression. I know how bad that place is, and I'm so grateful that I've gotten out. I know others that have been in that place, too. We live with deep depression. There's a knowing that only people that have experienced that type of depth can have, even though everyone's experience is unique. I try to support those I can, in the ways that I can. They ultimately have to get out of the pit, but I can sit with them and shine a light for them when they're surrounded by darkness. 

I woke today, wishing it had only been a bad dream. It isn't, and that is crushing.

Memorial Service

The memorial service for Jordan was held in-person in Texas, followed by a graveside service. They streamed the memorial service on the church's social media. My sister and I were able to FaceTime and watch together. 

I attended a virtual memorial service earlier this year, but this one felt different. We weren't in Zoom rooms watching the service together. It felt like everyone was gathered together, and we were watching from afar. There was a disconnect. 

During the service, I learned that Jordan's favorite worship song was Here I Am to Worship. Jordan was someone who lived and loved big, and he's deeply missed by many.

I'm grateful for conversations with loved ones, both those also grieving the loss and those supporting me in my grief. I'm grateful for my cousins, who reached out and connected. I'm grateful that my sister and I were able to watch the service and be with one another in the ways we were able. I know that there will be waves of processing and grieving, much of which is done alone. I'm so grateful to have people that love and care surrounding me, who will support me however they can.

The Following Months

The holidays were filled with a lot of different emotions, for a lot of different reasons. In light of a loss in the family, my mind fluttered through memories, specifically those of growing up so close with my cousins. 

On Thanksgiving evening, I began to miss more... our big family Thanksgiving get togethers. Kristin and Jordan would get there later in the day and we'd play games. 

As Christmas approached, I felt the missing grow. Missing out being with family and friends, especially in light of a pandemic and unexpected family loss. I had dream(s) that included PaPa and Jordan, two family losses in as many years. I knew in the dreams that they're no longer with us, but they were special all the same. The one that Jordan was in: I think we were gathered as a family trying to watch his funeral service or something. Jordan came to me. He was younger. And we hugged, the way he did. 

I continue to give myself space to process. I wrote, "Jordan, it's Christmas Eve. We used to spend every one of them together (as we grew older, it was the weekend before Christmas). We would be eating, laughing, opening gifts, sneaking off to play with our gifts as the adults talk."

It's interesting the things we remember. I have tons of memories with Jordan, but many of them are simple moments. The silly grin on his face, his facial expressions, the way he hugged and laughed and smiled. 

As I've been processing, it's clear that we don't always remember the details of a memory or moment. That's ok. We can remember and hold onto how we felt in that person's company or presence. Love, laughter, comfort, calm, joy. All of these are so precious. 

Letter to Jordan

Jordan,

How can you not be here anymore? It's so hard to make sense of this world not having you in it. I know that we haven't kept in touch. But, you always have a place in my heart. I cherish the memories of all of us throughout the years. Watching Milan, playing games, playing pool, dressing you up, going to car shows, monthly family birthday get togethers, Thanksgiving at my parents' house, Christmas at your parents' house... I'm grateful that we were able to have that time together. 

We last saw each other in November 2019 at Grandma's 80th birthday party. When you were leaving, you stopped and chatted with me, giving me all of your attention. You told me that you read my posts and you asked me to tell you more about my advocacy work. We talked about Headache on the Hill and me speaking at RetreatMigraine and Miles for Migraine events. You shared that you wished I wasn't in so much pain, but that you're so proud of who I am and the work that I do. Then, you gave me a hug. Your hugs were so healing, a safe and loving embrace. I am beyond grateful for those moments and that memory with you. I felt seen. Beyond the childhood and familial connection, but rather one adult to another. That connection we had, I will always remember and cherish.

Jordan, I'm so sorry that you were in a place of such despair that you didn't see a way out. I won't get wrapped up in how I imagine you feeling or even what mental health challenges you might've been facing, as it's all conjecture, and truthfully doesn't matter... it won't bring you back.

I love you so much, cousin. 

Final Thoughts, For Now

I am working so hard to process the grief. To acknowledge and express the things I wish were different, without carrying the weight of regret. I will continue to process through the hurt places and grieving potential future outcomes. Learning lessons along the way that I can use to help shape how I move forward. Processing through the grief until what remains is love, cherished memories, and lessons to move forward.

Links:

• Obituary: Jordan Lee Conkle Obituary - Visitation & Funeral Information (lucasfuneralhomes.com)
• Memorial Service Video: https://fb.watch/34RAxG6ieW/

About Suicide

• Globally, there is one suicide about every 40 seconds. (WHO, Suicide Prevention Fact Sheet)
• In the U.S., there is a suicide every 13.7 minutes. (Suicidology, Fact Sheet)
• Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death for Americans. (CDC, Fact Sheet" (Suicide – TWLOHA))
• Suicide is the 2nd leading cause of death for Americans ages 10-34. (CDC, Fact Sheet" (Suicide – TWLOHA))
• Males die by suicide four times as often as females, but there are three female attempts for every male attempt. (Suicidology, Fact Sheet)

Resources

• American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP)
• World Health Organization (mental health and suicide data)
• American Association of Suicidology 
• 22KILL
• To Write Love on Her Arms
• Helplines: 
• National Suicide Prevention Hotline (24/7/365): 1-800-273-TALK (8255) 
• Crisis Text Line (24/7): text TALK to 741741 to connect to a crisis counselor
• NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) Helpline (M-F 10am-6pm ET): 800-950-NAMI (6264) or info@nami.org
• Veterans Crisis Line (24/7): 1-800-273-8255 (press 1), text 838255, chat online
• Additional 24-hour helplines (including child abuse, domestic abuse, sexual abuse)

"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear" - C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

In Loving Memory of Jenn Tingwald

My dear friend, Jenn Tingwald, passed away unexpectedly on July 2nd.

I’ve been experiencing the full spectrum of grief. I have tried turning to writing, as it’s always been how I process my emotions and experiences. As I’ve found, though, words are often insufficient to express the fullness of universal human experiences… including, grief. This may be a long, bumpy post; but, I want to share some things I’ve written since I heard the news of Jenn’s passing. 

Words in the Moment 

Today, I found out that Jenn Tingwald passed away last night. I don’t know how those words together can be true. I can’t wrap my mind around it. I know that she was in and out of the hospital a lot over the past few months, but how is she gone? When I read of her passing, my heart broke and my body collapsed. We messaged earlier this week. She wasn’t well, but she was a warrior… like she always was. 

How do I even find the words to describe what I’m feeling? 

I’ve lost people in my life, from drifting away to death. 

This loss is different than others. 

Of course, it hurt badly when my grandparents passed, but they were ill for years beforehand. There was much grieving, sometimes for years, as there were a series of losses before the final one. 

This was different. 

This was completely unexpected. 

Jenn had a lot of health challenges, but she always made it through… until she didn’t. 

I know that grief is a process. I know that the waves will continue to come. Waves of disbelief, sorrow, overwhelm. The waves will vary in size and frequency, but they will continue. 

Today, it’s waves of disbelief and overwhelm. I can’t grasp it, and then it swallows me. It’s such a difficult part of being human. All day, I’ve sobbed and keep saying, “I don’t understand.” 

I know that a lot of things I do will remind me of her, as we shared so many ups and downs together. Living with chronic pain (struggles, successes, treatments, disability, etc), Mayo Clinic, advocacy work (including, Headache on the Hill and Miles for Migraine). Right now, that seems overwhelming. I'm reminding myself that each of these is an opportunity to respond with gratitude for our friendship and move forward with courage and perseverance, knowing she's with me in spirit.

Every ounce of me knows that she’s finally out of pain and with our Lord. I know that I’ll carry her with me, as will the many others whose lives she touched during her time on earth. I’m grateful for all of that, truly. 

Letter to Jenn

My dear friend, 

It’s been a week since you passed. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around you not being here. My heart aches and tears continue to stream down my face as waves of sorrow and overwhelm wash over me. I’ve been thinking a lot about you, and about our interactions. 

I remember the first time I met you. We were at the final American Headache and Migraine Association conference in November 2017. We sat next to each other all morning, but neither of us spoke to one another because we were both managing a migraine attack and medication side effects. As we broke for lunch at the end of the conference, we started talking (my mind doesn’t remember clearly if we just started talking or if Dr. Starling introduced us). Either way, we learned each other’s names and chatted a little. Then, we connected through social media, and grew our friendship. I’m so grateful that we didn’t allow the opportunity to meet pass us by. 

You were the first local friend I made, after Jeremy and I moved to Phoenix. I didn’t know how I’d make local friends, given the limitations of this disease; but God crossed our paths and we became close friends quickly. 

Over the past couple years, we were open books with one another, allowing for a depthful connection that transcended the number of days we knew each other… 956 days. I cherish the conversations we shared about faith, advocacy, and the challenges and successes of living with chronic illness. 

You loved fiercely. I think that’s something we have in common. Your love for your family was unquestionable and second only to your love for God. I always enjoyed hearing stories and seeing pictures of your daughter. She is so precious, and I’m grateful that I was able to meet her in-person this March. 

Among other things, I will never forget your generosity and kindness. You always did your best to support and encourage me, despite the challenges you faced. Thank you for that. 

You made a difference in so many people's lives. Amongst the darkness of losing you, your light continues to shine. It's there in the lives you touched. It's undoubtedly you, and it's beautiful. 

It’s been two weeks since you passed. How can that be? My experience of time is warped. I want to tell you that it was such an honor being friends with you. Thank you for always encouraging me to simply be myself and reminding me to speak from my heart. What a beautiful gift. 

Goodbye, for now, my friend. 

Tributes
I was asked to share an overview of Jenn's headache disorders advocacy:

Jenn Tingwald was a fierce advocate for the headache disorders community. She participated in Headache on the Hill multiple years, spoke at two Phoenix Miles for Migraine events, and was featured in a PBS Newshour special that aired in February. Jenn openly shared about her and her daughter’s experiences living with headache disorders, and highlighted the importance of finding your voice and reclaiming your purpose through advocacy.

Jenn’s husband, Aaron, generously provided an opportunity to share a short video with a story about Jenn. I have many, but the one that was on my heart perfectly displays the kind, generous spirit of my dear friend: 

Jenn and I met at a migraine advocacy event in fall 2017 and quickly became friends and fellow headache disorders advocates. Last year (2019), Jenn and I were going to room together for Headache on the Hill. A couple days before the training, she canceled her trip. She desperately wanted to go, but she needed to focus on her health. When a horrible migraine attack knocked me down after my travel day, she tried to coordinate getting heat pads and Epsom salt delivered to me. Despite the challenges she faced, she messaged me throughout my travels and the Headache on the Hill event. She told me she’d be with me in spirit, and I could feel her presence every step of the way. 

Jenn was one of the strongest, most kind-hearted people I’ve ever known. She was a fierce advocate, especially for her daughter. And, she was a faithful prayer warrior. She always encouraged me to be myself and speak from my heart, especially when she knew I was anxious. I know she’ll continue to be with me in spirit, and I’ll hear her voice reminding me, “You’re going to do amazing!” 

For anyone interested: 

• Jennifer Tingwald Memorial Celebration Video: https://youtu.be/sapHU5bTyHQ 
• Celebrating the Life of Jenn Tingwald Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/2734079326696053
• Go Fund Me Page (the page beautifully expresses what an amazing person Jenn was, touching the lives of so many): https://www.gofundme.com/f/jennifer-cohn-tingwald-memorial
• National Headache Foundation (Jenn’s story): https://headaches.org/2018/06/29/jennifer-tingwald/
• PBS Newshour (featuring Jenn): https://www.pbs.org/newshour/show/15-percent-of-americans-have-migraine-disease-why-arent-there-better-treatment-options 

“The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same nor would you want to.” - Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and David Kessler

Headache on the Hill: Behind the Scenes

As I began writing about my Headache on the Hill 2020 experience, I found a post that was written but never posted from last year's event. The following post is from 2019, though much of it is timeless.

Photo by Ian Schneider on Unsplash

In writing about my experience and the asks of Headache on the Hill (HOH) 2019, I realized that there's another side that needs to be shared.

Every person that went through the process to participate in HOH has their own story of the event. Some people weren't able to make the trip because of health, financial, or other reasons. Some pushed to make the trip, but were then unable to attend training and/or their meetings on the Hill because of health. Some pushed to participate, and then crashed hard afterward.

Headache diseases can be unpredictable. And, everything that participating in a lobbying event like HOH entails adds up and can be difficult to do while living with the uncertainty of chronic health conditions.

Sometimes you can push through, and sometimes you can't. There is no shame in that. Oh! But, I know that those unable to attend their meetings were overwhelmed by enormous emotions.

Traveling alone

I haven't traveled much alone, since I became chronic after my car accident in 2008. My husband and I have traveled, but my only solo travel has been to visit and stay with family. Attending HOH was the first non-family related travel that I ventured out on my own. I was both excited for the independence and anxious about managing on my own. Knowing that I had friends also attending HOH helped put my mind at ease.

The day before the HOH training was a travel day for me. I flew across the country alone. Time in a plane is hard on the body, and I was hurting badly, when I arrived in Washington, D.C. I made it to the hotel, checked in, and collapsed onto my bed. A friend of mine invited me to dinner and encouraged me to come, despite my exhaustion and pain. I appreciated being around people that get it, and I know that my body needed an actual meal after a day of snacking. I made it back to my room after dinner, but I was completely spent. The weather outside was worsening, and my head and body pain mirrored that.

Reaching out for support

I reached out to my sister, in tears. The exchange of messages revealed the spiral that pain often takes me on.

"When I hurt, my brain catastrophizes. I'm trying to not be overcome with thoughts about not being prepared tomorrow, should I take meds today, if I take today I can't take more tomorrow, etc... It's just a spiral I go through. It's hard."

My sister doesn't experience migraine herself. She has a truly beautiful heart, though, and has taken note of things that I've mentioned help me in the past. She recommended heat... all I had were hand warmers, but she encouraged me to use them to try to help manage the pain (specifically my neck pain).

One thing that I appreciated was that she made a couple simple recommendations (heat and ice), which can sometimes slip my mind. She acknowledged what she wasn't equipped to guide me on. Through it all, she offered me what I needed most... herself. Knowledge that I wasn't alone. Prayers being sent up on my behalf. Reminders that my my painful groans are wordless prayers that reach our Father, when we cannot find the words. Sharing a beautiful song to speak truth to my heart in a way that it could hear it. The song she sent on that night: Fear is a Liar by Zach Williams.

The person that was supposed to be my roommate wasn't able to make it because of a status migraine, but she did her best to try to help from afar... even going so far as to try to get some supplies delivered to me to help me through the attack.

I ended up treating the migraine attack, and made it through the night. My mind and body felt the effects of the battle that had raged on the previous day, but I was able to attend the training day. After training, I gave my body rest and quiet.

The day we went to the Hill for our meetings, one of the people in my group was having a bad migraine attack. I offered support in the ways that I was able to, and checked up on him throughout the day. We shared that he was missing the day's meetings due to a migraine attack, which highlighted the impact of this disease.

I've observed, heard others' stories, and experienced first-hand, the love and support that this community has among its members. There is an often unspoken understanding that we all experience pain and other symptoms, allowing for deeper connections and support in ways that can feel like home. There is such great power and hope in knowing that we're not alone.

“Give your weakness to one who helps.” - Rumi

Status Migrainosus: A Difficult Week

I'll warn you (and apologize) up-front, this post may be kind choppy...

This has been one of the worst pain weeks I've had in a long time. I've taken migraine and pain meds (maxed out) and rested a lot. My doctor prescribed a round of corticosteroids, which hasn't seemed to offer much relief.

Status migrainosus is basically a severe intensity migraine that is unremitting for more than 72 hours. Now, I have some degree of head pain every, single day. I have chronic migraine, which means that I have migraines 15+ days per month. And, yet, I get these status migraines that I seem to have no way to prepare for. I know, intellectually, that at some point the pain will break. But, it doesn't seem like it, in the midst of the pain, especially when nothing (meds, coping skills, etc) is offering any relief.

Sleep Disturbance
My sleep pattern is completely insane. Since this horrible stretch of migraine pain began, my hours slept per day (can't say per night because some nights were no sleep, but a nap during the day) have been:

• 8.25 hours
• 3.50 hours
• 9.00 hours
• 3.25 hours
• 17.00 hours
• 0.00 hours
• 15.75 hours

Talk about out of whack! Hypersomnia intermixed with insomnia... quite a toxic combination.

Memory / Processing Problems

Early this week (day 2 of severe pain), my memory was so bad... it was scary! My mind wasn't working at all - I would forget what I was saying, mid-sentence. My difficulties with memory and processing hasn't been that bad in a long time, and it reminded me of some of the struggles I had following my car accident. Strangely, though, I was inspired (and somehow able) to write a blog post, start to finish - When Your Pain is Invisible: You Look So Good. Honestly, I sometimes have more inspiration to write, when I'm at my low (not lowest) points... in the darkness... it's weird.

Irritability

I know that I've been extremely irritable, and not doing a very good job of filtering it. I've found myself snapping easily. It seems uncontrollable, out of my hands. I'm easily frustrated and/or annoyed by the dog, my husband, anything, everything, nothing...

Visual Disturbances

The visual issues I've faced with this migraine attack have been expansive. Aura, blurry vision, trouble focusing, see flashing lights (in all different lighting, from a dark room to bright outside).

And More...

If all of that wasn't enough, there have been so many other symptoms (many more than I'd like to write here)... aphasia, allodynia, hypersensitivity, vertigo, anxiety, depression, fatigue, and the list goes on...

Oh Yeah, Head Pain

If you noticed, I didn't even really mention the incessant head pain, and the neck and back stiffness and pain. The horrendous and unceasing nature of the pain has been paramount in my week... I can't seem to find relief.

Grateful

I will say, though, that I'm grateful to have been able to spend a little time out at a friend's (wedding) couples shower Saturday evening, and with my Mom to visit my grandmother in the hospital Sunday evening. I can't say that it didn't take a lot out of me, or even that it really even distracted me from the pain, but I'm glad that I could be there for those that I care about.

Compassion in Greece, continued

I previously wrote about an experience I had in Greece (back in 2005): Compassion in Greece.

While on a class trip to Athens, Greece, I ended up with a monster migraine. One of the professors there responded with such kindness and compassion. He helped me, and then supported my decision to not miss the day at the Acropolis (despite my having sunglasses on, a jacket over my head, and needing assistance walking). He didn't question or belittle me. He simply offered me understanding, compassion, and kindness. And, that's what I hope I can offer to others.

It's so interesting to me, looking back from where I am today. I've dealt with frequent headaches for as long as I can remember. I had infrequent migraines, then, too (though, most of those were walks in the park compared to the migraines I've had since the accident). So much has changed, yet the love and provision of my God has stayed the same. He is always there.

This post was written as part of the National Health Blog Posting Month (NHBPM). Other bloggers will share their posts on this FB page.

Compassion in Greece

Yesterday, I posted about past anniversaries of my car accident:

• 3-Year Anniversary of Car Accident
• 4-Year Anniversary of Car Accident

October 10, 2013 marked the fifth anniversary of my car accident, here's what I wrote...

I had some anxiety leading up to today because I've had some difficulty on this day in the past. But, God blessed me with bringing a memory to my mind, reminding me that He always provides for my needs. Thanks to a Facebook post from my Alma Mater asking what our fondest memory of a certain professor is, I was able to re-live a moment that was painful, but comforting... and writing this blog post has allowed me to re-live beyond that moment.

Just a little back-story... I spent a semester studying abroad at my Alma Mater's campus near Rome. During the semester, the entire class and the Rome semester professors spend 10 days travelling together to a few different cities in Greece. Our Western Civilization professor offered amazing lectures at many of the sites along the way. It was truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I'm so grateful that I was able to participate!

The setting is Athens, Greece.

It was Carnival in the Eastern Orthodox Church (different date than the Western Christian calendar - think Mardi Gras), so the city was a big celebration. I decided to join the celebration in the evening with a group of friends - we were going to spend some time enjoying the festivities and try to find somewhere open to get something to eat.

After wandering around the city for a while, a migraine hit... HARD.

All I could think of was how am I going to get out of this crowd of people and back to the hotel?! I mentioned that I needed to leave immediately to my friends, and thankfully one of the guys said that he'd walk me back to the hotel and make sure I was okay. I told him I needed to get something to eat and something with caffeine to drink - we were able to find a Coke quickly, and then we stopped at the McDonald's just around the corner from the hotel for some chicken nuggets.

Unfortunately, I think I'd forgotten my migraine medication back at the Rome campus. See, these were before the days of chronic migraines... before the days of carrying my meds everywhere I go. I had frequent headaches, but was able to function through most of them. But, my more severe migraines weren't all that often. So, getting something to eat, caffeine to drink, and getting back to a dark / quiet hotel room was my plan of attack.

The girls I happened to be roomed with for those few days were understanding and helped however they could. But, the migraine continued.

If my memory serves me well... I spent the next day in the hotel room, doing my best to sleep off the pain. Honestly, I'm not exactly sure what all happened, but I'm pretty sure I missed out on some things. A large group of us went to church service that evening for Ash Wednesday (in the Eastern Orthodox Church). I struggled making it through the service, and talked with a professor's wife afterward to see if she happened to have any medicine that might help. Again, these were before the days that over-the-counter meds were the equivalent to tic-tacs for me. She didn't have anything, but apparently one of the professors (or his fiance) dealt with migraines and had some meds and knowledge of migraine. 

I talked with this professor, and he helped get me some meds and made sure I was going to be okay. He told me that I'd be excused from the following day's class trip to the Acropolis. I told him that there was NO way that I was going to miss that trip! How could I miss a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity like that?!?! He assured me that he'd help any way he could, if I decided to go the following day.

He checked on me the next morning at breakfast. I was still in quite a lot of pain, but was beyond determined to go with the group. So, he gave me a few suggestions on how to make it through the day outside in the blinding sun. I had sunglasses, a borrowed hat, a jacket or blanket draped over my head... luckily, we'd walk a bit and then stop and sit for lectures at various locations. He checked on me off and on throughout the day. I listened to him lecture. Someone helped make sure I was alright walking places. And, I peeked my head out to see the sites as much as I possibly could.

The Acropolis is one of the MOST interesting and beautiful sites I've ever seen! I would have deeply regretted missing the opportunity to visit it, so I'm glad that I was able to push through the pain and participate as much as I could. To this day, Greece (especially the Acropolis in Athens) is one of my favorite places in the world!

*I'm going to post a follow-up post to this later today, to share a few more reflections... so, please stay tuned.

This post was written as part of the National Health Blog Posting Month (NHBPM). Other bloggers will share their posts on this FB page.

Do You Love Me?

I have to be honest. It's been a long time since I've felt... I mean, really felt the spirit move in and through me. But, at this moment, despite the throbbing pain of a migraine that's ramping up and knowing that I'm going to be sidelined for the majority of the day, I feel alive! I feel the spirit churning in me, and pushing to come out. So, I turned on the computer to let the words flow through my fingers.

I have been feeling guilty and have been very hard on myself for a really long time. You see, I haven't been to church in longer than I care to admit - besides a couple visits here and there, it's probably been a few years now. It breaks my heart, as church and my family / church family (my family and I are members of the same church) has always been a constant rock in my life. But, I have a lot of difficulty with many aspects of the church-going experience, so here I am.

I miss it. I miss being surrounded by others that love Christ. I miss the Scripture, the songs, the sermons, the community. I miss feeling His presence.

My church has been streaming podcasts of the weekly sermons for a while now. I started listening to them, when they first started, but I haven't stayed disciplined in listening to them. For whatever reason, I decided to pull one up this morning and listen to it. Where should I start? At the beginning? The most recent? So, I just kinda randomly chose one... it ended up being the sermon from May 5, 2013. Wow!

The sermon speaks to how Jesus Christ came to simplify our lives and our faith. We are called as God's people to live and love simply.

I've been thinking a lot about this idea of living simply, as I definitely do not. I over-complicate and over-analyze my life so much!

We over-complicate life, and Christ came to simplify it. We over-complicate our relationship with God, and Christ wants it more simple. We over-complicate forgiving other people (perhaps most of all, ourselves), loving other people... and it's all really simple. Christ came so that all are forgiven and loved. All we have to do is accept it and offer it to others. Simple. But, simple is not easy. A simple life of faith is not easy.

It's easier to only love and forgive certain people (for example, people that think or believe what we believe), but it's simpler to love and forgive everyone. And, we're called, as God's people, to love and forgive everyone - just as God loves and forgives us, unconditionally. It's not easy to love everyone unconditionally, but it's simpler.

Take, for example, Simon Peter. Simon Peter publicly and blatantly denies knowing Jesus three times (John 18:15-27). In a stark difference from the rules and regulations of the day to cleanse and repent for denying God, Jesus responds by asking a simple question... "Do you love me?" (John 21:15-17).

In order to be made holy and righteous, and be reconnected and back in relation with God, all He asks is, "Do you love me?" The only other thing we're asked to do is to simply go love and forgive others the way we've been loved and forgiven by God.

No matter how much we've messed up, how far we've strayed, what we've done... if we want to be forgiven by God and be in a relationship with God, all we have to do is answer this question:

Do you love Me, and will you go and love other people the way I've loved you?  ~God

Wow! What a huge release of so much guilt, disappointment, and hate that I've held toward myself. There's nothing difficult that I have to do to try to make things right between God and me. I love God, and I do my best to share His love and forgiveness with others. I feel like not being able to make it to church has somehow stifled my relationship with Him, but maybe He's growing me in different ways right now. I do hope to be able to rejoin my church community in weekly worship and service, but I'm trying to find peace in doing what I can right now... growing my relationship with God from where I am, knowing that the Lord of All has the reigns in my life.

All we have to do is accept God's unconditional love and forgiveness in our lives, and then go offer it to other people. That's it. So simple! 

A Life-Affirming Visit

You know those amazing, life-affirming visits with someone (be it a friend or a stranger), where you leave feeling that your soul has been refreshed / renewed?

I had one of those Sunday night. I had a chance to visit with a long-time friend of the family, who I only get to see every four or five years. She happened to be in town for a few days, and I (thankfully) was feeling well enough to visit a bit with her and some of my family.

She and I chatted with one another for a little while, and I feel that we connected in a special way. She shared with me how she saw me before the chronic migraines (very active and busy, an intellectual, etc), and then recognized and allowed me to talk about the difficulties that have come with learning to live life with so much pain and so many limitations. She said she knows I've always been determined and strong, and that she knows I'll do my best to be and live as well as possible.

She shared bits of wisdom that she's learned over a lifetime of experiences... bits of wisdom that seem so simple and basic, but are truly life-changing:

• Listen carefully to your body.
• Do what feels right to and for you (call it your gut, instinct, or just a feeling).
• Be okay / comfortable with the decisions you make.
• What others say to / about you is about them, not you.
• Don't spend precious time and energy on wasteful things. 

• such as, thinking or worrying about... what others say to/about you, expectations of self and others (what you should be doing), what may or may not happen, and other things that are out of our control.

• There is meaning and purpose in life, even when it doesn't feel like there is.
• The faith that we gain during times of struggle are priceless.

I'm sure there are other things that'll keep coming to mind, as the words shared between us play in my mind further. There were aspects of this journey that I haven't talked about in quite a long time (like identifying myself with my intellect, and the loss of that when I struggled with and then decided not to continue graduate school). It was interesting for me to see what I've dealt and come to terms with, and what is still a little raw to talk about. I know that this is all a journey, and it was nice to share parts of my journey with this friend.

I feel validated and better understood. I also feel a renewed sense of hope and direction that feels great!

I count myself so blessed to have this person in my life, and that she was willing to spend some time sharing with and really listening to me. My heart is filled with gratitude!

Holiday Update & Triggers

Well, I've clearly not kept up with this month's blogging challenge. :-/ I am trying to get several posts finished up, so I can publish them here soon - it's just taking me longer to do anything right now.

I've been dealing with some migraine triggers - some controllable (time with family), some not (weather), and some in-between (sleep). I think I did well avoiding food / drink triggers, even over the holidays.

Weather - The weather has been a crazy roller coaster, and the frequent temperature drops have been difficult for my head pain.

Sleep - I've been having a different kind of struggle with sleep lately. Sometimes I wake up early and can't get back to sleep, and sometimes I sleep into the afternoon. Sometimes I'm up late, and sometimes I can hardly make it through the evening awake. This past weekend, for example, I slept a lot. Sunday, I was only awake for about 8 of the 24 hours, and I still felt so tired.

Family - No doubt, I've pushed myself quite a lot over the past few weeks, and I've been paying the price for doing so. But, I'm grateful for getting to visit with my sister (who was in town for a week), and my family (immediate and extended).

I've been trying my best to stay in the present moment, and to enjoy and be grateful for the time I have been able to spend time with loved ones.

This post was written as part of the National Health Blog Posting Month (NHBPM). Other bloggers will share their posts on this FB page.

Caregivers: My Husband

© 2009 Jamie V.

My husband and I were married a year after my accident. We had been dating for over six years, when he proposed just little under two months before the accident.

While we were going out, Jeremy had taken care of me through seasonal sickness (colds, etc). So, I knew that he could be a good caregiver, at least on a short-term basis.

Once I was in the car accident, I hated to think that he'd be immediately placed into a caregiver role, once we were married. We knew that our married life wouldn't look like many other marriages between people our age. We were okay with that, though, because our entire relationship had "looked different" - our relationship was long-distance for almost 6.5 years, including the two months immediately following our wedding. But, it has worked for us (which isn't to say that it's been easy).

Jeremy has proven to be the perfect person for me in so many ways - my friend, my husband, my caregiver. I am truly BLESSED! He is loving, caring, supportive, perceptive.

He's always taken such good care of me. And, since I've been dealing with my chronic migraines, he's only done more. He allows me the freedom to do what I can and to try doing more / to regain some independence, but he takes care of the things that I cannot do anymore or that I'm struggling with due to the migraines.

He takes care of our Honey Bee (dog), and he takes care of the house chores (I try to help as much as I'm able). He often goes grocery shopping and cooks for us.

He's my biggest cheerleader, when I try doing more (though he helps me to not overdo it) and / or try things that I've struggled with since the accident. He helps remind me to celebrate even the smallest of accomplishments and to be thankful for what I have and what I can do.

© 2012 Jamie V.

Jeremy makes sure I take my medications on schedule. He works from home, if I'm starting a new medication or am dealing with a particularly bad migraine. He goes with me to all of my doctor appointments. He helps me determine when I should use my migraine meds, and when I need to get emergency care.

He knows me so well... the me behind the mask. He's been there for me through the best and the worst times. I feel his love through everything he does. And, I try my hardest to share my love with him in everything I do.

I know that God has placed Jeremy in my life to be my lifelong partner, and I'm so very grateful for him.

This post was written as part of the National Health Blog Posting Month (NHBPM), as well as the November PFAM blog carnival.

Caregivers: My Parents

My parents have always been a huge support to me. When I was in a car accident in October 2008, I needed to move back in to my parents' house. They became my primary caregivers, as my mind and body tried to heal.

There are some things in those first few months that are pretty blurry - I remember the day of the accident very well, but several months after the accident are only accounted for by my incessant note-taking of everything and my parents' notes and memories.

What I do recall, is that my parents were always there for me (as has been the case my entire life).

• My mom went with me to every doctor appointment (and there were A LOT!) and meeting with the attorney, for at least the first year after the accident. She took notes during visits and asked questions that I either forgot or didn't think to ask. She was my caregiver and my advocate, and I feel that we grew even closer under very difficult circumstances. She continues to be a support by asking how things are going, asking for updates on how doctor appointments go, and being understanding of my limitations and needs.

• My dad (and my father-in-law) came down to College Station to pick me and my car up (weekend of the accident). My dad offered care and support in different ways than my mom, but still so very needed. He had a car accident several years before that changed his life, too. He helped me to accept and work within the limitations that my illness placed on me (including breaking tasks down into baby steps), and to be able to ask for help (neither of us has ever been good at). We've always understood and related to one another in a special way, and this was just a different situation that we shared.

I will be forever grateful for my parents love, care, and support! I know that caring for me at some of my darkest points, and seeing me struggle so much with things much deeper than the pain, was extremely difficult for them. But, their presence and unconditional love will never be forgotten. Their unwavering love and support helped me through, as it continues to do.

This post was written as part of the National Health Blog Posting Month (NHBPM), as well as the November PFAM blog carnival.

Migraine Awareness Month Blogging Challenge #29: Chronic Migraine Awareness Day

Today is Chronic Migraine Awareness Day. Apparently, I'm recognizing today with a low-grade Migraine (at least it's not full-blown, though).

According to the International Headache Society, Chronic Migraine is "Migraine headache occurring on 15 or more days per month for more than 3 months in the absence of medication overuse" (ICHD-II).

There are many different acts of kindness that can be done for those living with Chronic Migraine, including:

• Offer to go to the doctor with a Migraineur and offer to take notes for them.
• Offer to help with food - prepare and deliver a meal for their family; fix a few frozen meals that can be easily reheated; help with grocery shopping (either go with or offer to pick up a some items for them).
• Offer to help around the house (laundry, cleaning, help finishing an unfinished project).
• Offer to watch a Migraineur's child(ren) for a few hours.
• Offer to have a spontaneous outing on their next good day... whenever that might be (even if it's just a quick outing for sno-cones - mmm, sno-cones).

Many Migraineurs are dealing with feelings of helplessness, and it can be extremely difficult to ask for help. So, it helps to keep offers specific - "Let me know if you need anything" or "Can I do anything to help?" will rarely result in someone reaching out and asking for that help because they're simply overwhelming. Also, please be sincere. If you're not willing to prepare a meal, don't offer to do it - if you offer and don't follow through, think of how the Migraineur feels after allowing him/herself to be vulnerable and accept your offer of help.

Remember, even small gestures of kindness can mean so very much.

Really, I think the things Migraineurs would truly cherish most are things that we ALL need (healthy or disabled, young or old) - companionship / love, comfort, understanding, and support. Here are some ways to show the Migraineur in your life that you care:

• Be forgiving and understanding when we have to cancel (even last minute) plans - Believe me, we hate to cancel plans more than you hate that we had to cancel - many of us have quite a lot of guilt built up around letting others down.
• Have at least a basic understanding of what Migraine disease really is - it's NOT "just a headache," it's a neurological disorder that affects every system of the body - and please help us dispel the misunderstandings and stigmatization surrounding Migraine disease.
• Be mindful of our needs - to avoid bright lighting (for example, when sitting down at a restaurant), scents/smells (including perfume, lotions, candles, air fresheners, etc), noise/crowds (for example, I can't deal with going to a club or concert), food sensitivities (migraine-friendly food / drinks) - I know this is a lot to try to remember, but simply asking if there's anything you can do to help reduce some of our triggers can mean so much (and help us to enjoy themselves more).
• Keep in touch - a quick email, text message, letter, etc can brighten our day (even if it's just to let us know that you're thinking of us) - we care about what's going on in your life, too.
• Help us remember that there's always hope and we are loved, despite our disability.

A fellow chronic Migraineur wrote a letter to people without Migraine that I think is very well-written. Please take a few minutes to read it, here. I share her sentiment: "I do not want your pity or even your sympathy. I want you to have even the tiniest grasp that migraine is not a headache... [I] beg for a smidgen of your comprehension" (Kerrie Smyres).

This post was written as part of the Migraine Awareness Month Blogging Challenge (MAMBC), which is initiated by www.FightingHeadacheDisorders.com and the National Migraine Awareness Month is initiated by the National Headache Foundation (NHF).

Migraine Awareness Month Blogging Challenge #27: In My Head & Heart

There are several people that inspire me to keep trying and not give up, despite my Migraines.

My Husband - Jeremy has always been a huge support and encouraging partner. He tries his best to understand my Migraines. He goes with me to doctor appointments. He's truly seen me at my worst... and he loves me anyway.

He knows that in my heart, I don't want to give up... and he reminds me of that. He cheers me on, even when the achievement is seemingly minor. He helps me so much (with tasks around the house, etc), but he encourages me to do what I need to so that I can live the best quality life I can with this disease (sometimes that means challenging myself to do something I haven't done in a while). He doesn't make me feel bad for my memory problems, my inability to help more around the house, having to cancel plans at the last minute, and so many other limitations I now have.

He helps me hold onto hope, and I'm so very grateful that he's my life partner.

My Family - My family has always been behind me, supporting and encouraging me. I lived with my parents for a little while following the accident, so they've seen me through some very dark times. I don't really remember much about the months after the accident (I literally had to write things down as they happened, or they'd be gone forever), but I know that I couldn't have made it through without them.

My mom went with me to all of my doctor appointments for at least the first year after the accident, and always asks for updates on how appointments went. My dad is always such a calming presence in my life, and I know that he knows and understands me in ways that many others don't. My sister has also been a so supportive and encouraging, and it means the world to me.

My family is my solid foundation and constant in the midst of life's storms, and I'm so very blessed to have them behind me no matter what.

My Friends - I rarely communicate with most of my friends. But, I do have a friend or two that have taken some steps to try to better understand Migraine and my experience living with it - and I'm so grateful that they have. They don't mind if I need to keep the lights low, keep my sunglasses on, and they show compassion (but, thankfully, not pity). I know that they're busy with their own lives, but I cherish the times I get to chat with them (in person, on the phone, texts, email, snail mail - any way that we can communicate). 

Online support communities

My Online Friends - I've met some dear friends in the online world, most that I probably never would've been blessed to know without the common link of Migraine. They have provided me strength, support, hope, prayers, and friendship. I can always count on them to understand and accept me the way that I am. They've helped me through some of the roughest times; but they're also there to cheer me on, celebrate achievements (no matter how small), and to offer words of kindness and love.

My Stubborn Self - I've always been a persistent and determined person. I won't stop trying to find relief. But, meanwhile, I'm trying to create and maintain a life that includes living within my current limitations. I'll never give up hope - I may have trouble holding on sometimes, but I have a support system that will hold onto hope when it's slipping from me.

My Faith / My God - I put up a wall and was so angry with God for some time after my accident. But, at some point, I came around and have been trying to trust Him more (this isn't to say that I never feel frustrated or angry with God, but it's much less frequently and shorter-lived).

God has provided for me / us in so many different ways. He provided for us financially through times with mounting medical costs and Jeremy being unemployed. He continues to give me the strength to make it through each moment. He blesses me in so many different ways, despite my chronic Migraines.

I don't understand why God brought me to this place of chronic pain. But, I'm trusting Him to work in and through me. I can't say that I'm happy to be a chronic Migraineur, but it's bringing me closer to my God and some of my family... it's made me slow down and live more "in the moment / in the now"... it's helping me to embrace and cherish the good moments, and try hard to let go of the moments that try to consume me... and it's reminding me to be filled with gratitude, even for simple or small blessings.

I believe that sometimes the greatest blessings are born out of brokenness.

This post was written as part of the Migraine Awareness Month Blogging Challenge (MAMBC), which is initiated by www.FightingHeadacheDisorders.com and the National Migraine Awareness Month is initiated by the National Headache Foundation (NHF).