Sunday, July 8, 2012

The Next Hell...

I know I'm not the only person in the world who's suffering, but on days like today - I feel completely alone, detached from the living, disassociated from the planet...all because of a migraine.

Maybe you've had a bad headache before, you remember the dull ache like an unwelcome dinner guest. You take a few aspirin or acetaminophen and in a little while all is well in your world again. That's not the kind of headache I'm talking about. Excuse me as I wallow in self pity a moment, but the need to express my profound pain and absolute weariness of it has driven me to this cliff of despair. I feel defeated.

For 25 years I have experienced something akin to a stroke several times a month. For the last 18 of those years I have taken prescription pills, nasal sprays, oral disintegrating tablets and finally, painful shots to relieve the massive pain that whispers its desire to take my life. This excruciating pain that lies deep in my head, often behind one eye ball or the other, mocks me. Tsunami-like waves of nausea accompany violent episodes of retching with painful attempts at speaking, breathing or seeing. Hearing, smelling, seeing; all torturous senses to a person with a migraine. The slightest touch or sound has me cursing life and begging for a quick end that never comes.

Even after administering the searing shot in my thigh, the pain intensifies the stroke-like episode for another 15 horrifying minutes or so. I can feel the burning sensation that is the cerebral vascular constrictor medication coursing through every vein, artery and blood vessel in my body. Only then can my clinched fists relax, only then can sweet sleep finally take me.

Several hours later, I'll stir, but I'm never the same. For somewhere in the misery that is a migraine, part of me has been stolen. Little pieces of my soul are sliced away with each episode and with it, my peace, my happiness and my hope. What's left of me is an empty, hollow shell that can't make a complete sentence and feels fragile, used-up and weary.

With no strength to cry, I sit. Already dreading the next hell within.


  1. Ah Betsy! I am SO sorry you've experienced another one of those nasty migraines! I do hope you recover soon! BUT I do have to disagree with one of your points in the blog. Those migraines may steal your sensibilities for a few hours but each time, you rebound to be the same ol Betsy. I have never been with you when your sense of humor didn't leave me laughing in hysterics, when your dead-on honesty didn't leave me thankful that I'm on your "good side" and your smile didn't brighten my day. Don't let that demon of migraines deceive you into thinking it's getting the best of you. It can never take away the REAL Betsy for long.

    1. Jennie, I know I already sent you a private reply, but I wanted to make sure everyone knows how much your comments meant to me. You have been the truest of friends throughout the years. With a kind word or encouraging remark, sometimes a criticism, but always you've spoken with love. Thank you for lifting me up in prayer when I felt lost and alone, suffering and afraid. Thank you for being a real life Jesus freak. I love you!

  2. Oh, Betsy! I know how you feel! I get searing migraines and am incapacitated. Praying for you ~ it isn't fun.

  3. Tara,

    Thank you for sharing in my pain and for praying for me when I was hurting.

    You know, it's hard for me to picture you as being grown up. I still see you as that dark-haired, tiny girl with big, beautiful brown eyes following me around smiling constantly.
    I'm sorry you suffer from migraines too. I've heard it said that the meaner you are, the worse your head hurts...I doubt there is any truth to that where you are concerned, but me...well, let's just leave it at that.