Well, I pretty much lost my shit in the Harris Teeter over the weekend. It's these headaches. I've hit a point where I feel like I just can't take another step in the pain fog I have been moving in. Some woman was mean to me in the parking lot, and what she did was totally irrelevant and ridiculous (and I was right by the way), but it hit me in that soft underbelly of vulnerability that I suspect we all have. Mine is particularly exposed these days. I could feel the tears start up almost instantly as I stuffed my reusable bags into the seat of the shopping cart, and my first thought was, "Well I haven't had a good cry in awhile."

My second thought was of course, "Oh please, not here."

I tried to muster on for a bit. Hoping that concentrating on what beer to get for Callum's cupcake party (yeah, you read that right) would push the tears back to a manageable place. (Just get in the car. Just get in the car. Just get in the car.). It didn't work. I looked at my half-full cart, knew that I couldn't face the woman behind the deli counter to order Neel's sandwich, and I had to get out of there.

Neel came to the drive way to help me bring in the groceries that weren't there, and as I sat there and sobbed, I felt like such a... loser. You know things aren't going well when your husband doesn't have shorts to wear to work because you haven't been able to do the laundry (Who among you is going to say, "Poor baby, put on some long pants?"). Or you don't have bread for toast or sandwiches because you can't take the five minutes to fill the bread machine? Or your son says, "I really hope you don't have a headache on my birthday." Aw man. I do not like it that the first question that Callum asks when he sees me is, "Do you have a headache?" These days, the answer is almost always yes.

I am behind in my work. I am behind in caring for my house. I am behind in loving my family. Callum's couldn't-be-easier-cornhole-in-the-frontyard-neighborhood-party felt nearly insurmountable to me because everything feels nearly insurmountable to me these days. That, almost more than the pain, is the hardest part of migraines, the sense of despair...the feeling that you'll never be able to do anything again. Ever.

So I'm back on the meds. This is some strong medication. You have to inch up on these things. Ease your body into them. No instant results. The past two days have not been pain free, but they've each had a few hours that were pain free. Progress, yes. Has the corner been turned? I hope so.