A few months back, I touched on this idea, but you see I wasn’t in the right place when I touched on it.
There’s this awful stigma about being happy and what needs to happen in your life for you to be happy. Being sick or disabled certainly doesn’t meet those requirements.
If you want to see the original post, click here… it’ll give you a little perspective, but I’m sure most of you have already seen it.
So, I lay out my crystals again. Apparently charging them under an eclipse isn’t the right thing to do, but that’s what I did and I never got around to putting them back out under the full moon.
I mean, it probably doesn’t matter as I use them as decorations… but wow lets just pause and admire their beauty.
I wanted to revisit this idea.
What is happiness?
Maybe it is enjoying things in my way and choosing to take the time for activities like yoga and watching the endless stream of college and pro football games.
But, I think the real answer is that happiness is simply peace.
I tried so hard to sit down and write about how disappointed I was in the new commercial for Aimovig, and I wrote and wrote and it just didn’t come together. Why? Turns out it’s a side note for today.
I’m sure you’ve all seen the new commercial where migraine patients are coming forward and walking back into their lives with the newfound opportunity to say “I am here”… great idea by the marketing group, but it’s clear it didn’t come from a migraine perspective.
My migraines allow me say I am here.
When I’m beaten down by the pain, confined to the couch because of my drowsiness and fatigue, hiding in the pitch black because even my hallway nightlight is too bright.. I am not screaming that I am here.
But, days when I wake up without being met with pain, days where my coffee is extra strong and I can peacefully drink it for as long as I’d like, days where I’ve got a tad bit of energy and may take the time to paint on my face enjoying the way my makeup blends and the simple gestures involved in getting two perfectly symmetrical wings…
Days where I can sit through dinner and stay a little longer extending the conversation. Afternoons spent at my best friends house talking about everything under the sun. Days where I venture a little further into town than I normally would and take in the incredible view of the old oak trees draping over the road creating a tunnel.
I can say I am here.
I don’t need Aimovig to say that. Aimovig may give many the option to say it a bit more often, but us migraine patients are some of the fortunate few that don’t have to push ourselves to enjoy the now.
We learned long ago that when we’ve got those little moments and brief bouts of energy, we’ve got to use them or we’re going to lose them. And to me, that’s what the idea of “I am here” is truly about.
I think the problem I struggle with isn’t that I’m not happy or that I haven’t long come to terms with what my life with migraine means, I struggle with everyone else. And that struggle plays a big part into why I don’t always choose to spend my good days anywhere near other people, or even let other people know that I’m having them.
Right now, we live in a world where mental health issues are being over diagnosed. They’re over talked about. They aren’t spoken about with accuracy. And a large portion of the population encounters people using the issue to seek attention rather than the individuals who truly need help, support, and love.
But with everyone being sad, everyone buzzing around the word “trauma”, everyone pushing people to seek therapy, everyone playing a hand in the matter, it isn’t a wonder that people don’t know how to respond to me.
Yes, there are lots of days where I feel absolutely broken. There are days where I find myself mourning the life I had. There are days where I am so utterly alone that my mind wanders. And there are certainly days where the idea of physically removing my head with an axe seems like a very viable option. That isn’t depression. That isn’t being suicidal.
If anything, it’s my brain using the same kind of sarcastic humor that I do in an attempt to remind myself that I need to keep my head up.
People always tell me to check in if I need to. They mean well, and I know they do. But when I check in, I check in with my keyboard and lay out my thoughts and frustrations here. This is my therapy. And nothing warms my heart more than people who see one of my posts and lets me know that they read it.
I don’t have some magical solution to just be happy because that isn’t a thing. We have to make a choice. And as someone not bombarded with voices in my head making me feel worthless, making me question why I keep fighting, or making me feel like bogged down, I can’t speak on the topic of mental health. It simply wouldn’t have any merit.
Through all of this, my head space has remained in a much better space than the crazy neurons firing pain within my head.
And I guess all I’m asking is for you to be okay with that.
Be okay with how I choose to spend my better days.
Be okay with me accepting this condition and choosing to work with it rather than against it without asking for pity from those around me.
I need you to be okay with it. I respond with positive energy and my strength when I’m treated human and equal. But when you meet me with pity and how sorry you am for me, I feel like one of those rolly-polly bugs curling up and trying to avoid all further contact. I don’t know how to respond to assumptions about how I should be dealing with something, when they aren’t based in my experience. I don’t know how to interact with someone who cannot separate the mental health assumptions they’ve made about me from my actual frame of mind.
My positivity is perhaps just peace, peace that I want to share.
Trust me, my parents get the angry brunt of my pain and my frustration with medications and doctors. There is plenty of negativity. Plenty of anger.
Hell, if you did take the time to glance back at my old positivity piece the frustration and irritation is very clear within my diction and formatting.
But the point is, even through the bad days, I have to come back to the peace.
We’ve all got plenty of places we can grow, plenty of opportunity to be better when it comes to various things such as how we channel our anger and frustration. But we also have the opportunity to to find more happiness, or respond from a place of peace.
I know I’m more alone in this situation when it comes to the chronically ill community. I know I’m one of the luckier few in this aspect.
But, for those of you stuck, cooped up, in pain, fighting whatever demons you’ve got, I invite you to try and venture into my head space even if its just for a little while.
When someone says something that makes you angry because it’s something you can’t do, assume that they’re in the same situation that you’re in. Don’t force your situation onto them because they should be more thankful. Or they should understand better. Don’t diminish someone else’s situation or try and prop your situation on some higher up tier. We can’t compare pain, because we all have our pain charts.
Put on your favorite records.
Brew your favorite coffee. Cozy up with your cup of chai and enjoy your favorite movie or book. Try and ignore how difficult it is to hold a cup of chai while also turning pages in said book.
Find something in this world that brings a smile to your face and surround yourself with it.
Most importantly, when you find yourself angry or rubbed the wrong, allow yourself to feel it fully and then allow yourself to let it go.
It’s okay to not celebrate the sunshine. Because it isn’t the only source of light.
There’s also the moon.
And if it’s especially dark, there’s a million stars just waiting to say hello.