I saw my doctor yesterday. She's very nice and to be honest, she's the only doctor who has actually done anything to try and help me. But I left her office pretty upset yesterday. She put me back on that horrible birth control that gives me migraines, this time for 5 days instead of 7. But as soon as the 5 days are up, I have to start taking another 'high dose hormone' birth control every day. On top of that, she's sending me to get a sonogram and then to an obgyn. Since I can't afford specialty doctors or tests like this, she's sent me on vouchers. I don't know how much those vouchers actually cover. I just hope it's everything because other wise, I can't afford to go. And none of which I am looking forward to. I am however, thankful for her persistence in trying to help me.
So, today hasn't been a good day. I woke up with upset, hot, and nauseated around 4:30 am. I got up, had some tea, drank some water, and sat in the living room with the air conditioner on for a bit before going to bed, where I tossed and turned for awhile. I did manage to get back to sleep. However, when I awoke again it was with a migraine. The only bonus was that I finally had an idea of what my thesis statement would be and how I would write my Humanities paper. I will start on it as soon as I am finished writing this blog. I really have to get that paper done today because tomorrow I know I will feel worse.
To go along with the migraine, I'm already having roller-coaster mood swings, and I've already cried once. Part of me just wants to shut the world out and return to bed. I feel like it's a live inside my own head kind of day- not the wallow in my physical and emotional pain sort of way- but a different kind of way. Sometimes, when things get to be too much or I just need some time to myself, I tell myself a story and I spend all day doing it. It is not always happy and not always sad, but something that just lets me be and relax, and get lost for a little bit. No one can hurt me, no one can bother me, it is just me disconnected from everything else (except the cats), living somewhere else. And it's really nice. The control that affords is liberating. Of course, I let my imagination run away with itself, but there is still a semblance of control.
Of course this is no way to live and I would miss out on the people, things, and opportunities of my real life if I did this sort of thing everyday. I don't do it very often but usually when I do I get some story ideas out of it. Better yet, I always feel a little better. Which is strange, because I hate wasting the day or wasting time, especially when I need to get some things done. Unfortunately, I can go play in my own head until after this paper is finished. One page is already written, yay!