Therapy.

My means of therapy changes periodically. For a while it was buying and watching movies. At times it's been reading or music. For a short while it was blogging. Really it's anything low-energy that takes my mind off the pain. The past couple weeks I've had two means of therapy: antique shopping and making things.

I found this really great antique store in town and then went three times in one week. That has potential to get a little expensive, not to mention I'm filling my house with junk. And to quote my mom, I'm going to turn into "a quirky old lady at 22." I love it though. I find something new every time. Here are some things I've bought:

New centerpieces for my kitchen table. Yes, that's a lettuce. It's ceramic. It opens up and you can put things inside. My words as I cleaned it off: "How could anybody let this go?!" And the cow salt and pepper shakers--I talked myself out of buying them one day but had to go back for them. I couldn't resist.
I LOVE this hat. It's living on my lamp for the time being, but I'm going to wear it every chance I get. I already wore it once--yes, in public--twice if you count the day I wore it home from the store. It's such a good hat.I've also started making things. Gluing is very therapeutic. The great thing about making things is I can make things and give them away. People love it when you make things for them. I made Mom a Mother's Day gift. (can't put pictures of that on here.) Here's a picture of some real cute key hangers I made, though. One is for Christian so she doesn't keep losing her keys and locking herself out of her apartment.

Signs of a busy week.

Reasons I know it's an unusually busy week:

• My email inbox is flooded. I check email religiously.
• My apartment is disgusting. Cleaning is my favorite pasttime.
• I haven't blogged since Sunday. I normally blog as a means of procrastination, but even my procrastination has become productive. I procrastinate on one assignment by doing another.
  
• I'm using facebook for conducting business, not for pleasure.
• I walked from the second floor to the third floor yesterday on an errand, but on my way back I somehow ended up on the fourth floor. I took the stairs, not the elevator, by the way. Subconsciously I was avoiding my work, which was on the second floor.
• Monday around 8 PM I looked down and thought, Oh no, did I wear the same shirt two days in a row? No. Morning had just been that long ago.
• Right now I'm taking a much needed break on campus because my class got out early. I decided to stay here instead of driving home. My reasoning? I'd have to exert too much energy in the walk to my car. It would cancel out the break.

Friday is only one day away. I was going to count the hours and minutes... but that takes more energy than I can find at the moment.

Remembering.

I was looking through some old pictures today, and it made me a little sad remembering life the way it was before a constant headache. Of course, life had it's problems then, but you never remember those parts looking back. I only remember the energy and happiness. I remember dancing and football games and being outside. I remember friends and never being alone.

Maybe one day I'll look back on the phase of life I'm in now and only remember the good too. Maybe I'll remember it for the friends and family who prayed for me nonstop and took care of me when I was too weak to take care of myself. Maybe I'll remember the ways I've grown and all the things I've learned. Maybe I'll remember the great God who's brought me through it all--who's never failed me. Maybe. Hopefully.

Statistics can be comforting.

I've heard over and over again that 20% of women experience migraines. That's 2 out of every 10. That's a lot. Every time I hear that I think, if that many people have migraines, why is it so hard for me? I often look around the room and count, thinking, 6 other people in this room have migraines; they don't seem to complain. I've never distinguished between the occasional, maybe once-in-a-lifetime migraine some may have and the constant, debilitating migraines that I have. I read some statistics today to that effect and it helped me feel better about my situation. Even though migraines affect 20% of women in the population, only 4-5% experience chronic daily headaches. Chronic daily headache is defined as pain for at least four hours a day 15 days a year. Only 0.5% of people experience constant pain. That's 1 in 200.

I don't like having a medical condition that affects only 0.5% of the population. However, knowing that everybody and her mama doesn't have this and go on with her everyday life does make me feel better about the way it affects me. It makes me feel less like a baby.

By the way, these statistics came from Paula Kamen's book All in My Head. I guess it's plagiarism if I don't tell you that.

Frustrating.

I felt really great for a few weeks--almost as great as my pre-migraine days. This week hasn't been so gracious, though. Out of nowhere I got a killer migraine Tuesday night that won't go away. It's really frustrating. It's always 3 steps forward and 2 steps back. I am getting better. I'm not back to where I was; I'm just not as well as I'd hoped. I get so excited about feeling good that setbacks like this are really hard. One day at a time--that's how I have to take it. Maybe tomorrow will be good again.

Hide and seek.

I keep losing little June. I always find her, though... under the couch.



She loves it there. When she wants to play, she runs around and explores under the couch. When she's tired, she sleeps under the couch. When she gets bored with one couch, she moves on to the other; except the second couch is too low to the ground for her to fit under, so she puts just her head underneath and cries about not being able to fit. It's so cute. The picture doesn't do it justice.

Real.

I'm always fascinated with the ways in which the Lord speaks to me and reveals things to me. I'm in awe every time. Lately he's been answering prayers and giving me confirmation in some really explicit ways.

First, I was feeling a little down and wanted to run to a friend, but the Lord reminded me that I needed to go to Him first for comfort. I sat down and began writing out a prayer, telling the Lord how I felt and asking for comfort. I was in mid-sentence telling Him I kept resisting the urge to call my best friend when my phone rang--it was her. It was just the comfort I needed and the comfort I craved, and He gave it to me as soon as I went to Him.

The second had less immediate gratification. I've been praying for weeks now about whether I should be president of my sorority next year. We had nominations two weeks ago, and I was nominated along with five or six other girls. I've still been praying that the Lord would show me if I should run for the position and put the right girl in the position even if it's not me. We have elections later tonight. As of this morning, all the other girls have taken their names off the ballot for president. It's just me. Talk about confirmation.

I think we often have this picture of God that He listens to our prayers and even answers them, but that he does so in an ambiguous way that's hard to understand and we won't see His voice or hand until months or years later. Sometimes that's true; but sometimes His answers and His provision are just as explicit and concrete as if coming from a friend. He's real. His love is real. His provision is real.

There's hope.

I did three things this weekend that I never thought I would be able to do ever again because of migraines:

1. I went to a movie. In 3D. (How to Train Your Dragon. I highly recommend it.)
2. I went to a concert. (Derek Webb. Also highly recommended. The concert was acoustic and outside, which made it migraine-friendly.)
3. I went to church. Big, loud church.

My head does hurt, and I'm really tired; but I feel better than I did on even a normal day a few weeks ago. If you had asked me in October, I would have told you I was going to be stuck inside alone in my pj's for the rest of my life. I'm miles better than I was then, and getting better every day. It's looking like I'm going to be able to lead a normal life someday--and someday soon.