Who I am.

In a recent Internet search for any type of therapy I haven't tried (no luck), I came across a long-time chronic migraine sufferer (although I hate to use that word, sufferer; what's better, patient?) who said, "This illness isn't who I am."  She was very adamant about it, and it was like a huge life-changing epiphany she'd had.

That statement was true for me for the first 4-5 years with migraines, before they started to take over every aspect of my life.  Everyone who knew me didn't know I had a chronic illness.  I was still in control.

But then the migraine took over.  I didn't get to choose anymore.  Friends stopped inviting me to things because I was "the sick kid".  People whose names I didn't even know told me they were praying for me.  It wasn't that I was gone; I was still there, but the me people saw was shrouded by migraine.

Now, eleven years into this journey, when I meet new people (which is rare because of my limitations), I get excited about the prospect of being just Kaci, because they don't know, but migraine has become so ingrained into who I am that all it takes is one question or one missed social obligation and it's out there; I'm now migraine Kaci again.

I don't miss the just Kaci of eleven years ago.  She was young and dumb and entitled.  But I kind of like 27-year-old just Kaci, and I wish more people knew her. 

They say that if you want to see who a person truly is, watch them go through something hard.  The past 6 years has been my hard.  And it's allowed me to see who I really am.  I've grown tremendously.  But it's also created this shell around me--part coping mechanism, part stigma, part good-intentioned compassion--so that very few people ever see past the migraine surface.  Even close friends become afraid to get too close.

Sadly, my illness does define me in the eyes of most people who know me.  There's no way around it.  But through it all, He's making me into a better just Kaci, and if it's for no other purpose than to glorify Him, then that's okay.  He sees through the shell.