Most of the time I am cognizant that there is much in my life to be thankful for. Despite having had this migraine every day for the past ten months, despite being unable to pursue my dreams to their full potential, I realize I am generally healthy. I am blessed with a loving and devoted family, the world’s most cuddly cat, and a partner who spends his time actively trying to make me laugh every day. I am not sure how I became such a Pollyanna. I certainly wasn’t in the beginning. All I know is I seem to be able to keep a pretty cheery outlook most of the time.

Except when I don’t.

Yesterday I didn’t. It had been a bad pain week and I have had a cold so I am sure that played into it but yesterday found me sobbing for hours by myself in my room. Every single frustration and sorrow welled up and poured out and wouldn’t be reasoned with. I could not cheer myself up or calm myself down. Worst of all it was the dumbest thing in the world that set me off. Jealousy.

Yesterday my brother innocuously responded to a family email thread with the statement that he and his significant other both have really good jobs that pay pretty well. This statement is something a big sister is supposed to look at with pride and think “you go bro!” but I just sat there and stared at it. I read that sentence again and again and at some point realized I was crying, uncontrollably. I tried like to hell to figure out why the statement had set me off so badly and I finally reasoned I was crying because I wanted to have a really good job that pays pretty well. I was crying because I was jealous of my own brother.

I wish I could tell you that once I figured it out I was able to climb back into my Pollyanna outlook but unfortunately the discovery was something that crawled under my skin and lived there for the rest of the day. Each time I would begin to calm down and look for a distraction my mind would helpfully remind me that my career in law is stalled because I have a disability and can’t work. It would remind me that at nearly 40 I still need a driver. It would sigh over the plans I had and compare them to my new plans and point out the wide chasms between the two. It was a long day.

Finally after spending many hours feeling sorry for myself I ended up putting on Pride and Prejudice and losing myself in the victorian pursuit of eligible bachelors. I went to bed and put away the day.

As is true with most things I felt better after a good night’s sleep.

I suppose it’s normal and natural to have otherwise innocuous statements send you into a death spiral of despair, it just seemed so silly to respond this way.

I am trying to come to terms with being disabled.

I thought I had come to terms with that in the hospital when my doctors told me to forget looking for a cure and start focusing on management but I really had no idea the frustration, anger, and disappointment to come.

You see, I never sat in my window seat and daydreamed about having a chronic disability some day. I daydreamed about being a Supreme Court Justice, a movie star, and an all around enviable human being.

Wrapping my brain around the reality of my condition is humbling. I can accept on some level that my life has new limitations but the extent of them is making acceptance hard. I get panicky when I can’t work as much as I want to or feel I should and I get sad when I have to miss social occasions. I often feel as though I am missing out on so much.

It has to be missed though, I have to come to terms with this. As I ramp down off of the medication that keeps my migraine to a dull roar I realize this is my life. I had three and months of really low pain where I was able to accomplish some cool things. Now I have six weeks of ramp down time, a month-long medication “Holiday”, and then six weeks of ramp up time before I get to enjoy another three months of low pain. That is the nature of the beast. If I can stay on this medication  (if during my “holiday” my CatScans and MRI’s don’t show any fibrosis) then I will get approximately six months each year where my symptoms are under better control and I am able to accomplish more than I am the rest of the year.

I have to makeover my expectations and get comfortable with needing help, missing out on things, and not being able to work a traditional job.

Dan is a huge help here. His only requirement is that I do not give up. He is supportive of me finding ways to stay involved and active within the confines of my new limitations. He is proud of me for trying and values my contributions, even though they may only consist of packing his lunch, cooking dinner, and listening to him discuss his day when he arrives home.

I cannot stress enough how vital having this degree of acceptance is to me. He has accepted me with a whole heart, including the limitations my disability causes. His acceptance makes it easier for me to forgive myself for falling short of my own harsh and demanding expectations. In short, his acceptance has paved the way to mine.

I continue to try to redefine my life. I run three days a week and swim two. I try to eat well. I clean the house, make jewelry, work a few days a week, and contemplate writing a book. I snuggle the dog and cat and play with the children. I set aside spoons for Dan’s days off so I can spend time walking all over the city, driving into the mountains, or simply puttering about the house with him. I rest so I can push through the pain and remain involved in my life.

I should discover this October, right around my 40th Birthday, if I am going to be allowed to remain on this medication. If I can than I will live the next set of low pain months happily and use my time wisely towards my new goals. If I am not allowed to resume taking my medication then I will face additional challenges.

Either way it is time for me to makeover my expectations so that I can be my own helpmate. Indulging in disappointment, fear, and rage only saps my already limited energy.

If I cannot do the things I once dreamed of it is time for me to dream new things.

I began the Couch to 5K program about a month ago and let me tell you, running with a migraine is hard.

It’s hard, but it’s lovely. Running is the only place I feel strong and capable. I plod along keeping a steady pace and feel pleasure at something physically difficult that I can do. I even feel a lessening of symptoms for an hour or so after the run, which just makes me want to run again.

It’s wonderful.

So despite my deteriorating health situation I am training for a 5K. I hope to get to the point where I can run one in October. I turn 40 this October and I would like to celebrate with a long, hot, sweaty, run. I feel that running my first 5k is a good goal for my 40th year, and my second, third, etc.

I may be faltering but I am not giving up. I keep finding things I can do, to replace the things I can’t do. I will, eventually, reach a point where I am simply living my new life and no longer mourning my old one. That’s my goal anyway, to reach a place of acceptance for the gracious plenty in my life. My head may be weak but my legs are strong and they can carry me fast and far.

That’s something to be thankful for.