Usually..

Sigh..

Me. I'm a pretty controlled person usually. I am consistent in my habits, responsiveness to stimuli, what I like and what I don't like. I am truly a creature of habit.. usually..

Habitual behavior keeps me in a routine. I usually go to sleep at the same time (thereabouts) and I get up at the same time (thereabouts). I work out on a schedule and eat on a schedule.

Usually.

Schedules help my migraines. A schedule puts my body in a rhythm that makes speedbumps and hurdles easier to overcome. I am usually really good at staying on my schedule. I'm self regulating.. stubborn.. and almost ritualistic with this.. usually.

Why? Because of the throbbing pain in my head that pays a visit when I don't. The two.. three.. four.. or five day boomer that parks its ass right between my ears and has its own personal NFL punter going at it with my cerebellum.

I know this. I live this.

Sigh..

So why do I stray from this? Its like there are times I feel like a child stuck at the kids table at the family dinner. I want to NOT be stuck in this schedule. There are times my schedule seems like my own personal albatross rather than my savior.

There are times I want to try that slice of pizza that's offered.. or that beautiful salad that most assuredly has been dosed with MSG to keep its perfect little leaves are sparkledy fresh looking. Or.. a piece of chocolate cake, warm from the oven where I baked it for my boy.

Why do I burst my own bubble? It's not that stupid emo-maso shit either. I don't enjoy the boomer afterwards. I don't create the environment that causes me to suffer. I didn't create the condition that makes me prone to these things rattling in my head.

I think its more feeling stifled. I think its more feeling like I can't or that somehow this makes me an inferior replacement for my former self. I think its a healthy, or even unhealthy at that, dose of of denial regarding my body's needs.

Its frustrating. Really fucking frustrating. I got this boomer last Thursday. I thought it was going away on Sunday.. it was fading. And then boom, we're back in the thick of it again this morning.

What kind of life is it to count the weeks between migraines? My aunt died a few months ago. A friend of mine saw me the day after and assumed I looked like I did because of a migraine. If i look ill, my coworkers say.. headache? And then, invariably, a good natured friend will offer suggestions or tell me that if I just did XYZ, it would help.

It makes me sad. It makes me sad to feel frail. To feel like I'm balancing on a ball.

Lord knows, I'm not that fucking graceful.