I’m in my recliner chair, in the dark, with a migraine. Honestly, the back light from my computer hurts to look at right now.

I know tonight’s migraine is stress induced. I got worked up over a meeting I had this afternoon. I’m still anxious about being on campus and interacting with certain people.

I’ve been in a vicious cycle lately.

Anxiety. Not sleeping. Exhaustion. Anxiety. Not sleeping. Exhaustion.

Crying is in there somewhere too.

Tonight’s migraine is a result of this endlessly terrible cycle.

Thursday I had a panic attack. I didn’t sleep that night.

Friday night I had a nightmare.

Saturday night, another nightmare.

Sunday night was the worst of all.

Paranoia has taken over since then.

I’m on high alert. My anxiety is in overdrive.

All of this is a cocktail recipe for exhaustion. And ultimately migraines.

I’ve suffered from migraines since I was a baby. I consider myself to live with chronic migraine, even though I’ve not been formally diagnosed. I get them frequently, painfully, and paralyzingly.

I used to be on medication. But only as a child. I’ve not been on medication for years.

Tonight, I’m trying my best to not turn to bad medicine. But the aura is likely to win me over.

I see windmills in my eyes. My head is pounding. I’m nauseous. I hate vomiting, but I feel it coming tonight.

I wouldn’t wish any of this on my worst enemy.

I don’t just mean the migraines.

Communicator. Educator. Empath. Survivor. Writer.