Migraine Tears

What a relief. Finally my migraine has gone away. I woke up this morning with it. I had a feeling it was going to be a bad one as soon as I woke up, but I thought my prescription would take care of it. At 6am I had my first dose and went back to sleep. It didn't touch it. When I woke up again, it was at least the same intensity it had been before. Another dose. I'm not allowed more than 2. That is unusual for me, for my headaches not to go away. Ever since I have seen a neurologist for my migraines, we have been able to clear up my headaches in about 30 minutes after taking medication. I think there was something different about this one...

Yesterday I cried. A lot. I actually was hyperventilating to the point where my arms were going numb. It was starting to scare me too. I reached out for help.

When I was a kid, I remember three specific incidents of crying this hard and hyperventilating (I never hyperventilated when crying over Addison, that is a heart break cry). The first time, I was in 6th grade honors reading. Our teacher used to write our homework on one side of the board, and our class work on the other. One day though, she wrote our next day's class work on the board. I had gotten confused and wrote it down as homework. I completed it that night. The next day when we started to get ready for class, I realized what I had done. I informed our teacher. She was furious. She ridiculed me in front of the entire class. I don't remember the words she said but I do remember everyone staring at me and her sending me out of class to get my composure in the bathroom after she was done. It hurt for weeks though. My confidence was broken.

The second time it happened was senior year. Being a pretty smart kid, I skipped a few years of math. I was in calculus simply to fill a math slot but I didn't need it to graduate. I was struggling though. I was always gifted at math but I was never in AP. I just skipped the easy levels. I still needed to be taught concepts. So this AP calculus was terrible. There was only one teacher in the entire school who taught it. Anytime I asked a question, she responded with another question. Why couldn't she just tell me the answer? I felt so embarrassed asking questions in class. It was obvious that I was falling behind. Two weeks passed and the first test came up. I was not at all prepared despite the intensive studying I had done. The teacher passed out the exam and I just stared at it. It was jiberish. I didn't know what to do. You can't even hope for the best when it's fill in the blank and not multiple choice. I wrote at the top of the test, "I don't understand". I grabbed my planner and had the teacher sign for me to go to the bathroom as I handed her the exam. Once arriving in the ladies room, I called my mom to come pick me up from school. I didn't give her a choice. I was not going back to that class room. After speaking to her through gasps of sobbing, I went to inform the clinic that my mom was on her way and that I was not going back to class. The nurse was very kind as I told her what happened. She tried to console me but ended up sending me to the counselor's office. I love that counselor. She and I knew each other a bit outside of school as well and she understood my tender heart. As my mom drove to the school, we worked to find another class I could take instead of calculus. I guess at some point, someone informed my teacher that I was not just in the bathroom. She came into the counselor's office at the end of the period and said she was so sorry I was struggling. She reassured me that we could work together to make sure I passed. I could go in before and after school.... But I didn't want to devote my life to calculus. I didn't even need it for the college degree I wanted. So I never went back to that class.

The next time it happened, I was later in the semester. I can't remember the name of the class, but it was one of those student aid types where you could drive to an elementary school and shadow a teacher. Because I was a junior, I had not received the full information about parking lot rules (we had a small parking lot, only enough spaces for seniors). It was always a challenge to return from the elementary school and find a space since it was the first class in the morning and the late students would take your spot (no assigned parking). So one day, I saw a space very close to the school. In fact, it was the very first one. It wasn't marked for the principal or anyone in particular, so I parked and returned to class. Next period, I was in social studies. We were doing busy work when there was a nock on the door. Our teacher nodded as the school police officer came in. He asked very sternly if "Emily Granger" was in class. He told me to bring my keys as I raised my hand. Everyone looked at me. I was a good kid, a smart kid. Never got in trouble, never broke the rules. What could I have done to make the police officer so mad and for him to know it was me? I left class and followed him down the hall. He lectured me as I fought to keep up with his fast pace, but I couldn't figure out what I had done. We stepped out of the school and he pointed to my car, "Is that your vehicle?" "Yes, Sir" I responded. "That's my spot." He demanded. "Move your car now."

He explained to me that the yellow parking lines were for faculty and the white were for students. I had no idea. I fought back tears and he finished by informing me that he left a ticket on my windshield. I lost it when I got in the car. I made sure he had gone back inside before I attempted to return to class but I couldn't make it down the hall. I stepped in the girls' bathroom to try to gain composure. When I got to class, they were still doing busy work. My face was still completely read and the teacher mouthed to me, "Are you O.K.?" I broke again. I had tried so hard to be able to walk in that classroom. I mouthed back, "Can I go to the bathroom?" She nodded. I never went back. She found me there next period and said she would talk to the police officer and said how terrible it was that he yelled at me for something so accidental. I think she also might have taken care of the ticket. I only had one class left, theater. I hid in the costume closet after attendance was taken. I heard people asking where I was, but the teacher didn't notice me missing.

So what's the point of all this? How does it have to do with Addison? That is who this site is about after all. Well that's how my breakdown started yesterday. A situation where I might have done something wrong. I felt so, so sorry. It got resolved, thank goodness. I cried again later that night though about missing Addison. I think my headache was a response to my tears. Normally my medication works. But this wasn't a hormone related migraine. This was an emotional trauma induced migraine.

Sometimes even I forget how fragile I am now. How much I still miss her. I know in my head that she is right here with me. But I hate that I had to lose her, and none of my senses get to know that she is here.  I can't feel her soft hair. I can't smell her baby skin. I can't taste those tiny toes. I can't see her squirm. I can't hear her giggle. I just have to try to feel her spirit. And sometimes that helps a lot. But a lot of the time, that's not enough. I wanted a whole life time with her.

Anyway, I miss her. I'm glad the migraine is gone. I hope to keep it at bay long enough to get through this rain storm.

With love,

Addison's Mommy