I continue to share, and hope you'll excuse the raw, unedited migrainous musings / ramblings of a brain in pain.
There's an emptiness inside me that knows no bounds.
Sometimes it tries to swallow me up.
Is it the pain? The anxiety? The depression?
Or is this emptiness me?
To know me truly,
See the darkness inside me,
Then don't turn and run.
The darkness surrounds.
Is it here to stay this time?
Please don't consume me.
I do not fear the darkness in others. I generally don't fear it in myself. But, there are times that it becomes overwhelming, and I can't see the light.
I feel like I'm disappearing. Shattering into tiny pieces and blowing away in the wind. Like I'm a fragile shell, being crushed by the weight of darkness. Do I still exist? What is left of me, when the pain overflows?
I'm not ok. I know I've been in this place before, and somehow come out the other side. But, that doesn't compute right now. This feels like my forever. Like I'm trapped.
I've spent most of the last week in the hospital getting infusions to try to break this status migraine.
Six days. Three IVs. Loads of meds. My mind and body are still in turmoil, and I don't know how long it'll take to feel like me again. I've been here before. I know that I get out. But, I don't know how. It feels too hard. I feel too weak.
Update 2 (March 4):
Today is filled with more pain than I feel I can bear. I'm not sure how I can survive it. I've treated hard. I'm trying to give myself rest. Nothing feels enough. I know I'll get through it... somehow... because I always do. Every time. Yet, even that gives me no solace in this moment.
Update 3 (March 5):
I woke today feeling more me than I have in a long time. Pain levels are lower. My mind and body are so weary and I can feel the weight of the battles fought. But right now, in this moment, I'm praising God for His provision and the respite.
"At the end of the day, we can endure much more than we think we can." - Frida Kahlo