Yeah, you…the one with the brightness turned way down, hiding behind sunglasses, under that big hat, surrounded in ice packs and trash bins. It’s been three days and that storm in your head is still going strong. Just glancing at the screen burns your eyes, but you are desperate for a glimmer of hope, for just one more hint to make it all go away.
I can feel the hell you’re going through. Outside that darkened room, there are responsibilities, people who depend on you, friends who miss you…a life waiting to be lived. It haunts your migraine-filled dreams, looming over you, shaking its dark finger at you. What mortal sin did you commit this time to awaken the beast that now grips your head? You’ve gone over it in your head a thousand times and can’t think of a single misstep. Like a condemned man wrongly convicted, you protest your innocence. You’ve medicated, hydrated, and meditated and still the beast rages on. Despite your pain, you force yourself to look at the still too bright screen, desperate for an answer that will stop it all.
I see you. I hear your cries. I feel your pain. You believe that medicine and doctors cannot help. You’ve been told “It’s just a headache,“ and “Learn to live with it,” more times than you remember. No one takes you seriously. You feel so alone in the darkness, but you’re not. Darkness feels good to me, too. We can sit here as long as you need. Whatever path you feel you must take, I will travel it with you. When you get lost and can’t find your way, don’t panic. I’ve got a map. When others question your sanity or accuse you of “faking”, don’t lose heart. I believe you and don’t mind telling others to “stuff it” on your behalf.
You’ve come to the right place. Here you will find understanding. You might even learn something new. I guarantee you’ll find hope.
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