Submitted by megan on Thu, 01/22/2009 - 20:34
++First: What I Expected++
Not entirely true. The doctor didn't tell me to figure out what my triggers were. She said that I wasn't having a classic migraine, and that it might not actually be a migraine, but that it was certainly some sort of reasonably severe episode centred in my head, and docs really know fuck all about migraines.
Okay, so she didn't actually say that last part, but her very expressive shoulders told me what I needed to know.
Because I've been having them pretty consistently and with the same set of symptoms for about 8 years, she wasn't that worried. If I get new symptoms, I should go back. She could prescribe me something stronger, or I could just be more aggressive with the Advil and Tylenol.
For the same reason that because my father is a mechanic I start stopping about 500 metres before a red light to save the brakes, I did not ask for a brain scan. My mom works for the provincial government in homecare, working damn hard to manage health care resources responsibly.
I feel like me having a brain scan for something that's been stable for 8 years is a waste of resources. So, no scanning for me.
Also, the little bump that is in the middle of the ball of my foot? It's not a wart. Which is good, because warts totally give me the willies. What it is is a callous, from yoga, from turning from front to back and back to front in the standing postures. Yes, I know I should probably be turning on my heels. But yes, I am pretty pleased with myself nonetheless.
++Second: Kinda, Sorta++
The first 20 minute writing exercise went pretty well. Mostly in that I did it. Took the full 40 minutes to get the 20 done, but do them I did.
I expected that I would get through them, but I did not expect what came out to come out at all. No fucking wonder I've been shying away from writing. There's ugly stuff in there. If I keep doing this, I think it's going to be a hard winter.
But thanks to everyone for your nice comments, for your support. L. dropped off The Artist's Way for me yesterday. I've only just flipped through it, but man, does it ring true.
Most of the time when we are blocked in an area of our life, it is because we feel safer that way. We may not be happy, but at least we know what we are - *
That describes so much of my life, past or current: the comforting ruts of depressive episodes; staying in relationships saturated with anger and hatred because my training for those was thorough and long, my navigation skills honed razor sharp; not writing because I would rather coast on reputation than prove people wrong; not writing because I am scared of what I have in me to write about.
We know what we are, unhappy, constrained, quiet. Safely discontented. Striving towards happiness and fulfillment is terrifying: we might not make it. Probably won't make it, in fact, or only for moments. And the bitterness of that can be sharp on the tongue.
Cameron, Julia. The Artist's Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity. 10th Anniversary Ed. New York: Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam, 2002. p. 30.