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A Stormy Forecast

12/20/23 2:57 pm

It’s almost Christmas. I can’t keep this up. I don’t know why my parents won’t take me to a doctor when it happens almost every day. My head just won’t stop pounding like lightning struck me straight in the head. Today is really bad. I’ve already been in bed for four hours and the storm is still raging in my head. I’ve been complaining since freshman year and-

 

My journal is interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. On second thought, was it sharp or does my head just hurt that bad?

 

“Karli. I asked you over thirty minutes ago to get downstairs and clean up. You know we have family coming over and I expect the living room to be ready for them when they get here,” she screeched. Well, screeching might be an exaggeration… my head definitely hurts.

 

“I can’t, I have a headache,” I murmur. That’s all I can muster up.

 

“Karli, that’s not an excuse. Everyone gets headaches. I’ll get you some pain meds but you need to come downstairs and help.”

 

I break down. I roll over to face her and she sees the tears rolling silently down my face. I can’t even croak out a good sob. My headache is all consuming and it is never going to end. I need help.

 

1/13/24 9:24 pm

The pit in my stomach could hold the moon. I can’t stop thinking about seeing the doctor tomorrow. What if they don’t believe me like my parents did at first? People love to downplay my pain because it’s ‘just a headache’ but they don’t know what it’s like. They’ll never know what it’s like to have their head swarmed with little mind-numbing bats; they’ll never feel every vicious bite and see every anxious thought on replay. How do I explain that to them? How do I get them to understand?

 

“When did your headaches start? Do you have any other symptoms with your headaches and how long do they last? Would you say they’re sharp or dull? Let’s start there and I’ll have a few more follow-up questions to ask later,” the doctor spit out rapid-fire.

 

“Uhm, I think they started freshman year of high school, so about four years ago? I get really anxious and everything feels really loud when I get headaches, and it starts to feel overwhelming really quickly. I also get really sensitive to light and feel nauseous. They’re sharp pain usually. What was the other question? Sorry,” I sighed. It’s already been a long morning of anxiety and she asked her questions so fast I couldn’t keep up.

 

“I honestly can’t quite remember, but I think I have all the info I need. Have you tried dieting? I think it might be beneficial. Try to make healthy choices like eating more vegetables and fruits and cutting back on all that candy and soda. Cutting back on portions could help too. Getting some regular exercise incorporated might help you lose a little weight as well. Otherwise, trying to organize your schedule by making a plan ahead of time might help with your anxiety, but let’s see how this goes and check back in about a month,” she explained.

 

Shame washes over me as I start to think about my eating habits and weight. This is all sounding like a broken record- everytime I come in I hear about how I can “eat healthier” and “just lose a few pounds,” but they never bother to ask me what my habits actually are. I watch my portions. I exercise every day, but they don’t seem to care. I know her advice won’t help, but I’d rather be labeled quiet than the overweight girl in denial. I start to spiral, feeling the pressure building as I realize I’ve been placed into a box I may never escape. I put my health in her hands and yet my own doctor can’t see past my body. I have to advocate for myself in a space where I’m supposed to be taken care of.

 

“They start early in the morning and last all day. They take over entire days at a time. That was your other question, how long they lasted,” I whispered.

 

“What was that?” she turned to face me again, a confused look on her face.

 

“You asked how long my headaches last. They last all day. I can’t even function for an entire day when it happens. Nothing has helped, and I don’t know what to do,” I pleaded as tears started to well up in my eyes.

 

“Alright sweetie, let’s see what we can do.”

 

1/14/24 8:01 pm

My doctor finally listened. I don’t think she understood exactly how I felt, but she realized I was struggling when I started to cry. Why do I always have to cry for people to take this seriously? She prescribed me two medications: Topiramate twice daily for prevention and Naproxen as needed for when they get really bad. I have a follow-up next month to see if this works. Wish me luck, I have to go take my first pill. I hate pills.

 

I crawl out of bed and check my calendar. It’s been two weeks since I had my follow-up. Things have been going pretty well so far, I’ve only had some brief dull pain here and there. I get dressed and ready for class and head outside. The morning winter air cuts through my feeble attempt to bundle up, but I quickly catch the bus outside my dorm and head to class. The bus driver is playing his true-crime podcasts as usual, but something feels off. I sit down and settle in for the short drive to downtown and slowly look around to see if anything is different with this bus. A guy that’s in my class takes the open seat next to me.

 

“Don’t you think it’s weird that this guy plays true-crime every day? I mean come on, that’s gotta be a sign or something am I right?” he jokes.

 

“I bet you’re next on his list,” I laugh, “it is kind of annoying how loud he plays it though.”

 

“Really? I guess I must listen to my music way too loud then. I actually think it’s pretty quiet,” he remarks.

 

And just like that, it clicks. That stormy feeling isn’t just the weather. Good thing I packed my pills.