Refined by Fire

I remember when my parents first purchased you. I was 8 years old and still recall that first whiff of your newness as I slid into the backseat. This was the first time in my life my family had owned a new car and it felt luxurious. Many a road trip you took our little family of four. I remember sitting in the the backseat with my Gameboy Color playing Pokemon Yellow for hours as Dad drove us across the country. I even remember driving home from one particular trip, to Grand Mesa. The whole family had gotten some terrible stomach bug, and Mom and I got it the worst. Eyes closed and paper bag in my hands, I did my best not to vomit at every bump and turn (as I totally grossed out my sister). Soon, though, you'd drive me home, to chicken noodle soup and my own warm bed. You drove us to Holy Trinity for 5 years, my new school once Mom got her first teaching job there as the new 3rd grade teacher. There I'd meet some great kids who are still my best friends. Once I finally got

This fall I’m approaching my two-year headache-versary. Almost exactly two years ago, I had to go on disability leave due to a headache that has still yet to end, and a heaping helping of chronic migraines added for good measure. I didn’t know it at the time, but it was the beginning of the end. The pain would get worse, my anxiety was through the roof, and eventually I’d have to quit the job I loved. It was a gradual losing of control and of everything I had worked towards. It was a slow and painful fall away from my hopes and dreams. This time last year was admittedly more painful than now, as the wounds were still so fresh. I’d like to say that I’m able to handle the grief more graciously this time around because I’ve had a year to grow in wisdom, maturity, and acceptance. But more likely I think it’s just easier because the passage of time numbs me. The more time passes, the more my past headache-free days simply feel like a different life, a distant memory, and that makes it

Anyone who lives in chronic pain knows that the symptoms run much deeper than just a physical illness. Over the years, we tell ourselves stories to make sense of such a difficult life, whether we realize it or not. We grasp at reason and order in a life that often seems chaotic and out of our control. It is all too easy to allow the physical pain to seep into our psyches, and often in a harmful and counterproductive manner. It is time we recognize these unhealthy thought patterns, denounce them as lies, and refuse to allow our lives to be dictated by guilt-ridden false narratives.   Living with chronic migraine and chronic daily headache, I have an extremely unhealthy relationship with medication. When my journey first began, I was put on the most common migraine drug: Sumatriptan. I would take the allotted 9 pills per month and I desperately needed every pill I swallowed to put an end to a debilitating migraine. When the frequency of migraines gradually increased, I b