With each passing year, my migraines took more of my life. Trying to plan anything was not in my deck of cards. Auras would appear suddenly like a million cameras had just flashed in my face. I never knew if they would result in partial or complete vision loss. The headache was only just part of the attack.
My cognitive function would deteriorate, causing me to be at a loss for words or unable to make my fingers hit the right keys on my keyboard. A strange taste would start in my mouth and nausea would increase until I was darting for the bathroom.
My ears, sinuses, and muscles would ache like I had the flu. My eyeballs would be sore. My only option was to go to bed and pray that I could fall asleep. The next day I would wake up (hopefully without the headache) and feel hungover and completely depleted.
My migraine attacks made me live in fear of when the next one would occur. So many plans were ruined because I couldn’t push through or I didn’t even bother partaking because I knew a day in the sun and heat would leave me feeling horrible.
Stacking these feelings of helplessness on top of a partner that was unsympathetic to my condition, made it all unbearable.
While I had researched my options of divorce and felt I was unable to act on them, Ted actually did. As we went to bed one evening he casually told me he was considering divorce as he wasn’t happy. I had no idea what to do. Where would I go? How could I afford pay all these bills? I was unhappy too, but I was scared of how I was going to make it on my own. I don’t recall arguing or begging him not to go. I know there were tears, but it was mostly due to fear of the unknown. I went to bed that night knowing I would just wait for Ted to make his decision. Would he stay or would he leave?
Let’s just read that again. This is the person I had become. I didn’t make decisions anymore.
He came home the next day, hugged me, and smiled telling me that he wasn’t going anywhere. He had decided to stay and it was all going to be okay.
With each day I kept putting one foot in front of the other, I retreated further away emotionally and pretty much resembled a doormat. I felt like a puppet on strings, no longer in control of my life, lacking emotion, but yet on the verge of tears at any moment.
Our financial situation was only getting worse, yet Ted proclaimed a sense of entitlement as he worked hard and deserved things. It didn’t matter if we could afford it. So when an opportunity came for us to go to the beach with friends, there was no discussion about how we were going to afford it. Ted deserved a vacation.
I do love the beach and it can be a romantic destination, but this was not a romantic getaway. Were we even capable of romance at this point? We were driving down with friends and staying together in a condo.
It was a nice resort with a pool only a few blocks from the beach. I would love to spend my days reading and napping in the sun. Maybe this would be a nice vacation where I could just get lost in a good book and forget about my life.
My migraine hit on the drive down and I spent much of the drive longing for a quiet and dark room. My first evening of vacation was spent feeling nauseous and trying to drown out the noise outside my door. Ted was more inconvenienced that I wasn’t out socializing with our friends, than feeling concerned about me having a migraine attack. Nothing new about that.
While I preferred to sit peacefully by the pool or on the beach with a book, Ted liked an agenda. It was just one more thing dividing us. I look back on the trip and try to remember what good times we had. Either we didn’t have any or the bad times just took up too much memory space.
Towards the end of the trip, Ted decided he wanted to buy a new Apple laptop. We all packed in the Mercedes (I hated that car) and drove to Best Buy to humor him. But unfortunately, he was dead set on getting this laptop. He was unable to apply for a credit card himself and told me I had to. I was furious that he would even consider opening yet another credit card. Ted continued to argue with me until I realized we were not going to leave the store until I gave in. I had tears streaming down my face as I filled out that application and was told I was approved. The cashier had no idea what to do.
Ted was ecstatic that he now had his computer and couldn’t wait to get back to the condo to start it up. He had gotten his way and was oblivious that his behavior was causing our friends to awkwardly wonder what in the heck just happened?