in a new york migraine

migraine on the brooklyn bridge.

I’ve always felt incredibly guilty when I didn’t take full advantage of a trip that I was on. I forget that holidays should also be used as a time of rest.

migraine in williamsburg.

My recent trip to New York was filled with great memories with friends, divine food, glorious sights, my favourite musical, and a strong painkiller at the start of each morning.

Sometimes I fear that my life is moving on without me. It’s as if the leaves around me are changing colour while I stay green — green with envy, green with sickness. I’m pining for a life that I should have had and rooted in the place I never wanted to be.

migraine at the airport.

The gaps with no pain are lovely. I never feel more invincible when I finally think that it’s over. I hold onto that small amount of hope every single time.

I am impressed by how much I can withstand, and sometimes shamefully wear the high pain tolerance badge of honour my physio-therapist awarded me. I am strong but I shouldn’t have to be. If you’re ever wondering, ‘strong’ is not the compliment you think it is either.

Trips should allow rest more freely and it is okay to watch life go on from the foot of your bed. The world won’t wait for me but I know there’s another bus coming. I will wait for it.