Thriving not Surviving

1460 days

1460 days i catch myself thinking sometimes what would it be like to not have this migraine that's become my unwanted companion?  without the world spinning in a cruel dance of vertigo. To not feel the constant throbbing in my ear, a pain that's become as familiar as my own heartbeat.

I remember when I could look at my phone, read a book, or watch a movie without my vision blurring into a frustrating haze. When my head didn't feel like it was trapped in a vice, pressure building with each passing hour. These symptoms - they're not just medical terms anymore. They're my constant companions, uninvited roommates who moved in four years ago and refused to leave.

The battle isn't just with these symptoms. It's with the system too. Every phone call fighting for appointments feels like endless battle. Each email pleading for help seems to echo in an empty corridor. Sometimes I wonder if anyone's even listening.

But you know what's the hardest part? Learning to accept the imitations it comes with It's like trying to fit into clothes that don't quite fit anymore - your life just doesn't work the same way it used to. Simple tasks become complicated and plans often need to be rewritten or abandoned altogether.

Yet, every morning, I make a choice. A conscious, deliberate choice to do more than just survive. I choose to thrive. It might not look like what thriving used to look like, but I've learned to redefine success on my own terms. Some days, thriving means managing to work for a few hours. Other days, it's simply finding a moment of happiness despite the pain.

I may have forgotten what it feels like to live without these challenges, but I haven't forgotten how to live. Each day is a new opportunity to adapt, to fight, to hope. Because maybe tomorrow will be the day I get the help I need. Maybe tomorrow will be different.

Until then, I'll keep asking myself what it would be like, not out of self-pity, but as a reminder of what I'm fighting for. Because even though I can't remember what it feels like to be "normal," I haven't given up on finding out again someday.