Thirty-Four
Migraine—I call it migraine ’cause it fits the description, but I think it’s like the bad skin and linked to my body being on the edge of a chasm and it’s when I hurt because I’m clinging onto a branch so hard to prevent myself tumbling down. Everything hurts because of the clinging. Some of them might be real migraines. How can I know when the doctor doesn’t?
I’m shoving days and days of notes together here. That way the doctor can find them. I’m honestly not sure it’s useful anymore, but if I put them all here then I won’t remember them as happening every damn day. That’s what the notes were doing.
I didn’t know I had this mental capacity to obliterate some of the everyday awfulness and get through it emotionally by strange sublimation. When I read the note or write the no
