Just over two years ago, I finally made an appointment for a physical after avoiding the doctor for almost five years. I was ready to seek help for my chronic migraine again after numerous negative experiences with medication and neurologists who let my concerns fall on deaf ears. This time my doctor listened to me because I insisted on being heard, and this time I considered my symptoms might be more than physical.
I took myself to see a therapist who confirmed my theory that the migraines are related to past, unprocessed trauma. The old me would have never stepped foot into a therapist’s office. Instead, I would have downed more pills from the doctor so I could keep working and continuing my path to self-destruction.
I once thought losing my job would destroy my life, but instead, it was the catalyst for a new phase in my life. A phase where I focus on my health instead of trying to bury it. A phase where I focus on my family and cherish all that I already have.