Stick in the Mud

Whenever I try to figure out how I became such a stick in the mud, I am mindful to stop trying to figure it all out. One thing I have always liked about myself is that I haven’t spent much time pondering, why this or that happened to me.

Last May, for whatever reason, I started getting severe migraines at an alarming rate. Sure, I’d had migraines as a teenager but they were sporadic. I could take to the bed for a day and then, move on with my life. Last spring, it became completely different and nearly constant.

Now, I know that I’m not the only one who suffers from chronic migraines, but in the past, I thought, “Meh, it’s just a headache, so no big whoop. Suck it up.” One of my dearest childhood friends began suffering with chronic migraines as a child and she still suffers. It wasn’t until last spring that I truly understood the challenges my girlfriend was up against.

Migraines have mostly ruined the last year of my life. They’ve battled with my relationships, my ability to be at my best at work, at home and absolutely anywhere I happen to be, and therefore, my sense of identity and self-esteem took a big hit.

I haven’t wanted to address the truth about this, even to myself. I mean, seriously… it’s just headaches. “Take some aspirin and move on. There’s a freakin’ pandemic going on and I have no right to complain about anything!”

Of course, I have been working with a neurologist who I believe is the bees knees. I trust him implicitly. We’ve tried a slew of medications and procedures, most of which I cannot pronounce. Last week, in partnership with my neurologist, we embarked on a totally new regimen. So, I’m writing this today because I feel better and I want anyone who’s reading this to know there’s hope for chronic pain sufferers. I’ve had time and space without my head hurting and it feels like a miracle. I’m sharp, funny and loving; all of which I desperately needed to be reminded of. It’s eerie as to how much my chronic pain seemed to alter my identity. In my own painful head, I became so completely miserable, I thought I would die. (And sometimes, the pain was so bad, I felt like I wanted to die.) Today, I feel more “me-ish” than I’ve felt in almost a year. I am very grateful for it.

So, if my clear, pain-free head continues, great. If not, I will keep trying new things to try and help myself.

For chronic pain sufferers, I see you and love you exactly as you are. You may be feeling 100% unlovable, but it’s just a lie your pain is telling you.

You are lovable, exactly as you are.

Me too.

ABCs of 5779 & 5780

During this transition into 5780, I decided to do an exercise: to sum up this past  year and vision for year to come, in less than five minutes.

I forced myself not to overthink, but to fly through a list that I believe is the truth – the good, the bad and the ugly. There was a lot of ugly in 5779, but toward its close, my family and I experienced more hope in our “Happy House.” May it represent better things to come for me, my family, you, your family and humankind.

 Blank Instagram Landscapes

  • Afflicted
  • Burdened
  • Crafty
  • Dumped
  • Exit
  • Freaked
  • Genuine
  • Happy House
  • Inventive
  • Job
  • Kicked
  • Loved
  • Mishegas
  • No
  • Prayer
  • Quandary
  • Responsibilities
  • Scary
  • Tricky
  • Unjust
  • Vacant
  • Whipped
  • X-rated
  • You   (Yeah, YOU.)
  • Zapped

Blank Instagram Landscapes (1)

  • Authentic
  • Better
  • Caressed
  • Defused
  • Energized
  • Free
  • Gentle
  • Hopeful
  • Illuminated
  • Jerusalem
  • Knowledge
  • Loved
  • Mom
  • No
  • Open
  • Present
  • Quiet
  • Renewed
  • Simple
  • Tranquil
  • Unencumbered
  • Visionary
  • Well
  • Xenophile
  • Yippee
  • Zeal

Shana Tova. Even if you feel it more sour than sweet, may we have the patience to wait out the sour until it transitions into sweetness.

XO, Pamegranate

Directions on Escaping Your Private Hell

ESCAPE ROUTE: Make it less private.

Ask for help.

Tell the truth. Continue reading “Directions on Escaping Your Private Hell”

A Love Letter Redux to Juliette

The original letter I wrote to Juliette four years ago can be found here – “For Juliette: A Love Letter You’ll Hate (For Now)”. I write my daughters fairly often, but this one stands out and serves as a sort of unspoken grading tool for how I am doing as a mother. I give myself a “C” grade as a mother, but the important lesson here is that I don’t accept my own “C” grade. I trust the trustworthy people in my life instead. Continue reading “A Love Letter Redux to Juliette”

People are Kind

People are kind.

Just now, I took the dog for a walk. It’s chilly, but as usual, I chose not to wear a jacket. One of the things I like about frigid weather in the winter is how alive I feel when the glacial air blasts my face.  Continue reading “People are Kind”

The Santa, Jesus, & Allah Loving Jew

Wait. If you find yourself gasping, maybe hang tight for a moment or two. It’s just,

I’m a believer.

I believe in love and goodness. I believe in looking toward joy rather than seeking dissonance. I love dissonance in music, but to choose dissonance where it doesn’t belong, is a kooky individual and sociological habit in my opinion. Continue reading “The Santa, Jesus, & Allah Loving Jew”

An Authentic, Invested, Thanksgiving That May Not be “Happy.”

Not that you’ve asked, but for me, the typical Thanksgiving greeting, reeks of a lack of inclusion of all people. It’s downright platitudinous.

This original post is from several years ago. It’s been edited to reflect this year’s extra weirdness.

A typical greeting on Thanksgiving is, “Happy Thanksgiving,” but  I much prefer,

“I wish you a MEANINGFUL Thanksgiving.”

I actually take this tack with most holidays and even just plain old days. This hope for “meaning,” applies this year as much as any other. Many of us are about to embark on a Thanksgiving like no other one in the past. We may be missing our parents, kids, extended family and friends. Still, how many people have felt totally alone even when a pandemic isn’t spiking? Lots and lots.

Not that you’ve asked, but for me, the typical Thanksgiving greeting, reeks of a lack of inclusion of all people. It’s downright platitudinous. Do you really want to say, “Happy Thanksgiving,” to indigenous people? Many Native Americans observe this day, as a day of mourning or “UnThanksgiving.” Continue reading “An Authentic, Invested, Thanksgiving That May Not be “Happy.””

Boxing Gloves & Kid Gloves

Dukes up.

Boxing gloves on.

Ready for the big fight, flight, or, freeze. Continue reading “Boxing Gloves & Kid Gloves”

A Fear of Peaks (and Valleys)

As I stand at the base of the highest mountain I have ever seen, I squint to view its highest peak. I try to appraise what it will take to reach its top. How can anyone possibly live through this painful and dangerous climb? I try to count all of its jagged edges above the timberline, but there are too many to track. I panic. I don’t know anything about the other side of the mountain. I acknowledge that my understanding of this risky venture can only be accurately evaluated by walking to the other side of the mountain along its base. Continue reading “A Fear of Peaks (and Valleys)”