I’m Officially the Family Crazy

I’m packing to go to our first family reunion of the summer. I’m packing my coping materials and I realize I have no idea how to break it to my family that a doctor diagnosed me as crazy person. I am as ‘the family crazy’ as it gets. We haven’t told anyone on this side of the family about the last 6 months. I have not been in a making phone calls and sharing mood. If I have a melt down an explanation is going to have to be made. “Oh, well. Hanging in there. On top of my pain and epilepsy troubles, now I hear voices, I’m psychotic, have clinical depression, anxiety, and a serious fear of knives. How have you been?” Yup. That about covers it.

Fireworks Hurt

The city fireworks are right now. I can hear them pop, bang, and boom from my bedroom. Each bang my migraine gets worse. The worst part of the 4th of July is right now. On the other hand, I can hear my niece squealing with delight. “Look!” and “Petty” are drifting into my room amidst the pops, bangs, booms, and squeals. It reminds me of how much I loved fireworks when I was her age. The pain changes how I tackle celebrations and holidays. I usually hope to make it through the whole event. Those are good days.