Most of my day was spent battling a gruesome headache. When my Mother was about my age or so, she would get these nightmarish migraines every so often and I remember how crippling they were for her. How she’d stay in bed all day, which is very unlike my Mother and her busy body personality. She never lets sickness slow her down, but these headaches never gave her a chance. They were so painful she would resort to crying, probably the way that I cry when I experience similar turmoil inside my head. My strong, resilient Mother who thinks childbirth is a cinch and slid out two babies without the aid of any medication would cry because of these migraines. It scares me to know that I have seemingly picked up the same type of pain that she once had (she still gets random headaches, but rarely, and they’re not as agonizing as they had been during her young adult life). I feel paralyzed when these headaches hit me out of nowhere. Any plans I had for the day become nonexistent and I feel like I’ve let myself and everyone else around me down because I can’t get anything done when there are so many things I need to do. They take over my life for several hours at a time and all I can do is waste away in bed, waiting, hoping, and praying that it will soon go away.