My Pain Mattered: Survivor Kara

 


By Kara Blocker


I’m 17, singing a solo in church. I hit a high note, hold it, close my mouth and a hammer begins pounding on my head. I thought I was dying. “Don’t disturb the service, the show must go on,” drilled in my brain since childhood leads me to run down the aisle out the front door and begin puking on the sidewalk. Alone and scared, I didn’t want to bother anyone so I just run home to the parsonage and collapse into bed.

I wasn’t dying. And now, thousands and thousands of excruciating migraines later I know that I won’t die from them, I’ll just wish I could.

I felt punished. What did I do wrong? What did I eat? Did I sing too high? Was I breathing improperly? Was I afraid of my uncle/monster in the audience? What did I DO, so I can fix it and NEVER DO IT AGAIN. As every migraineur knows, I obsessed over triggers. I’ve now spent nearly half of my life in migraine pain. Approximately 40% of every hour, every week, every year for 33 years. It has interrupted most of my life plans. I attempted college 8 times and only finished 3 semesters. I have never held down a job. I’ve been “flaky” and “undependable.” I’ve tried every medical remedy and every spiritual remedy.






But here’s the good news: I now march to the beat of my own drum. And I “bother” people with my needs. I sit with sick people. I go at my own pace. And something I’ve observed? The world is crazy frenetic. And it’s a rat race, everyone trying to run to keep up with a system that is all for someone else’s benefit. I watch people stuck in jobs for 40 years that they never enjoyed. I see people miss the joy in little faces and worry about their appearance to try to fit in. And I’m so glad I don’t “fit in.” But I know that the world is a better place with me in it. Even if all I do is “bother” people and make them slow down to accommodate me. I’m compassionate. I’m caring. But my favorite thing about me is that I follow the Wind. I rest a lot. I play. I enjoy every pain-free moment. Every day without a migraine is a party. I make hay while the sun shines and I go to bed when the pain comes back.

I’ve recently found something that is helping my pain. But I’ve found things like this in the past that eventually stopped working. For now, I’ll live full days, coaching my clients, writing, supporting single moms, loving my husband. I will squeeze every bit of pain-free-ness out of every moment until I have to go back down under the covers. And then, when I’m just a bump under that blanket I won’t forget that I’m valuable, that the show can stop on a dime, that I’m worthy of love even if I can’t wash a single dish, and that I’m beautiful no matter how long it’s been since I’ve washed my hair.

And this emotional strength? It came from physical pain.

You’re valuable too. And worthy of love. And it’s okay if everyone is “bothered” by your pain. You’re not an inconvenience. You remind them that people are more important than corporations, churches and school programs. You remind the world to slow down. And that’s a really good reminder.


This story was shared as part of the project called Out of Oceania: Survivors Share Their Stories, an originial series by this blog. To read more stories, click here.


Photos courtesy: Kara Blocker

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