Sauerkraut, Eggshells, and Popcorn

After spending the last two months in these remarkably restorative mountains, I thought christmas would be easier on me this year. Nope.

Not to say it wasn't a lovely holiday, because it was fantastic in that I spent time with family and friends, ate some amazing food, and soaked in the all xmasy ambience I could find. I was loving on the decorations this year, I wish we could have another month of trees and non-blinking lights.

Christmas music was, however, a major point of weakness for me. It sent me into a total meltdown of epic migraine proportions on xmas day, and I wondered if I'd even make it to the big family party. But, I rested for a while, medicated like a boss, and I went to that huge party, albeit a little late.

I had both earplugs jammed in my ears to combat the roar of 30 voices, the tail end of a jam session (guitars and full drum kit, natch), and more christmas music, and I had to avoid talking to anyone because trying to make out a single voice in that din was like looking for a contact lens in a bucket full of enraged jellyfish. So, I just smiled and nodded and only really participated in about half the conversations I had, which were only with about a quarter of the people there. I used to try and make a point to talk to everyone, but I didn't have the small talk in me. I did my best, though, and tried not to act too weird.

We gave everyone a small jar of homemade sauerkraut and a baby spider plant. Some people looked at us strangely and others clapped their hands gleefully upon receipt of our somewhat odd gifts. Sauerkraut can be a polarizing topic.

One notable thing was that the few people who asked how I was, I told them, "Oh, rather terrible, but glad to be here!" It just came out. I've been grudgingly telling everyone I'm fine or ok for the past few years, and this is the first time in a long time that I've admitted when I'm doing poorly in such a casual manner. Not sure how much it matters, but it felt relevant at the time.

So, it was painful, exhausting (two days later and I'm still moving at a snail's pace), and horrible at times, but I'm looking back on the weekend with mostly good feelings.

Since then, my head has been worse than it's been since we moved. I'd already forgotten the finer details of the hardcore migraine life I'd thought I'd left behind. I remember now how I'd spend most of the day laying down, alternately encouraging and bullying myself to get back up and do some laundry. How every noise above a whisper made me feel like my skin was crawling off my limbs and my eyeballs were trying to escape via my forehead. How my temper flared. These are things I did not miss.

My poor boyfriend is trying to find his footing with me again. He'd just stopped apologizing for every loud noise, was just starting to relax around me again, and now we're back to eggshells and mood swings and me feeling like a useless burden lump of misery.

I suspect that I just have to wait it out. The quiet of these woods will lull my migraine back to sleep, and I'll be back to hiking in no time. I hate wait.

We've got no plans for new year's eve, and I'd like to keep it that way. Maybe we'll take a drive to look at the stars, or something simple like that, but there will be no parties, no midnight firecrackers or pot-banging to hide from and no worries about playing spot the drunk driver on the way home. Nope, my honey and I will be tucked into our little house in the mountains, cuddling with our dog and maybe watching a movie marathon with some tea and popcorn. That sounds damned festive to me.