It’s noon thirty on a Saturday and as per doctor’s orders I’ve done diddly squat. I’m not supposed to do anything exciting like staring at flashing lights or going to a disco.
Truly.
I clarified by asking about the disco.
I don’t think my doctor found me as funny as I find me.
Her loss.
The first thing I did this morning was look in the mirror and decide that I looked weird because of the Botox. Then I asked my husband if I look weird for about five minutes until I cried. Then I felt better. It’s been that kind of day. Obviously I still think I look weird and I will think that forever because I have convinced myself that I have been permanently disfigured somehow… even though I look exactly the same.
I dreamed about being caught in the middle of a plastic lightsaber fight at a daycare.
The doctor said it could take a week for me to feel any relief from head pain. So far it’s been worse. There’s the pain behind my left eye layered with this rotating, sawing, gnawing sort of pain across my forehead. My neck and shoulders are so very tight. Why did my physical therapist have to dump me. It is now that I need him most!
I suppose I will try my stretches and see where that gets me.
My Brain Hates Me 