...

I suffer from chronic migraines, both the regular ones and the tension migraines. I can’t eat cured meats, ultraprocessed foods, some spices, and even oranges; they all trigger migraines. Air conditioning too, strong smells, smoke of any kind, and the list goes on; it grows longer every day. Then the tension ones, it is as muscular as it is emotional. Stress, exercises I try to do that come out wonky, hatred, the repression of everything I feel in favor of appearing normal. In fact, I can feel a migraine coming up right now, boiling inside my skull, low, slow, tentative, like a predator stalking prey.

These migraines stop me from doing a lot of things, like cleaning the house and exercising more frequently, but more importantly, they make me a little mean, but maybe a little is too little. It’s hard to be optimistic and nice when you know you’re going to spend the rest of your life fighting this pain.

These extreme periods of pain excuse and explain a lot of things, but I wish they were the only things that make me the mediocre person I am. I feel like there’s a wall, a ceiling I can’t go past, my very uninspired limit, a limit that I already reached, the peak of my "talent.”.

There are people younger than me that are so much better; there are people older than me who are still accomplishing so much, and whether I look up or down on the scales, I feel like I’m removed entirely from it. There’s no place for someone like me.

I don’t have prospects of getting a better job, though I need one more than anything. I apply, and I get rejected, like many others, yes, yes. There’s hundreds of people better than me applying to these same jobs, and I just can’t win the race; no one wants a below-average employee.

Limitations and limitations. Some would say I can’t compare myself to all the “regular” people, that I need a different scale because of my difficulties and what not. But I don’t want to use a different ruler, and I don’t want to be like me, I want to be like THEM. Fuck being an exception, that has brought me nothing but mental anguish.

It’s a conflict, a mental tug of war. I want to be more like other people, but I can’t because I just don’t work like that. I try hard, but maybe it’s not hard enough, but I don’t have the energy to try harder.

My brain is becoming mushy, a soup of neurons firing in all the wrong directions, and I’m tired.

I’m a repetitive person by nature, and this specific suffering is a small and fast cycle; it just keeps coming up again and again and again. A gear turning out of control.

And guess what? All this anguish gives me migraines.

This is a big sigh, a big cry, and it serves nothing. It goes nowhere; I type this, and it falls to the floor, obscured by the mountain of some other more important things. The bills need to be paid, and my motorcycle needs it’s fuel, the cat needs to be taken care of, and the house needs to be cleaned, and I need to be more supportive to my fiancee, who also struggles just like me, and I also need to be better at being empathetic, and I need to care about things, but I also need to be in control of my needs, and better yet, I need to be in control of my desires, and also be happy, and be grateful, and make more and more money and be satisfied in my mediocrity.

Life is just a big run-on sentence.

And this text sucks!!!!