Dear Hate,

I hate when I take a pain pill and decide minutes later I really didn’t need it.

I hate when I’m starving and so nauseous I can’t eat.

I hate when I see that twisted look of pity and sadness on someone’s face when they hear about my condition.

I hate when people say, “I don’t know how you do it.”

I hate when people say, “I get migraines, too.”

I hate when painkillers make my nose itch so bad I want to rip it off my face.

I hate when all the nose scratching leaves a mighty pimple.

I hate insomnia.

I hate mornings after taking sleeping pills and muscle relaxers, when the bed is too comfy and the world is full of jagged edges.

I hate switching painkillers, so I have withdrawal from one and problems acclimating to the other all at the same time.

I hate constipation from too many painkillers.

I hate when I miss something important because of a migraine.

I hate when someone needs me, and I can’t be there because of a migraine.

I hate all the loss migraines and depression cause.

I hate how all those pills make my skin sensitive and my hair thin.

I hate listening to myself whine like this.

I hate that I’ll think of other things to add, right after I sign this as


P.S. If this rang a bell for you, and you hate something too, you can mention it here.


5 thoughts on “Dear Hate,

  1. 💜💜💜 you are awesome Payne

    I hate having lost my social life even though my friends are mostly understanding – I just can’t find the strength to do anything “extra.”

    I hate that I only get enough medication to last about two weeks, so I suffer through the next two.

    I hate spending hours in bed, in pain, that should be spent watching my daughters grow up.


  2. I think I just raised my fist in the air like I was at a protest after every one of your “I hate”s.

    Amen to that.

    My own ones?

    – I hate when people say “ohhhhhhhhhh have you got a headache?????”
    – I hate when, after having taken enough painkillers to not be in pain, I suddenly realise I’ve taken so many that I feel too sick to move.
    – I hate when people immediately start trying to relate my physical condition (As a disabled-fit not-quite-thirty-year-old) to that of their elderly grandparents.


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