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Miriam’s Story of Gratitude

When I was 18, my life changed forever. Out of nowhere, I started to get a pain in my head that I never felt before. Later, I found out this was called a migraine. I started my migraine journey when I began to see a neurologist in college. We exhausted all medication options and treatment options. I even underwent tests such as a spinal tap and MRIs.

My college experience was shaping out to be very different than most. I didn’t go out on weekends because I knew I had to get to bed by 10:30 or else I’d wake up with a migraine the next day. I would go to bed anxious every night that the next morning I would be sick with a headache. I couldn’t leave my house without my small bag of medicine that would hopefully get rid of my headache. I had my professors’ numbers saved in my phone so that I could text them when I wouldn’t be able to make class or rehearsal (I was a music major) because I was in bed.

Things took a turn for the worst when I started going to the emergency room for my migraines. 2016 was not a great year. I remember counting the number of times I went to the ER on both hands. In June of 2016, I worked at a sleepaway camp and that’s when I knew that I really needed help. I remember making a phone call to my parents saying that if we didn’t find a doctor to help me, I could not attend college in the Fall. My neurologist didn’t know how else to help me and I needed another opinion. In August 2016, my life changed again.

My uncle read about Dr. James Charles in the newspaper and sent my parents the article. I knew I had to get an appointment. The first time I met Dr. Charles, he sat with me for so long. He asked about my childhood – my complete migraine history. He listened to me. I felt heard. After diagnosing me with chronic migraine, I knew he was going to help me. He sent me to Holy Name Medical center for an infusion treatment and I began to live my life again. My migraines didn’t control my life.

Dr. Charles gave me my life back. Migraine disease can’t be cured – I know that. There have been many times since 2016 that I have gone through bad times with my migraines, but every time Dr. Charles and his incredible staff have been there to help me. Since August 2016, I have traveled to other countries, I graduated college with a music education degree, I started a master’s program, I have laughed, cried, and I have stayed up past 10:30 pm again.

I am so grateful to my wonderful parents. They have driven me numerous times to and from doctors’ appointments and I would not have gotten through my migraine journey without them. To my parents – thank you from the bottom of my heart for being there for me, for getting me ginger ale when I am sick with a headache, I love you. To Dr. Charles, I am forever thankful. You gave me my life back and taught me how to live with migraines without letting them control me. To everyone who lives with migraine disease – each migraine will pass and you will get out of the dark room. We need to share our stories so that you know there are other people out there who suffer from them too. You are not alone.

 

Please share your stories here

Read the stories of other people living with migraine disease and headache disorders here.

Discover helpful resources from the NHF’s Migraine University

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Ana Shares her Struggle

Hi, my name is Ana and I have lived with from migraine disease for the last 20 years. Actually, I just can’t remember when it all started.

I have been struggling to study because I get sick quite often, and even though I am a good student I just can’t deliver my homework on time.

I had psychological issues due to pain and frustration. I have felt very lonely as I am sure most people also feel.

About a year ago, my doctor told me I should share my story so maybe I’d reach someone else out there feeling the same about this condition, so recently I decided to do so, and now I have some virtual friends to talk to which is quite comforting.

So, if you are out there, feeling pain and loneliness and struggling to live, please, remember you are not alone and remember the battle is ours. Maybe most of the days we feel bad. But our good days are priceless!


Hola mi nombre es Ana y llevo con migraña más de 20 años. En realida no me acuerdo de cuándo empezaron.

He tenido problemas graves para estudiar, porque me pongo mal bastante a menudo y aunque soy buena estudiante simplemente no llego a entregar los trabajos a tiempo.

He tenido problemas psicológicos por el dolor y la frustración y me he sentido muy sola y estoy segura de que la mayoría de vosotros también.

Hace más o menos un año, mi neuróloga me comentó que tal vez debería compartir mi experiencia y que tal vez así contactaría con alguien más sintiéndose igual con esta enfermedad, así que hace poquito me he animado a hacerlo y ahora tengo algunos amigos virtuales con los que hablar, lo que es reconfortante…

Así que si me lees, y también sientes dolor y frustración y soledad, por favor, recuerda que no estás solo y que la batalla es nuestra. Quizás la mayoría de los días sean horribles, pero los buenos no tienen precio.

my migraine is.... mi migraña es...

how i feel abou my condition - cómo me siento con esta enferemdad

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Javier’s Story of Living With Chronic Migraine

I decided to share my migraine story as I am going through my worst one ever. I am 23 years old and have a B.S. degree in Kinesiology. I was diagnosed with chronic migraine at  8 years old. My migraine attacks come for about 3 months and the intensity increases every day. The migraine attacks usually vanish for 4 years, but always come back.

For some reason, last year in December I began the cycle and I was about 160 lbs. and finished my undergrad. I was extremely happy celebrating with friends and came home super late. At around 5 am, I woke up screaming with a migraine and I knew this was the beginning of the cycle. I took my meds and tried to power through my migraine cycle. This cycle was the worst one ever. I ended having to pause my 3 jobs a month later, lost 30 lbs, became depressed, dealt with anxiety, and ended up being hospitalized for a week.

This migraine left me extremely traumatized that I still shiver and cry from time to time. My neurologist said he had never seen anyone with migraines as bad as mine. I almost harmed myself but thankfully did not. My last migraine stopped maybe in March. It is now September and I am dealing with chronic headaches and I am starting to get scared again and have begun treatment which is why I am writing this.

I believe that if I made it out of the one I had this year, I can make it out of any of the next ones. I just hope I am not a burden to anyone in my life. Cheers to anyone going through it, With much love. Javier.

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Rachel’s Invisible Pain

Almost every day is a long battle of “Pain vs. Pills.” But sometimes I wake up feeling like someone hit my head with a baseball bat or ran into it with a truck while I was sleeping. My head is too often wrapped tightly in an ice pack, the lights off, and my head smooshed against a pillow. Another wasted day. Another wasted night. Another wasted weekend.

I decided to share “My Migraine Story” on my 44th birthday because far too many people endure this invisible pain and we need to share our stories so that others can understand our experiences. Day after day people living with migraine disease put on a happy face and pretend to feel much better than they actually feel, all for the sake of others. We try to pop our pills inconspicuously, not wanting to ruin the mood. But we want to be there, a part of it all because we’ve already missed too much.

The first migraine attacks I can remember began when I was around eight years old. I recall trying to rest in my parents’ bed in a darkened room with a cold washcloth on my forehead. From then until I was in college, I would experience migraine attacks once a month or a few times a year. Every single year of high school, on the first day of school, I’d get a migraine attack at the end of the day. I’ll never forget how it felt to climb the steps of the school bus to go to a tennis match during a migraine attack. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone, including my teammates. Not too much changed during my college years.

My migraine disease started to take over my life when I began my first teaching job in my 20s. I would call my neurologist often, in utter desperation, looking for some advice on what to do or what to take. This was the beginning of the unending attempts at preventive meds.

I began to picture my wedding day, but not in the typical, idyllic way. I knew that I would have to keep my triptans close to me because they almost always stop the pain. Growing up, I imagined that I would get married and have a family. Plans change. I am very happy with the life that I have, but I’m not happy that the decision wasn’t entirely mine — migraine disease stole that from me. I couldn’t imagine trying to raise a family while living with chronic daily migraine.

I hate disappointing people, and even in my 20s, I realized that many people did not believe me when I had to cancel plans due to migraine disease. The loneliness that I already felt increased to a whole new level. Most recently, I addressed these feelings with some of my friends, and I explained how horrible I feel when I have to cancel plans.  Making plans is always accompanied by a caveat that I may have to cancel, even though I don’t want to miss out on the fun.

I had always prided myself on my work ethic, but migraine disease took that away from me. At the beginning of the 2010-11 school year, my neurologist wrote a letter to the principal at the school where I was teaching to explain my chronic daily migraine. My principal empathized and shared that his brother also lived with migraine disease. By the spring, that same man questioned if my migraine disease was real because I had to miss so many days of school that year. I knew I could no longer keep up the lifestyle of full-time teaching, and that’s when I decided to make a major change and move abroad.

When I moved to Barcelona,  I had a “honeymoon phase” when my migraine disease seemed to improve, but then it returned. In Spain, I didn’t have to deal with insurance companies weighing in on how many triptans I could take, I also didn’t need a prescription. Eventually, I had worked up to taking triptans not only every day but sometimes up to four times a day. That’s when I set out to find the best migraine specialist in Barcelona.

I found a doctor who helped many people living with migraine disease and, hopefully, one day she will find a cure. Besides getting me started on new preventives and limiting the number of days in a month that I could take triptans, this doctor took the time to explain “the migraine brain” to me. She also described the healthy habits I needed to implement; I’m still working on those, but I know I need to be disciplined with my sleep schedule, exercise regularly (even when I feel like my head can’t take it) and eat right.

We all live with pain, whether visible or invisible, physical or otherwise, and we all deserve to live a pain-free life. I am a surprised that as desperate and hopeless as I feel when I’m in the throes of a migraine attack,  when I come out of it I somehow become hopeful again. After 20+ years I still have hope that the next 20 years won’t be like the last 20.

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Headache History Class

I have constant 24-hour, chronic headaches. When I receive my Bachelor of Arts in Classical Studies and my Bachelor of Science in Anthropology in May 2021, I will not only commemorate four wildly successful years at Tulane University, but I will commemorate four years of headaches. I will commemorate every painful second of every day of class, research, and exploration; where my head became my own clock ticking away in pain as well as marking the deadlines to reach and the goals to achieve. I will commemorate every A and 100% on a test, as well as every 9/10 headache. I will receive a diploma with extensive high honors but my brain scans and doctors will yield no solutions.

I find it highly ironic that the seat of my knowledge and my intellect, all my thoughts that enabled me to receive such prestige, sit in the very place where pain reverberates every day. It is comical honestly to see my life mapped out. My brother—not I— sustained multiple head injuries as a child, I almost chose to study neuroscience, my very confirmation saint is the patron of headaches, and my worst fear is exactly what happened to me. And surprisingly out of all the pain, doctors, medicines, and treatments, I have learned more about headaches and personal acceptance from people who lived millennium before us.

People have always revered heads. In Jericho, one of the oldest Neolithic cities in the Levant (and the world), the inhabitants reconstructed human skulls with plaster. Both South American and African tribes have practiced elongation of heads at birth. Likewise, trepanning, the earliest form of brain surgery, existed simultaneously throughout the prehistoric world. The Nazca people of Peru even hunted heads for trophies from their enemies. The great goddess Athena was born from Zeus’ head. Ossuaries and crypts full of skulls survive even from the Medieval periods to attest for our fascination with heads.

The Bronze Age inhabitants of Crete, the Minoans, have taught me the most about my head. You see, I plan to devote my life to the study of their civilization and I am endlessly fascinated by their burial customs with skulls. From 3000-2000 BCE they widely created monumental tombs filled with skulls. I ask myself: did they, like me, believe the head is the seat of knowledge and intellect? Why is it so important that of all the bones, they heaped up skulls for preservation? Did one of those skulls sitting on the dirt floor of the tomb also experience headaches?

For the longest time, I have pushed down my pain. I have given myself in self-sacrifice to others, ignoring the throbbing pain of even a hospital-level headache. I made my pain invisible to others and most importantly to myself. But as I study archaeology and Minoan skull practices, I realize that the Minoans were proud to display their skulls. They valued the visual (and possibly spiritual) effect that this physical container of the mind inspires. I believe that their arrangement of skulls reflects a sacred conception of the mind and its passage through life. Although just the shell of the individual is left, the Minoans nod to the temporality of life and pain by simply giving the skulls space to still exist. They teach me, their very passionate researcher, that my head, and my pain deserves visibility.

It is extraordinarily difficult to come to terms with physical, chronic pain, but it is apart of my experience in life. When I look at old skulls, I do not see just bone, but a whole individual with past emotions, creativity, and relationships. I need to give myself that same credit and value my whole lived experience, including the physical pain. It is odd that I must learn and share this lesson from ancient communities, but it is a fundamental human lesson. We must strive to allow ourselves the grace to accept our pain as a part of us, but not the limiting factor. We are visible and deserve to be heard! Don’t be afraid to share and make yourself visible, just like the old Minoan skulls.

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soshana lipson

Finding Myself with Migraine – Shoshana Lipson’s Story

People often look back on childhood memories with fondness – trips with family; playing with a puppy; long, hot summer days spent outdoors. For me, it is a slightly different story. One of my earliest childhood memories is of severe head pain. I’d tell my parents about explosive pain inside my head but I don’t think they really understood what I was going through. They tried to understand and to help, but couldn’t imagine why a child kept complaining of head pain.

More than 45 years later, I have been treated for migraine disease by many headache specialists and while the treatments may not have always been successful, they understood my pain. More importantly, I now understand my disease. For anyone reading this story, migraine disease is not an enigma. You understand this debilitating condition. The World Health Organization classifies migraine disease as one of the 10 most disabling medical illnesses. You understand that something as harmless as a spritz of perfume, a change in weather, or a glass of wine can potentially trigger an attack and send you running for a dark, silent room for days on end.

As I started analyzing my triggers, I kept an extensive migraine diary, hoping to find ways that I could help manage this complex neurological disease. Gradually I started to see a pattern of what I now know are the “risk factors” in my life – things that can trigger debilitating migraine attacks, especially when stacked together. Triggers are complex, vary from person to person – sometimes even attack to attack – and can have a greater impact when “stacked.” They include factors such as odors, light, noise, weather changes, humidity, medications, neck pain, eye strain, hormones, food, hydration, sleep patterns, and more! Slowly, I learned how to avoid some of these, but I am just not able to escape some of these factors such as perfume, drops in barometric pressure, or hormone fluctuations. I shared information with my doctors regularly, trying almost every old and new medication that was approved for migraine disease, and still, nothing really helped.

People with migraine disease often make tradeoffs with their medication. I dealt with some terrible side effects of the different treatments I tried – brain fog, nausea, dizziness, palpitations, asthma, stomach pain, allergic reactions – in addition to dealing with my migraine attacks. At one point, I spent most of my days trying to fight it off and it began impacting every part of my life. I wasn’t able to show up for my family and friends, I stopped making plans because I was convinced I wouldn’t be able to keep them and in a devastating blow, I felt like I was slipping away from work as well.

I realized a few years ago that there was no way I could keep a full-time job and deal with my migraine attacks and that was when I fought and won a three-year-long battle for disability due to my migraine disease. I had to jump through so many hurdles to explain to the authorities that migraine is, in fact, a disabling disease. And that’s when I realized what I needed to do – to be a voice for people with migraine disease and help others understand what it truly means to live with this disorder.

Over the last two years, this has become my life and I’ve finally found new purpose. I want to help others who are emotionally, physically, and financially impacted by this disease and use my voice to inspire others living through the pain. I’ve launched a website called Migraine Meanderings, a Facebook community support group for those interested in the new and emerging treatments, Hope for Migraine, and an advocacy-oriented migraine support group, Migraine Meanderings. I refuse to give up hope and am thankful every day for what I do.

While I have been trying to help uplift others, I also live with ongoing pain. Medications helped a bit, but managing the disease along with all my other comorbidities is difficult. It’s important to note that migraine affects everyone differently and therefore, treatments work differently for everyone. I want to share a message with all the readers – don’t give up hope. Tap into a support community, come join us online, keep asking questions, and never give up holding onto the future. It’s the only way forward for migraine warriors like us.

This blog post was created with support from Biohaven Pharmaceuticals.

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Aanya Patel

Calming My Storm – Aanya’s Story

The ironic tragedy of neurological disorders is that the human brain fails to comprehend itself. Unfortunately in the case of migraine disease, there has historically been a limited understanding of the underlying pathology of the disease. Even in the cases in which modern science has begun to explain migraine disease, that knowledge has not been broadly disseminated. Furthermore, the symptoms of migraine are felt and explained subjectively by the individual and it can be difficult for others to relate to those experiences. In the case of a broken arm, the patient’s recollection and explanation of the injury are not necessary to its diagnosis since the x-ray will indisputably prove whether their arm is broken. The pain is easily understood, because of the physical manifestation of the injury. However, the symptoms and discomfort that accompany migraine are difficult for one to cogently explain and for others to truly comprehend. Without a comprehensive understanding of this invisible illness, how can society begin to empathize with people who live with it every day?

In January 2018, I suffered a severe Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) when I slipped down the stairs at my home. Following my accident, I had extreme headaches, light and sound sensitivity, dizziness, and balance issues. Due to the severity of my symptoms, I was unable to return to school until April and even then only for short periods of time because the headaches and fatigue made it difficult to attend classes for more than an hour or two. Throughout the following summer, I suffered from headaches that my doctors believed to be a result of post-concussion syndrome. In mid-October, I began to experience more severe and persistent headaches, balance problems, difficulty concentrating, double vision, and weakness/loss of function on the left side of my body. As my post-concussion syndrome morphed into migraine disease, my parents and I sought advice and treatment from numerous neurologists. At each appointment, the doctor would ask if I felt alone in my experiences, and I would consistently answer “no”. I was surrounded by loving friends and family who always supported me, how could I be alone? It was not until I met a stranger with the same condition I had that I realized what my doctors were truly asking me.

Approximately 7 months after the onset of my migraine disease, I traveled to Kansas City for a student competition involving creative problem-solving in the STEM fields. That weekend a tornado was anticipated, and the changes in barometric pressure exacerbated my migraine attacks. The competition was held in a convention center that had bright lights and was crowded with students practicing projecting their voices. I was wearing sunglasses, earplugs, and using my neuromodulation (sTMS) device every 15 minutes. A woman nearby, Mary, asked my dad about the device and explained that she too lived with migraine and could sympathize with my pain. Although we had little in common beyond our illness, within minutes we were sharing the little “life hacks” that helped us get through the day. I talked about how impactful the sTMS had been for me and she shared the special migraine-relief glasses that had helped her that day. Mary was the first person I interacted with who had experienced my symptoms and the conversation made me realize just how “alone” I had been before. She had overcome the initial awkwardness that accompanies inquiring about another’s medical condition and the conversation that resulted had a huge impact on me. I wanted to share the impact of that simple connection with as many others as possible and I realized that I could do so by being an advocate.

At first, the thought of talking about myself and my experiences repeatedly felt deeply uncomfortable. However, as I researched non-sports-related concussions, I discovered that people like me rarely shared their stories. I wanted to be a small part of helping my peers feel less alone, and from my brief conversation with Mary, I knew small interactions could leave a big impression.

I feel that by sharing my story, I could contribute to a greater understanding both by correcting misconceptions held by those who do not have this condition and by confirming to those with the condition that they are not alone in their experiences. Previously, I felt that discussing my challenges would result in my teachers and peers questioning my abilities and as a result, I rarely discussed my migraine triggers with anyone. I noticed that my migraine attacks were triggered during Chemistry class whenever the teacher paced across the room while writing notes on the board. When I finally opened up to my teacher about my story and the effect migraine disease had on me, we collaborated on a simple solution in which she provided my class notes in advance (and a comically large periodic table!). I had been reticent to communicate about my illness because I felt it would cause others to believe I was less capable, but in reality, only by taking that critical step would I be able to prove my capabilities. As a result of this experience, I hope a student with similar circumstances as me will not feel judged for requesting accommodations beneficial to their health and circumstances.

I discovered the true power of advocacy and its ability to allow you to form connections with people who have similar experiences. Through my advocacy efforts, I connected with a young woman who shared an eerily similar story like mine, as she too slipped downstairs in 2018, and suffered a severe concussion. We both had contemplated how our lives would have been if we had just walked down the stairs more cautiously that day. We both now walk gingerly downstairs, holding the railing, out of fear of repeating our fall. We laughed together wistfully as we noted that we truly were not alone!

Recognizing the importance of connecting with others and sharing the knowledge that I gained and continue to develop led me to start Calming My Storm, a New Jersey nonprofit organization that works to support people with concussions and migraine disease with expert interviews, educational resources, and personal narratives. We aspire to help find ways for people living with migraine to achieve their goals and strive for their dreams while recovering from their illness. For more information, visit calmingmystorm.com or follow our Instagram @calming.my.storm.

I am passionate about advocacy because it fosters understanding, which in turn leads to empathy instead of apathy, and ultimately translates into better outcomes for those seeking to overcome the challenges of this illness. Each small act of advocacy contributes to transforming society while simultaneously helping individuals and resulting in the formation of enduring relationships.

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Shelley’s Story of Resilience

My migraine story began a decade ago when I was in university. I was studying for an exam one day when suddenly I began vomiting without warning. I did not realize that this was my first migraine until much later when I began having more frequent attacks featuring other symptoms as well. I am now all too familiar with the various expressions of my migraines, ranging from a simple dull ache above a drooping eye, to a throbbing ice pick in the back of my head accompanied by nausea, vomiting, numbness, shaking, fatigue, nasal congestion, and neck pain. My migraines have changed so much over time in terms of presentation and frequency. More recently, I spent two years with chronic migraine with up to 30 headache days per month and several visits to the ER for dehydration and status migrainosus. Although the physical pain was very difficult, the emotional toll of dealing with migraine every single day was exceptionally challenging. I was doing everything I could to hang out and keep up with my old life as best I could, but eventually, it caught up with me.

Migraine turned my life upside down and affected everything from my ability to pursue my career, to my finances, to my relationships, and to my capacity to engage in my favorite sports. I have dealt with the frustration of juggling multiple medical appointments without finding much relief from any of the prescribed preventative medications. Worse, I have dealt with a myriad of side effects that have made life even harder for me. Despite all this, living with migraine has had silver linings. I have learned to truly listen to my body and slow down my pace of life. I have had to make tough choices in prioritizing my own wellbeing and allowing myself the time and space to heal.

I have truly appreciated how lucky I am to be surrounded by supportive friends, family, and coworkers while recognizing the struggle of having an invisible illness in our society. I have made huge and healthy changes in my lifestyle that I would not have otherwise considered. I have learned to appreciate the smaller things in life that I used to take for granted. I have been paying much closer attention to the link between my physical and mental health too. For anyone out there who feels hopeless right now, like they will be stuck with their pain forever, please know that it can and will evolve. Even though I still have migraines nowadays, and my life is far from how I imagined it, I have shown myself that I am resilient and that I can still have a good life, just a different life than I expected.

The Migraine Monster & Me

The Migraine Monster is an unwelcome little buddy who is tethered to me throughout my life as I battle chronic migraine. This animated film is my submission to the American Migraine Foundation 5th Annual Migraine Moment Short Film Contest. This story portrays my reality living with this debilitating neurological disorder that is too often misunderstood. It shows the pain, the loneliness and the challenges she faces regularly, while also highlighting the triumphs and the value of her community of supporters.

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“I Know Upon Awakening” by Kathy O’Shea

I lift my head gingerly off the pillow this morning, and every morning, to know what kind of day I will live. When I awake with a full-blown attack, it’s often too late to “rescue” the force of the event I will face. If I lift my head and find it heavy to hold up, with that all too familiar deep pain in the right side of my neck, along the occipital nerve, my fate for the earlier future is still up in the air.

Sometimes I can stop it–that is if I can function well enough to break the glass vile, open the packages of syringe and filter needle, fill the syringe with the DHE, change back the end of the syringe from the filter to the needle, and give myself an injection in my thigh. If I can think clearly enough to remember the anti-nausea medicine, I may be spared an additional agony.

If the pain moves to a throbbing, pounding pain behind my right eye, I haven’t caught it in time, and the nausea and vomiting are much more agonizing, trying to survive, having my head and arms lying on the toilet seat as I try to vomit away the nausea. Migraine has now taken ownership of my body and my psyche.

Another distinct possibility is that what I’ll carry with me this day and likely at least several more is extreme tightness in the right side of my neck, with pain so great in this one tiny spot deep in the muscles along the occipital nerve, I long for someone or something to bear down there with as much pressure as possible. The trigger points at the base of my skull feel like swollen knots, very tender to the touch. This day will be, with luck, “just” a functional day, one where I can carry on with only the skeleton of living.

These are the “functional” days, when I also carry the other, sometimes “invisible” parts of living with migraine: cognitive, memory, and psychological effects… The awful truth is that many of my symptoms, when in a “functional” stage, I can hide from all but close friends and family, but the hiding is such a struggle and further supports the opinion of so many that “It’s
just a headache.” Much of migraine is invisible to most and lonely for the migraineur. What’s not invisible is the ecstasy of waking up and knowing right away that the migraine cycle has broken; I lift my head on these days feeling like a real force has moved out of my brain and body; suddenly, I’m me again. Do some people wake up this way most days?

I never have more gratitude and mindfulness than I do when I experience this “lift.” I pay attention to all the beauty of the day, and I have energy because now I can live rather than exist—at least for this moment.

Excerpted from “I Know Upon Awakening” by Kathy O’Shea in So Much More than a Headache: Understanding Migraine through Literature. Edited by Kathy O’Shea. Copyright © 2020 by The Kent State University Press. Used by permission.

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Stephanie’s Story of Misdiagnosis

For years, I suffered with the debilitating symptoms of migraines, especially when the weather changed. The facial pain, vomiting, light sensitivity, and aura would last from hours to days at a time. I was always told “You just have a sinus infection” and was given antibiotics, and felt better for about 2 weeks until those symptoms returned. I reached a point where I thought that I was just going to have to learn to live with these symptoms. Migraines made me miss out on work, family events and time with friends. I felt frustrated and stuck. Finally, I found a doctor that truly listened to my concerns and we worked together to recognize my triggers and find a preventative medicine that helps me keep things under control. Speak up for yourself and be your own advocate, it may change your life!

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