Coping, Symptoms, Treatment, Triggers

Good Morning! Common Morning Headaches Not So Common for Me (Lately)

It seems that if I don’t wake up with a migraine, I feel pretty good in the morning. The headaches aren’t too bad and other migraine symptoms are mild. I generally wake up with energy and high hopes for the day. Granted, this doesn’t happen frequently these days and I crash two or three hours later. But still. . . .

Is imploding at 11 a.m. inevitable or is morning truly better? Can I stretch out the low pain times by waking up earlier? There’s a complicating factor, though. I’ve had energy bursts the last two evenings and they’ve lasted until I go to bed. I’ve been up past midnight both nights, which precludes waking up early.

Do I go to bed earlier so I can try mornings or hope that evenings continue to be good? The second isn’t guaranteed, but so much more appealing.

I’m not sure why I’m dithering so much. Of course I have to at least try to extend my good mornings by waking up earlier. No reason to waste the potential gift.

Unfortunately, many people don’t have my luck — many people wake up with a headache every day. Possible causes are numerous: Migraines, tension-type headaches, rebound headaches, dehydration, sleeping with your neck at a strange angle, sleeping too long, caffeine withdrawal, normal physiological fluctuations. …

In other words, figuring out what’s wrong isn’t simple. Seeing your doctor is the best way to get on the right treatment path. The good news is that morning headaches are rarely a sign of life-threatening headaches.

Chronic Migraine, Coping, Mental Health

Proving to Myself I’m Not a Faker

Everyone else will tell me that I couldn’t possibly be exaggerating my symptoms or being lazy. Too bad I tell myself the opposite. Pretty much constantly the last few days.

Last Tuesday, I ran errands, napped and saw my massage therapist. I was home by 3 p.m. and crashed — for the rest of the week. Beyond getting mail from the front porch, I literally didn’t leave my house until Saturday night.

Yet I’m convinced that I’m faking it. That my headaches and migraines haven’t been too bad; they’re an an excuse to read instead of attending to everything else in my life. So I have pushed myself to clean the contents of our basement (which flooded last Monday) out of the dining room and empty the dishwasher and check e-mail. And, and, and.

For once, I’m remembering that I’m not guiding this illness. I have been so sick the last two months that I can’t even keep appointments with doctors and massage therapists. As much as I berate myself for not actively seeking treatment, I know that I am honestly unable to right now.

I’m holding tight to the good hours I’ve had in the last week. Thursday and Saturday started well; Friday was good overall. Each day I was up and active until the pain, fogginess and nausea overwhelmed me. I was thrilled to be doing chores.

This isn’t the life of a faker. I’m not a faker. If only I were — I could be free of this misery and piece my life back together. I know all this deep down, but my mind stalls at self-criticism. Today I hear the faint murmurings of truth hiding under layers of doubt and judgment.