Despite frequently wondering what life would be like if I ever found an effective migraine treatment, I wasn’t prepared for the emotional whirlwind of it.
In the first couple weeks, elation and nervousness dominated my thoughts. Being able to do the normal, mundane things of life felt incredible, but I was also overwhelmed. I kept wondering what life would look like without constant migraines. What would I do with my days? What would work be like? Would I be able to resume friendships that have been on hold? How would Hart and I relate to each other? Would I still want to write about migraine? Nothing bad or worrisome was happening, but I couldn’t wrap my mind around how my day-to-day life would change.
After those first overwhelming, uncertainty-filled weeks, my thoughts mostly settled down, but I experienced four weeks of very strange anxiety. You know that fluttery nervous feeling you get in your stomach? I’d get that for a few seconds with every thought. And I mean EVERY thought, from “I need to downshift” while driving and “So that’s how they’re related” while watching a movie. My reaction to thoughts that actually provoked anxiety was exactly the same. The flutter happened less and less frequently over the four weeks until it disappeared.
Those are the stressful and strange reactions, but I’ve mostly been amazed by two things: how easy everything is and how present I am.
Showering no longer brings imminent collapse. The dining chairs and table are no longer too hard to sit at for meals. Making phone calls is no longer beyond my ability. Going to the grocery store is no longer the sole activity I can do in a day. Such simple things have taken maximum effort for the last 10 years. Without having to psyche myself up before every chore and not being exhausted by minimal tasks, everything seems unbelievably easy. This extends to writing, too — without constant brain fog, writing is so much easier. I’ve even been able to wade through tons of medical journal articles and understand them without trouble, then synthesize the findings into my own words.
And I no longer feel constantly separated from the world, unable to connect with other people or be truly present at any moment. My conversations are more interesting, being with friends is more fun, work doesn’t feel like work, my time with Hart is fantastic. I’ve always struggled to put that sense of disconnection into words — it’s like being at the bottom of a well or underwater. One blog reader said it was like being wrapped in cotton. Whatever the best metaphor is, the sensation of being separate, apart or disengaged is one that many people with chronic migraine seem to share. That was my normal for so long and, while I knew I felt that way, I didn’t know just how removed I was. I’ve been trying to practice mindfulness and presence the last six years without actually having the ability to be fully present.
I’m adjusting to this new normal. It’s exciting and nerve-wracking, familiar and strange. There’s no guarantee I will continue to feel this good indefinitely, so I’m trying to enjoy this time without getting too far ahead of myself. Mostly I’m letting my days unfold organically and approaching all these changes with wonder and awe.
- The Post I Never Thought I’d Get to Write (Jan. 23, 2014)
- Histamine Intolerance & DAO: Answers to Your Questions (Jan. 25, 2014)
- “Histamine Block” Does NOT Block Histamine! (Feb. 24, 2014)
- Mast Cell Disorders, DAO & Food Trigger Testing (Mar. 11, 2014)
5 thoughts on “Finding an Effective Migraine Treatment: An Emotional Whirlwind”
It is honestly exhilarating to read this. You’ve worked so hard, this is all so, so, wonderful. And with the bonus that it gives me the strength to keep searching for my best treatment. YAY YOU!!
Thanks, Amber. You are so kind and I’m so glad you can draw strength from my story. I wish you all the best and send you good vibes daily.
I too experienced the first low pain/no pain week in a long long time this past week. It’s amazing how much it changed my outlook on life, my emotions, my confidence and my energy. While I’m afraid it won’t last I lap up those good days and get the most I can out of them! It’s hard to imagine all the possibilities when you’ve spent years turning things down and isolated from the pain.
That’s so wonderful, Kerrie. I remember a similar “whirlwind” of emotion the first time I ever had Botox, in trials back in 2002 or so. That was the only time it worked, :/ but I hope your situationis much more permanent. Congratulations!