Migraine: My Uninvited Guest

Tiny symptoms. They are the things no one else would notice or think to connect if they lived inside my body. It's why I will never tell you the phases of a migraine or what "phase I'm in" when I explain a symptom, because for me it's a daily event. I pretend like they don't exist but inside my body and my mind I recognize them as that uninvited dinner guest that just won't take the hint and leave.

Even as I type this my fingers are not cooperating. Spelling is perpetually a challenge for me in general, so brain to finger obstacles can be even more annoying.

I started the Morning Migraine Audit at 4:30am today. Waking that early is generally not a good sign. My mind whirling with no ability to calm down. My leg, or my motor as my aunt used to call it, starts up too. Laying in bed jittering my foot, as if my body thinks the vibration will somehow lull me back to a restful state. Just the opposite is true.

Yeah, seriously I wish I could show you the way I've typed this. Opposite gets three 'p's' not two, letters missed in words because either my mind leaves them behind because the blender is picking up speed or my fingers are starting to go numb and I miss the key all together. I tend to think it's the former right now, as I have seen this pattern play out time and time again.

So why wouldn't I just stop writing and sit down and rest? Because this runs in the background of my mind on a daily basis (yup spelled it "bassi" twice before putting it in the right order, I know what's coming and could not be more annoyed) and even though this is probably a sign of things to come, sometimes it can pass.

The thing is it's a double edged sword. I start to get anxious about getting a full blown Hemiplegic Migraine episode, which can then trigger me into bringing one on because stress for me is a major factor. At the same time, if I go "sit and rest" I would pretty much be sitting and resting every minute of every day. Allowing myself to be consumed with worry accomplishes nothing. And as it is, some symptoms are much harder to push through than others, so when the moment is there for the taking, I don't sit around and rest. I can't.

Yesterday I had less to over-analyze, which can be disorienting in its own right. I got up, I passed my audit, I ran, lifted some weights, showered, dug the kitchen out from a mountain of dishes because the dog has her own dietary needs and now I have to make batches of her food every few weeks too. We are quite the duo!

Then I watched a couple of episodes of a show with my husband Craig on FaceTime. He lives overseas and we have "date nights" on Friday's and Saturday's because that is the established weekend in the Middle East where he is. He's 8 hours ahead so it's night for him, day for me.

After that I had lunch with a friend that I haven't seen in a while. It was a long lunch and when we left I started the evaluation all over again. If it were three years ago I would have left a 2 hour lunch with a raging headache so bad that my eyes would be blurry. I would have had to sit in the car for at least 10 minutes to find some stillness before dragging myself home. Then I'd collapse on the couch, popping Tylenol on my way down for the remainder of the night.

But yesterday, I felt good. Why is it different now than it was three years ago? Lots of reasons honestly, too much to go all the way through now, but here's what I paid most attention to.

Let me just pause here and let you know what is actually happening in my body right in this moment. I'm a little woozy now, my fingers feel tingly and as if gravity is not having the same effect on my body as it should. My ear has started to tighten, my heart is racing in a way that tightens my throat, a familiar kind of discomfort. I am pausing between words as I type because it's getting harder to figure out the right sequence of letters or my thought pattern all together. I want to stop, but I also really don't want to. I hate giving into it. I have healed so much it feels defeating when strong symptoms bubble to the surface.

But I definitely had to stop. Thirty minutes outside with soft music, trying to get the electricity to calm down in my body. Typing is still a struggle but I feel more refreshed. I'm thankful it's cloudy and not extremely humid today because the ground and the fresh air rejuvenate me in ways that are hard to articulate. But once you find a peace inside that kind of grounding it becomes almost addicting.

I know what my body needs in these moments, it's about allowing myself to listen and be guided, rather than trying to tell it what it needs. I used to try to force myself to go right when I truly needed to go left.

Starting to get a little headache, but that for me, is a good sign. It means the energy is dispersing in my body and the outside did what I needed it to do. I will take the headache pain because I know how to heal from that easier, and I also know that pain. It's like a friend I intuitively know how to soothe, intimately understanding her pain points. And if I can't make her feel better I can likely push through because I'm so used to it. To be honest with you, it's almost weird to not have a little twinge of pain somewhere in my head.

Let's regroup, back to yesterday. More listening instead of directing. We met at an Irish pub we both love, but it's also very loud, especially on a Friday afternoon. I arrive early and sit at the bar. I'm aware that I'm a little bit tired from my workout and from watching TV before going out, which is admittedly not the best motivation for anyone. So caffeine feels appropriate, I actually decided on coffee before I even got out of the car. Not only for an energy boost, but a preemptive attack on any vascular issues that I might encounter during our lunch. Caffeine has vasoconstrictive properties, which is why it appears in some migraine medications. I didn't feel like I needed it for any headache pain at the time, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

I sit down and to my left is a couple sipping espresso martini's and damn did those look good. I miss alcohol I won't lie. I miss the social element of it more than anything else, but that bite it gives to cocktails, it's something that a mocktail just can't replicate.

It looks good and I want one, so I order a virgin. I get the caffeine, I get to feel like I'm indulging and I don't have to order hot coffee on an already muggy afternoon. As I sip it my stomach quickly reminds me that after I worked out I did not have a sufficient breakfast. Watermelon and a homemade protein bar is hours behind me, and caffeine on this sensitized tummy can spiral quickly. Now I'm hoping she arrives soon because I need something to absorb my delicious treat.

The other main thing I need to stay conscious of is how loud it gets. This is more for my hearing. If you read They Cut Into My Ear While I Was Awake, No One Ever Asked What That Did To My Brain, then you know I am going to have trouble hearing in a crowd. But the strain of trying to listen combined with the escalating energy of a room and a hyper focused conversation can lead to my nervous system going into overload very quickly.

I have learned to constantly return to my breath even during a conversation. I've learned to ground as much as possible and notice when my spine starts to feel like it's being electrocuted.

Read an excerpt from my upcoming book Sick of Being Sick:
The Morning Migraine Audit

It's these tiny symptoms and the little details of my particular body that I pay attention to. I lean into how to hold myself gently. I am better at this in a public setting, I'm sure that is obvious here, since I really resisted caring for myself while I wrote this. But yesterday I was able to sit with a friend for two hours and get ahead of anything that might have been a trigger.

Now could today just be rolling over from yesterday? Yeah that's possible, because my symptoms are never linear and they take on a life of their own. But what I know is three years ago I would not have listened to my body. Not that I didn't want to, just that I didn't know how to. I didn't understand why I needed to listen so intently and how hearing what it had to say would help me get through a lunch or allow me to write. Maybe I'm not writing as fast or as fluid as I would like today, but I'm here an hour later, feeling just a little better and writing it all down.

My fingers are even starting to cooperate. I will definitely be writing about grounding as a modalities piece and all that entails, so keep an eye out for that. It has genuinely changed my life, but it requires more than just going outside and sitting in a chair.

We will get there. But for today, it's just 10am and I'm feeling better. And that's enough for me.

Amanda Richardson, BCDFN, CFNC is a Board Certified Doctor of Functional Nutrition, researcher, and publisher of Migraine Unread. She lives with hemiplegic migraine and has made it her mission to connect the dots that conventional medicine never thought to connect. Her upcoming book Sick of Being Sick is set to be released early 2027. Work with Amanda at AmandaRichardson.co.