Anna Maria

I remember my first migraine attacks around the age of 6 or 7 – the unbearable sharp pain on the left side of my head, nausea and vomiting. As a child, I used to imagine putting an electric drill to my temple to open a hole that would release the pressure. [Tweet this.] I remember withering with pain on the floor, crying that my head hurts and all the grown-ups looking at me with that “God this child is a drama queen” look. Even today at 52, it is such a vivid memory.

Every Saturday morning, I would go to the movie house to watch a double feature while eating my favorite candy, and every Saturday afternoon I would have a migraine and puke myself silly. Apparently, my love for movies was stronger than my fear of pain. My mother, who firmly believed that my migraines where induced psychosomatically, dragged me to all kinds of doctors to prove her theory.

I got migraines up until I got my period at around thirteen, when they miraculously stopped. They returned in my 20’s, but less intensely. I could function so long as I did not eat or drink a thing, not even water, because as soon as I did, the pain would strike double and I would get nausea. In my 40’s, my annoying life-long acquaintance, came back with a vengeance and is still with me today.

On my migraine days, I do not function. I put myself in Zombie mode by switching off my mind as even the process of thinking is painful. When I feel it rearing its ugly head into my world, I check the time. I know that for the next 24 hours, I will have to deal with it. Sometimes I cry from the pain, sometimes I convince myself that a migraine is necessary for my life, acting as a safety valve by keeping my system tuned. My heart goes out to all my fellow-sufferers. Hopefully one day in the near future, some amazing person will find the cure for this cruel and tormenting ailment that so many of us have been forced to live with most of our lives! [Tweet this.]