“Seriously, you’re overreacting. I’m pretty sure it’s all in your head.”
The pain was so extreme I couldn’t even lift my head to look my best friend in the eye. I couldn’t even open my mouth to say, “Of course it’s all in my head, that’s what a migraine is: a severe pain that is literally all in my head.”
I don’t remember my very first migraine, but I do know I’ve had them chronically for half of my life. Sometime in fourth grade I started frequenting the school nurse’s office, looking for a place to lay down, massage my temples and cry. Toward the end of that year the nurse said that bad eyesight might be the cause. She suggested I get glasses.
So in fifth grade, that’s what I did. And it was great. For the entirety of fifth grade I do not recall suffering from a single migraine. But then my eyes got worse; the migraines returned so I got a new pair of glasses. They persisted. It was at this point I realized the throbbing pain in my head was not directly tied to my eyesight.
I conducted experiments to find my triggers and ended up with these: bad eyesight, lack of sleep, overheating, and surprisingly, raisins? I tried to avoid and remedy these potential triggers. It got to a point that my life revolved around preventing but inevitably suffering from migraines.
Not all migraines are equal. Some are a painful annoyance that makes your day worse, but still manageable. The worst kind will leave you incapable of opening your eyes without searing pain, restricting you to your bed for hours, even days. Occasionally you will throw up. My migraines have rarely been this bad, but they are certainly more on this end of the scale than just an occasional annoyance.
Because of my migraines, I have missed out on trips to the beach, school events in which I was supposed to perform, home football games, outings with friends and more. Sleeping off a migraine means that I lose hours of my life on a consistent basis, hours that could be spent with friends and family or doing the things I want to do.
This is why I was downright terrified to try this whole “college thing.” I’d heard so many stories about pulling all-nighters, and with lack of sleep being my number one trigger, I was afraid college would take me from chronic to constant pain.
To date, I have had thirteen migraines since I came here last semester. That is not unusual for me, even though I take daily prescribed medicine to prevent them. However, after coming here I have learned to manage the pain more effectively. I have found friends and faculty that are willing to help me balance classes and a chronic condition.
I am telling my story, not as a pity-party story, but as a way to raise awareness. If you have any health condition, whether physical or mental, I encourage you to get in contact with the Disability Services on campus. They have given me peace of mind because they offer resources to help me manage my condition and still experience college life. If you don’t have a chronic condition but know someone who does, I beg you to be understanding of them. They do not choose to be in pain — they wish they never knew this kind of pain.
Overall, life at Notre Dame has been a great experience so far. A migraine has popped up here and there, but I try not to let it hold me back from reaching my goals. If you are in need of any help because of an ongoing condition, I implore you to do two things: get help from those who will be able to assist you, and realize that a chronic condition does not define all of who you are. Yes, it might affect what you can do, but what you are capable of doing still matters. Don’t let a chronic condition take that away from you.
Interested in writing a “Her Story”? Please contact Rebecca Rogalski or Katrina Linden at notre-dame@hercampus.com