Migraines: the sword of Damocles
"So, Damocles, since this life delights you, do you wish to taste it yourself and make trial of my fortune?"
When Damocles said that he desired this, Dionysius gave orders that the man be placed on a golden couch covered with a most beautiful woven rug, embroidered with splendid works; he adorned many sideboards with chased silver and gold; then he gave orders that chosen boys of outstanding beauty should stand by his table and that they, watching for a sign from Damocles, should attentively wait on him; there were unguents and garlands; perfumes were burning; tables were piled up with the most select foods. Damocles seemed to himself fortunate.
In the middle of this luxury Dionysius ordered that a shining sword, fastened from the ceiling by a horse-hair, be let down so that it hung over the neck of that fortunate man. And so he looked neither at those handsome waiters nor the wonderful silver work, nor did he stretch his hand to the table. Now the very wreaths slipped off. Finally he begged the tyrant that he should be allowed to depart because he no longer wanted to be fortunate.
--Cicero's Tusculan disputations 5.61, translation by Gavin Betts.
Migraines lurk behind every seemingly good thing. The sun is out? Migraine. Done with exams? Migraine. Great workout? Migraine. Exciting travel? You better believe there's a migraine in store at the end. Do something random like catch a fluorescent light from a weird corner of my eye? Bonus migraine!
My migraines aren't even that bad or frequent. I only get one or two that last about 6 hours every few months (for perspective, an estimated 1.3% of the US population has chronic migraine with 15 or more headache days per month). I have at least 15 minutes heads-up when I get aura, sometimes longer if I'm really paying attention to my vision and how I feel. The pain is manageable if I can get to a dark, quiet room before the headache comes on and not have to talk to anyone while I ride it out. Sometimes I throw up, but only if I had to move too much after the onset.
The worst part is the psychological symptoms. If I'm not mindful of the pain creeping in, it tanks my mood and convinces me the world is nothing but aching and dissatisfaction. Sometimes I get migraines in my sleep and wake up in the headache stage. Waking up is always a relief, even though I'm still stuck with the pain, because it frees me from a limbo of desperate, tortured dreams inspired by the migraine. Even at the best of times-- saw the migraine coming, got to safety, maximum pain mitigation-- migraines bring me down. They are powerful and fickle god that I have to drop everything and appease.
No, my migraines are just bad enough, preventable enough, and come with just enough warning that worrying about them consumes a big part of my life. They are the sword of Damocles because they attend the good things in life. The threat of migraine tinges the most potent and exciting developments in my world. Throw myself into a project and live a little immoderately? Migraine. Should have seen that one coming. Big performance? What if I suddenly go blind? What if my face goes numb and I can't even fake my way through? This is not even to get into the worries that my migraine symptoms are actuallly a stroke this time...
It's easy for the migraine reward schedule to give my intuition the idea that there's something vaguely sinister about exciting and happy things. I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I have to work hard to convince myself that migraines aren't my punishment for getting uppity. (I should have known better than to go outside!!!) Fortunately, that idea doesn't make any logical sense. Migraines are a nasty god whose power I need to respect, but the god's jurisdiction is much smaller than the territory I let it occupy. 24-60 hours of my year are forfeit. I will spend those hours in bed (or in hell on earth: heaving up my guts in a train bathroom-- whatever the case may be) trying not to provoke my tormentor any further. I don't need to sacrifice any more of my life to this asshole in the hopes my meekness will move it to pity.
I may be stuck with migraines but I'm hereby opting out of crippling migraine dread. Let the sword fall. Because, in this case, "prevention" is worse than the disease.