The Mindful Migraine

Right at eye height, on the shelf in my fridge this morning, there was a food container.  On the side of the container were the words ‘fuel your journey’.  It made me think not only about the nutrition that we require to keep our bodies going, but also how quickly our ‘fuel tank’ runs empty as chronic pain sufferers.

There is a popular metaphor that goes around the internet called ‘The Spoon Theory’.  In 2003, Christine Miserandino, an American lady with Lupus, used all the spoons on the table to explain to her friend the limitations that chronic pain had on her life.  For every task performed (be it showering, preparing a meal, walking the dog), a spoon was lost.  Unlike the unlimited potential of ‘normal’ people, ‘sick’ people only have a finite number of spoons to use.  At some point they must prioritize or run out. 

(You can read a summarised account here: Spoon theory – Wikipedia).

(A recount of the original version is here: But You Dont Look Sick? ).

I like metaphors (its what I’m writing my PhD about), and I like the clarity of ‘spooning out’ the energy you have with intentionality.  At the risk of sounding negative however, my problem is that I struggle to imagine others with an infinite number of spoons.  I can easily imagine myself holding a ‘bouquet of spoons’ as Miserandino alludes to.  I can’t as easily imagine my friends and family with handfuls, pocket-fulls, and drawers full of spoons.  Everyone has a finite number of spoons it’s just slightly different for each of us.  My parents are not especially unwell, but their spoon stash is significantly smaller than my teenage daughter’s by default.  Which I guess is the point of the analogy.

I wondered what it would like to change the metaphor into a good old-fashioned fuel tank.  ‘Normal’ people have a ‘normal’ tank that slowly depletes as they expend energy.  People in chronic pain have a different tank, one that allows them to ‘run on empty’ for much longer.  It means that we both start the day happy and full of potential.  By mid-morning we still look the same with our lime-green smiley faces.  By midday, however, differences begin to emerge.  The ‘normal’ people are entering neutral territory, whilst we are headed into more dangerous territory.  We’re already exhausted by the effort of staying upright for so many hours.  By the afternoon the difference is dramatic.  They’re feeling a bit weary (coffee and a donut will probably fix that).  We, on the other hand, are done.  We’re spent.  We’re ready for bed. We have nothing left to give.

A well-meaning person once said to me, ‘how can you be so tired when you spend so many hours in bed?’  I can’t remember how I replied.  I probably didn’t.  I get flustered by statements like that.

Now I would answer: My fuel tank’s different to yours.  Sucks to be me.  But there it is.  But before you judge me, or feel sorry for me, remember ‘different’ is not ‘weak’ or ‘broken’.  Different is just different.  And knowing that makes all the difference.

Take care, Linda x