It has become increasingly clear to me that there is no ONE SIZE FITS all approach to overcoming migraines. Migraine pain seems to come from an intensely personal, deep down, place within each of us, and as such, the causes, symptoms and treatment options will be equally individual.
There are some lucky people I speak to, for whom medical interventions work wonders (they receive a new script from their doctor and their pain disappears). For others, they are confident their migraines are physical manifestations, and by altering their physical being (be that hormonal, dietary, inflammation levels etc) they make improvements. Yet others can attribute their migraines to psychological issues, and counselling and Cognitive Behavior Therapy helps them reduce the frequency and severity of their attacks.
Over time, I began to notice that my migraines appeared to be related to a disconnect in my mind-body relationship. Mindfulness helped me regulate my exhausted nervous system which had become stuck in fight-and-flight rather than regularly returning to rest-and-digest as it was designed to do. But when I first started following the video suggestions on YouTube, I was often left feeling WORSE.
That’s why, as much as I recommend mindfulness as a solution to migraine pain – it might not work for everyone – or at least – not at first.
When I first started practicing some of the breathwork exercises I found online, for example, I felt like I was suffocating. A typical exercise might suggest you breathe in for the count of 4, hold your breath for the count of 4, breathe out for 4, hold your breath for 4, and so on, and on. The problem was, each time I held my breath, I felt panicky. Not breathing was completely counterintuitive, even for a few short seconds. When I was at my sickest, I didn’t notice, but I was often doing a rapid, shallow form of breathing which didn’t fill my lungs properly. Holding my breath made me feel light-headed, even faint.
Until I got better at breathing – slowly, deeply, at my own, intentional, self-determined pace – mindful breathing exercises made my anxiety worse, which fueled my pain more.
Similarly, when I first tried meditating, I felt very vulnerable sitting on a chair with my eyes closed. My rational brain knew I was safe in my own living room, and yet, my nervous system was wound up so tight, was so on edge, so used to sensing risk everywhere, that eyes-closed felt dangerous. I didn’t fully understand it at the time, but every instinct in my body was screaming “jump up and leave this space”. My nervous system was doing what it was designed to do: using its fight-or-flight protection mechanism… even if it wasn’t actually required in this instance.
Again, until I could restore a sense of safety within myself, sitting in still silence was not a comfortable experience. I found a way around this in the early days by keeping my eyes open, and gazing gently at the floor in front of me. Over time, I would close my eyes and see if it felt ok; leave them shut if I felt safe / reopen them gently if not.
Yet another example came from a discussion with a yoga teacher I had in my early days of trying to heal my chronic migraine. My neurologist had suggested that cardio was an excellent way to overcome migraines, and High Intensity Impact Training was even better. I’ve mentioned before (here) that I was furious at the suggestion. Me? Running up and down stairs? With a migraine? On what planet did that make sense? Never in my life had HIIT been something I would be into, and certainly not something I would take up now.
When I mentioned the recommendation (and my resistance) to the yoga teacher, she agreed with me. She said that it made no sense to place my body into a state that was aligned with my primal fight-or-flight style of behavior (think cavemen running from Sabre tooth tigers or lifting weights as if I was preparing to throw a spear). Rest-and-digest, safety and security were what my nervous system needed.
Yoga, yes, meditation, yes, but also walking through nature, having a nana-nap in the afternoon, sipping warm tea, protecting my boundaries and so on…
Once my body was properly restored into a place where rest-and-digest were the norm (I’m still working on that), then, and probably only then, would cardio be of value to me.
[For ME – remember – everyone is different, so cardio might be amazing for you here and now – DISCLAIMER – just be sure to talk to your doctor before making any radical changes to your treatment routine.]
Mindfulness is now my happy place.
I like to breathe intentionally. I enjoy mindful movement (Tai Chi is my favorite – but I practice it in a “mindful-lite” manner all of my own making). I feel at peace with my eyes closed (most of the time – and when I don’t feel safe, I notice that unease and wonder why (with my eyes reopened)).
Stressing less, finding peace within our environment, improving our relationship with our inner-self, addressing unresolved traumas, eating better, sleeping more, resting often, recalibrating our sensitivity to triggers… ALL of these seem to be cogs in the wheel of healing… and more.
Physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, creative, social, hormonal, nutritionally, mind-bodily, and, and…
Humans are complex beings.
We are all you-nique.
It makes sense that our illness, and our wellness, will also be individual and complex.
Don’t despair, however, as overwhelming as that might seem, it is not all bad news. In fact, I think it is good news. It means you haven’t “tried everything” yet, or every combination of things.
Be gentle with yourself on this healing journey, keep experimenting, adjusting, slowly, slowly…
Keep nudging the bounds of healing. Don’t assume that you are constrained by what others tell you, or what you have done up until now.
Play to your strengths, accept your fragility, make space for your thoughts, honor your feelings, listen to your body, keep going, keep growing.
We got this.
Take care taking care, every which way, Linda xx
The Mindful Migraine 
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