We are excited to share this guest post with you from our community member Emily Jordan.
Emily Jordan was diagnosed with chronic migraine at age 20 while at college. While she has been tremendously impacted by the diagnosis, Emily finds life to be full and blessed in spite of it. She manages her health through a combination of conventional, natural medicine and yoga therapy. She lives in the Midwest with her husband and overly attached dog. They are enjoying a new season of parenting as their son studies at college. She is a writer and leads a ministry for stepmoms.
Pain is a personal journey. I find it difficult to talk about. My mom calls every day to check on me and every day I tell her, “I’m fine.” She knows sometimes I’m lying.
Difficulty with words
I have always loved words. One of my favorite things to do is wander a bookstore, holding a hot latte in my hand. I was diagnosed with chronic migraine roughly 16 years ago. Words have been one of the casualties of my diagnosis. On the hard days, I have a difficult time absorbing and retaining what I read. During a migraine, words are just lost on my tongue. My mind draws a blank on what possible word could fit in a sentence.
I love to write but often find myself staring blankly at a page, wondering where all the words have gone. To write about my migraine and express my struggle is deeply personal. I’d like to write “I’m fine” and carry on my way. That would be a very short entry, which some of you with migraine right now would appreciate!
Talking about the pain
Sharing our journey is painful. We want to look away, to ignore it for ourselves and push through. But I have learned through the migraine community that sharing our ups and downs is incredibly beneficial. We need to experience our own triumphs, and to pave the way for others.
Countless times when I am buried deep in a migraine cycle, my mental wheels start to spin. I will start to think that this only happens to me, the pain will never end, I’ve run out of my usual tricks and start to panic. I reach for my phone on the nightstand and search for the migraine community. And there you are. Reassuring me, sharing something I haven’t tried in the past, reminding me that I am not alone with my pain.
And so I write. I push through the migraine fog and try to put a few words on this blank page. As a migraine veteran, it’s my turn. I want you to know that we all share this pain. You are not alone. I’m reaching out a timid hand to say instead of “I’m fine” but a gentle “Me too.”