A Childhood Mishap to Remember

I lived on the second floor of a large brick apartment house, which was part of a very big complex filled with similar buildings. Every day, I walked to school on my own, something that felt perfectly normal at the time. One morning, as I headed down the stairs from my apartment, I noticed an empty light bulb socket in the stairwell. For reasons I still can't quite explain—maybe curiosity, maybe boredom—I decided to stick my fingers into it.

The aftermath

When I came to, I was lying at the bottom of the flight of stairs. Somehow, I managed to get up and continue my walk to school like nothing had happened. I didn’t tell anyone what I had done.

After being in class for about an hour, my vision suddenly changed. I started seeing clear snakes or worms moving across my field of vision. It was surreal and disorienting. Then, I was hit with a wave of overwhelming nausea and ended up throwing up into a nearby trash can. I was sent to the nurse’s office, and my mother came to pick me up shortly after.

A family history of Migraine

She and her father both had a history of migraines, so she immediately recognized the symptoms right away. Sure enough, before long, it felt like a spear was being pushed out through my right eye. She put me in a hot bath, gave me aspirin and coffee, and then laid me down in a dark room. That was the beginning of my migraine journey, which continued until I was 17 — when I fell down another flight of stairs and broke my nose.

These days, I have vestibular migraines: aura, nausea, intense vertigo — but thankfully, no pain. It’s strange how something invisible can make you feel so completely off-balance. Still, I’ve learned to adapt and be gentle with myself.