The Silent Fight – My Migraine Journey

I’m 55 now, a single mum to three children aged 18, 24, and 34. They’ve never known a version of me untouched by migraine. This condition has woven itself into the fabric of our lives, casting shadows over birthdays, holidays, routines, and even the smallest moments. It has shaped my experience as a mother, daughter, sister, friend, and woman.

The first strikes

My migraine journey began at 15, though I remember the occasional “bad headache” as a child. The real monster appeared one long weekend at a friend’s house—violent head pain, vision loss, vomiting, and three days of misery. That same weekend marked the start of my menstrual cycle and, unknowingly, the start of a life ruled by migraine.

Compounding challenges

In the years that followed, I suffered two concussions—one from falling off a horse onto a rock, saved only by my helmet. By 18, my cycle was irregular and unpredictable, and every period brought debilitating head pain. At 20, I gave birth to my first child. The pill regulated my cycle, but the headaches never left.

Accidents and escalation

At 23, a whiplash accident changed everything. The “bad headaches” became more frequent and intense. I bounced between GP clinics, handed painkillers but no answers. No one grasped the magnitude of what I was enduring.

Diagnosis at last

It wasn’t until after my second child that I was referred to a neurologist at 30 and finally diagnosed with classic migraine and tension headache. Still, there was no clear plan. The pain wasn’t just in my head—it consumed my life, relentless and deeply embedded. I tried to work, to show up for my family, while silently battling a beast that never relented.

The weight of depression

By my early 30s, depression crept in. I was raising a toddler and a teenager alone, managing a home, and holding down a job I loved—until sick leave ran out and I was labeled “unreliable.” I began hiding my illness, pouring every ounce of energy into work, only to collapse at home with nothing left for my children or myself.

Trials and family life

At 35, in a committed relationship and still of childbearing age, I feared preventatives. After my youngest was born in 2006, I had a tubal ligation and began trialing preventatives. It was chaos—raising a baby, managing a blended family, navigating a struggling marriage, and watching my health decline.

Migraine and specialist care

Eventually, I was referred to a pain specialist at the city’s main hospital. We tried everything—different classes of preventatives, combinations, dose adjustments—but my migraines turned chronic. At one point, I was working two jobs and studying, pushing through unbearable pain while my marriage crumbled.

Loss and hysterectomy

When my pain specialist left, I was handed to another for Botox treatment. I felt lost. My marriage ended, debt piled up, and I grieved the life I had hoped for. In 2013, at 43, I had a hysterectomy (ovaries intact) due to endometriosis—a condition linked to migraine I didn’t know I had—but the hoped-for relief never came. Instead, the migraines intensified. Before he left, my original pain specialist had mentioned a promising new treatment in development: CGRP inhibitors. It felt like a distant hope.

Life-Changing Treatment

In 2018, Aimovig (erenumab) was approved in Australia. I was accepted into a familiarisation program and, for the first time in decades, my life changed. Migraines dropped by about 70%, acute medication use fell by 88%, and I could finally breathe. For the first time, I had to ask myself: What does life look like without constant fear of pain?

Ongoing challenges

But nothing lasts forever. After 28 months, the program ended. Without PBS coverage and at $1,500 a month, Aimovig was out of reach. I tried Emgality and Ajovy—helpful, but not as transformative. Eventually, I gained PBS access to Vyepti at 100mg, but the more effective 300mg dose remains unaffordable. Now, I supplement with candesartan and a cocktail of medications for not just migraine, but a growing list of comorbidities—hypothyroidism, GERD, allergies, and hormone imbalances.

Living with symptoms every day

I still live with symptoms most days—fatigue, brain fog, light and sound sensitivity. Even without head pain, migraine is always in the room with me. I work full-time running outreach programs, carrying the weight of being someone others depend on, but I’m tired. Retirement is not yet an option, financially or otherwise. I often wonder: How much longer can I keep this up?

Mental health and children

Some days, depression knocks. Some days, I feel invisible—at home, at work, in society. This isn’t the life I imagined at 55.

Still, I keep going. Not for the monster in my head, but for my children. All three live with migraine too, alongside their own health challenges. For years, I felt like I had failed them because of my illness. But I know now—that’s not the whole truth. I have fought every single day. And I still do.

Hope and resilience

There is no cure. In the world of migraine, “cure” is a cruel word. My goal has always been better management, more good days, and holding on to hope.

Thank you for reading. If you live with migraine, know this—you are not alone. There are others, like me, still searching, still standing, still hoping.

By a Chronic Migraine Warrior