I thrive on social interaction. Spending time with friends fills me with joy, and I don’t shy away from crowds or new faces. Recently, however, I’ve had to be more selective about my social engagements—not because I’m over-scheduled or fatigued, but due to my chronic pain.
My life revolves around managing frequent migraine attacks. Each decision I make is geared toward preventing the next debilitating episode. This often leads to me canceling plans or skipping outings that I genuinely want to attend. I’ve had to learn to conserve my energy and assess whether I can handle the potential fallout of a night out. So, when I decline an invitation to hang out, it’s not always due to illness; it’s because I’m trying to avoid feeling sick.
Specifically, I suffer from occipital migraines. This form of migraine stems from tense neck muscles, which can be triggered by stress or my struggle to maintain proper posture. The tension creates a painful knot at the base of my skull, compressing my occipital nerves and resulting in intense migraines that leave me hypersensitive to light and sound. During these attacks, I often find myself in bed, overwhelmed and waiting for my medication to take effect.
At times, my pain can be so severe that it lands me in the hospital after days of suffering. I do my best to manage my condition and prevent these episodes from escalating.
In my efforts to minimize triggers, I’ve made lifestyle changes. For instance, I’ve hired a housekeeper to alleviate the stress of household chores that can worsen my pain. This allows me to maintain a clean home without the physical strain of scrubbing and bending. No matter how busy or unwell I feel, I know my house will be tidied every other Thursday.
When friends invite me out, I carefully evaluate my calendar. If I have prior commitments, like my son’s IEP meeting or a packed week, I often have to say no. Even though I’d love to join my friends, I recognize that overextending myself could lead to an overwhelming migraine.
It’s also challenging to explain my condition to others. For instance, when a fellow mom invites me to a PTA meeting with enticing offers of childcare and pizza, I must respectfully decline. I genuinely want to engage more with other parents, but I have to prioritize my health. Often, I find myself at home, relaxing with my husband, instead of attending events. It’s easier to say I’m busy than to delve into my struggles with migraines and face unsolicited advice about treatments that may not apply to my specific situation.
This constant juggling of social expectations and personal health can make me feel self-conscious. Canceling plans or retreating from social interactions might come off as laziness or flakiness. I often worry about how others perceive me, especially when I shuffle into school to pick up my son, wearing oversized sunglasses and a cozy sweater, barely able to keep my eyes open due to a migraine. I’ve even thought about wearing a hat that says “Migraine in Progress” to ward off curious stares and questions.
The reality of chronic illness is that we often appear fine on the outside—maybe a bit tired or moody—but we are far from okay. The judgment that comes from managing these conditions can exacerbate the pain and lead to further withdrawal from social situations to avoid repetitive questions or side-eye glances.
So, please understand that while I would love to join you for a mom’s night out or help with the book fair, some days, I simply can’t.