The Best Way I've Learned To Manage Debilitating Headaches and Migraines

It Started With Pain I Couldn't Explain

I didn't grow up with migraines. They started in 2016 — after I had neck surgery to replace two discs at the cervical level. Before that surgery, I had never had a migraine in my life. After it, they became a regular part of my existence. What began as severe headaches in the weeks following recovery turned into something I couldn't predict, plan around, or push through. Some days I couldn't look at a screen. Some days I couldn't be in a room with normal light. Some days I just lay in a dark room and waited.

The neck surgery was one of six surgeries I've had. Both shoulders rebuilt. My left Achilles reattached. Prostate surgery. And two mechanical discs placed in my cervical spine — which is where the migraines came from. Chronic pain has been part of my life for a long time. But the migraines were something new, and something else entirely.

I saw neurologists. I tried medications — some helped a little, some made things worse. I had procedures done. I changed my diet. I tracked triggers. I did everything I was supposed to do. And still, the headaches kept coming.

The Memory Problem That Scared Me Most

At a certain point, I started noticing something that frightened me more than the pain itself. My short-term memory was slipping. I would forget what I had just said. I would lose words mid-sentence. I would walk into a room and have no idea why I was there. It happened often enough that I started wondering if something else was wrong — something worse.

I asked my neurologist about it. What he told me stayed with me. He said that when your head hurts that severely and that consistently, your nervous system can shift into a kind of survival mode. Fight-or-flight. In that state, your body is focused on getting through the threat. Higher functions — memory, patience, clear thinking, emotional regulation — can all take a back seat.

It wasn't Alzheimer's. It was my nervous system doing what nervous systems do when they feel under attack. It was trying to protect me.

That explanation changed something for me.

Learning To Work With My Body Instead of Against It

I started paying attention differently. Instead of just trying to stop the pain after it arrived, I started trying to notice what was happening before it got bad. The tightness in my neck. The way my shoulders crept up toward my ears. The shallow breathing I didn't even realize I was doing. The low-grade tension I had been carrying for so long it felt normal.

I started learning about the nervous system — not in a clinical way, but in a personal way. What does it feel like when I'm in fight-or-flight? What does it feel like when I'm calm? What can I actually do to move from one state to the other?

Breathing was a big part of it. Not deep breathing in the way people usually mean — big dramatic inhales. I mean slow, gentle breathing where the exhale is longer than the inhale. That pattern signals safety to the nervous system. It activates the parasympathetic response. It tells your body: the threat is not here right now. You can rest.

What I Do When A Headache Starts

I won't pretend I have this figured out. Some headaches still get bad. Some days I still end up in a dark room. But I have a better chance now of catching things early, and when I do, here is what I try:

• —I stop what I'm doing as soon as I notice the warning signs.
• —I remind myself out loud or in my head: "I'm safe. This will pass."
• —I drink water. Dehydration makes everything worse.
• —I slow my breathing down. I make my exhales longer than my inhales.
• —I let my shoulders drop. I unclench my jaw.
• —I do a slow scan of my body and try to release tension wherever I find it.
• —I picture somewhere calm — walking my dog, sitting outside, standing near water.
• —When I'm able, I move. Even a slow walk around the block can help.

None of this is a cure. It doesn't work every time. But it works often enough that I keep doing it.

The Dark Place

I want to be honest about something. There were times when the pain was so constant and so isolating that I didn't know how to keep going. When you hurt every day, when you can't work the way you used to, when you cancel plans and miss things and feel like a burden — it wears on you in ways that go beyond the physical.

If you are in that place right now, please know you are not alone. And please reach out to someone.

Why I Built BioBreathing

I built BioBreathing because I wanted to share what I've learned — not as a medical professional, but as someone who has lived with chronic pain and found things that help. The breathing practices here are grounded in biofeedback research and developed with a certified biofeedback practitioner who has years of experience working with chronic pain. They are not a replacement for medical care. They are a complement to it.

If you are dealing with headaches, migraines, chronic pain, or a nervous system that feels like it's always on edge — I hope something here helps you find a little more calm.

That's all I'm trying to do.

— Andrew