My Migraine Diagnosis Turned My World Upside Down — Then I Found A Whole New Sense Of Purpose

I saw my primary care provider (PCP) to address the dizziness, and she wrote it off as an ear infection or cold, nothing serious. When the lightheadedness continued, I assumed it was jet lag or stress from work. But then it kept getting worse, to the point it was distracting and made it difficult for me to do my job. My PCP tried a couple of different treatments, including a round of steroids, which ultimately made me feel even more awful. So she referred me to an ENT who ran a slew of tests but wasn't sure what was going on either—there wasn't anything textbook about my symptoms.

Then the ENT referred me out to a chiropractic clinic that focused on vestibular rehab, where they concluded I had a weakness in my inner ear but (once again) weren't quite sure what it was from. They thought it may be vestibular neuritis, an inner ear disorder that causes dizziness.

I later went to Dallas to see the best neurologist in the country. His only input? I was anxious and stressed. But I knew it was something more.

I remember one day I was sitting in my parked car, after taking my co-workers to lunch. Suddenly, I slammed on my brakes because it felt like the car was moving forward—but we were totally sitting still, and everyone looked at me like I was nuts. Incidents like this kept happening. It made me too nervous to drive, and I felt like I was losing my mind.

Eventually, I could hardly look at the computer without vomiting from dizziness, and things were just progressively getting worse, making it impossible to do my job. However, since I didn't have an official diagnosis, no one would approve my medical leave paperwork. My ENT didn't want to sign off on it because he didn't see anything wrong with me. When every expert is telling you nothing is wrong, and you know that's not the case, you do start to question your sanity. I truly felt so unseen, like I wasn't worth anyone's time and effort.

I knew I couldn't wait 10 months for potential help. I had already lost my life, and I would certainly lose my job. At that point in time, I spent all day resting on the couch and fighting with insurance on the phone. I couldn't imagine that this would be how I would live out the rest of my days.

Fortunately, one of my friends had connections to the Mayo Clinic in Arizona, and I was able to get an appointment. So my husband and I drove 16 hours to the clinic, I went through two days of testing, and then the doctor walked in with his answer. "Oh, you have migraines," he told me plainly. I was so confused because I didn't get head pain. But he explained that there are different types of migraines.

He shared that mine is known as a vestibular migraine, and it can present with or without headaches. Instead, you get other symptoms of migraine that can include light sensitivity, vertigo, dizziness, nausea, brain fog, fatigue, or even difficulty finding words. Plus, there's a vestibular component to it, where it affects your inner ear, and you get off balance. The triggers can range from lack of sleep to stress, menstrual cycle, bright lights, or food sensitivities.

Then he explained that since it's such a new type of migraine, he wasn't equipped to treat it. In fact, there were only about 10 doctors in the country at the time who specialize in vestibular migraine. That's right: 10.

Nutrition is also a significant part of my treatment strategy, and I learned a lot about migraine diets through my experience. In general, the approach focuses on eliminating potential triggers and seeing what has an impact on symptoms. For instance, a lot of people have sensitivities to MSG, or just glutamate in general—which is found in foods like mushrooms, Parmesan cheese, soy sauce, and even nutritional yeast. Some doctors will tell people with migraines to avoid wine, chocolate, caffeine, or any aged foods that contain the amino acid tyramine.

Even once I found a treatment plan, it still took over a year and a half to have dizzy-free moments. I ultimately left my job, and I felt very lost and worthless. I could feel depression starting to set in, and I knew I needed something to reshape my focus and make me feel worthwhile.

It occurred to me that there was a huge need in the community for people who were experiencing symptoms like mine. There weren't any resources for people with vestibular migraine, or migraine diets. So I set out to create a fun, accessible blog with a specific goal in mind: I wanted to share simple, migraine-friendly recipes, along with resources and information for others with vestibular migraine.

So six years ago, I bought a website, taught myself photography, learned how to write recipes, and I researched and spoke with doctors about migraine treatments, particularly for vestibular migraine. Then, my blog The Dizzy Cook was born. It was a great way to pivot my energy and feel like I had something to work toward—I was helping people, and it gave me purpose.

My migraine story, as wild as it may sound, is not unique. It's an extremely common experience in the migraine community, and it breaks my heart. Awareness is certainly getting better, but it still has a long way to go.

Even with my own loved ones, it's been challenging to convey what I'm going through—because my symptoms aren't visible. My husband didn't really get it until I started taking him to my neurologist appointments, and my parents didn't know how hard it was until they read my book. When my friends see me now, they'll say I look so good—but they don't always realize I'm still dealing with a chronic illness because I appear "normal."

But even if no one can see it, vestibular migraine affect everyday life. I'm still taking my medications and supplements, cooking certain meals, doing my meditations, wearing my migraine glasses so I don't get dizzy spells at the computer—the list goes on.

When I fly, I board early to make sure I'm in a certain seat on the airplane—in the middle of the plane, an aisle seat—to minimize my chances of a vertigo attack. However, since I look young and healthy, people often give me dirty looks—but that's just something I've learned to deal with.