Living and Working with Ocular Migraines in the Tech Age: My Invisible Journey

There’s a certain irony to being a Digital Project Manager whose greatest trigger is digital overload. For years, I struggled with sudden ocular migraines—episodes where my vision blurred, my focus scattered, and I was left battling nausea and exhaustion. These weren’t just “bad headaches.” These were full-body shutdowns, often arriving without warning and forcing me to disappear from my workday without explanation.

At first, I didn’t know what was causing them. I assumed it was stress, or maybe poor posture. But over time, I began to notice a pattern: the bright glare of LED headlights while driving at night, the harsh flicker of fluorescent office lighting, the way my eyes would strain during deep focus on a glowing screen. These weren’t minor discomforts—they were neurological landmines.

It wasn’t until I experienced a particularly debilitating episode at work—where I could barely see a coworker's face through the visual aura, yet still felt pressured to perform—that I knew something had to change. Later, a doctor confirmed I was suffering from ocular migraines, a form of migraine that primarily impacts vision and often goes underdiagnosed. That diagnosis was a turning point. But the real healing? That came from learning how to live with them, instead of constantly pushing through them.

When the pandemic hit and remote work became the norm, I seized the opportunity to restructure my environment. Now, I work from home, where I can immediately lie down when symptoms hit instead of powering through under fluorescent lights. I wear blue light-filtering glasses, keep my screen settings dim, and use dark mode on all my devices. I’ve significantly reduced my caffeine and sugar intake, shifted to a more plant-based, raw-food diet, and embraced a holistic lifestyle that centers my nervous system, not just my productivity.

Meditation has been a game changer. When a migraine strikes, instead of spiraling into panic, I now close my eyes, breathe deeply, and let my body do what it needs to do. Sometimes that’s falling asleep. Sometimes it’s just being still. Either way, I don’t force myself to perform through the pain anymore—and that has made all the difference.

Ocular migraines haven’t disappeared, but my relationship with them has transformed. I’ve gone from feeling victimized by my body to partnering with it. I’ve learned that healing isn’t just medical—it’s also environmental, emotional, and spiritual. I’ve learned that invisible illnesses deserve visible compassion, especially in the workplace.

If you’re reading this and quietly suffering through similar experiences, I want you to know: You are not alone. Your pain is real. And with the right tools, boundaries, and support, you can create a life and career that works with your body—not against it.