'Heaven have mercy on us all… for we are all somehow dreadfully cracked about the head, and sadly need mending.' – Herman Melville

This week I'm trying to have mercy* on myself. When I've been struggling to open packaging instead of doing it with scissors, or trying to do another household chore before some self-imposed deadline while exhausted from my latest migraine, or berating myself for all the things I should have got done at work if I was more efficient at helping students and leaving time for paperwork, then I hear a little voice cry, 'mercy, mercy, mercy.' It's like when we were young and would get Indian burns (before political correctness) or have thumb wars until someone begged mercy. It reminds me I'm only human; I don't need to do it all; the world's not going to end if I don't… and all those other mantras I've tried over the years.

I've also come to see my migraines as a cry for mercy from my over-firing brain. The Elimination Diet (and subsequent dietary limitations) are ways of minimising the brain's stress. Taking a nap or meditating are nurturing the brain when it starts to beg for mercy.

I don't know if this mercy mantra will last any better than the others, but hopefully like the others it will serve its purpose for a time. I will remind myself to be more merciful toward myself, remembering what I can and can't do, and that might spill over into being less stressed and judgemental about others as well.

* This idea of mercy, little seen in today's world, comes from a friend, Judy, who is writing a book about it.

'I know not all the migraines that may be coming, but be it what it will, I'll go to it laughing.' – Moby Dick by Herman Melville

We have entered the season of decisions: which Christmas party to go to during the week; how much, if any, alcohol to drink; which foods to indulge in because "it's the holidays"; whether to travel or have people over. These and countless other decisions will affect those of us who suffer from migraine for the next month or so.

My first dilemma came to a head last night. I had two nights of school end-of-year student performances on. I have been working at this college for less than a year so I have no previous experience of this school community's ways of celebrating; I had really wanted to go to both. Because I had been feeling good for several weeks, I thought that I would be able to. I went to the first night – student short films being screened. It was excellent, but it meant a late night with no proper dinner. I learned my lesson. I made time to go home for dinner before the second night's ceremony started. That's when the headache, lethargy and self-doubt set in. I didn't make it back out; I was in bed and asleep by about 9pm.

I feel disappointed that I didn't get to see some particular students' music performances. I also feel relieved that I've had the reminder, in the form of a not-too-severe migraine, that I can't do it all. That is part of the reason I'm writing this. I am very good at forgetting, shoving aside the memories of times I didn't cope, the next time a series of back-to-back opportunities arise. The lesson I'm taking from this week is: when in doubt go to the first event. The films I saw were excellent (not that the music on the second night wouldn't have been) and you don't know what will happen by the second night. Also, this is a reminder that as important as it is to be there for the students (or spouse, kids, parents, colleagues etc.), I have to take care myself too.