Starting a business with migraine – between self-determination and exhaustion

Things have been quiet here for the past few weeks. Not because nothing's been happening – quite the opposite. I've been busy creating art and working on my freelance business. But I've also been having migraine attacks every other day. Which is why there hasn't been any time for blog posts or social media. And that's exactly what I want to talk about today: What's it like to be self-employed with a chronic pain condition?

On paper, self-employment sounds like freedom: your own projects, flexible hours, self-determination. In reality, however, it also means responsibility for everything – client acquisition, concepts, applications, accounting, visibility. When a migraine attack every two days then robs you of your concentration and disrupts your schedule, it quickly feels like a contradiction: I want to build something, but my body is constantly taking breaks.

Working for yourself whilst suffering from chronic migraine brings its own set of challenges. Image from the ‘Migraine Tarot’ series, currently in production.

I'm currently experiencing firsthand just how much internal pressure is involved in this startup process. There are these success stories: full-time job, sports on the side, family, travel, personal projects – all done with a smile. But life isn't like that for everyone. With a chronic illness, performance is never just a matter of motivation, but always also a question of energy, luck, and physical ability. What I often find difficult is how rarely people talk about how exhausting life with a chronic illness is – especially in a professional context.

One experience I encounter time and again is that illness and performance are presented separately. There are "successes (despite illness)"—and alongside them, "the daily struggle," which is kept as invisible as possible. On social media, more people are now openly discussing chronic illnesses. However, I still rarely see these stories in the context of starting a business, becoming self-employed, or posting about careers on LinkedIn. The fear of appearing "not productive enough" or of "separating" their private and professional lives seems too great. The problem is that with chronic illnesses, this separation is often impossible. One influences the other - every single day.

In the final months of the startup process, I've found myself repeatedly asking these questions: Was it the right decision to become self-employed now? Am I doing something wrong? Will I be able to manage this in the long run, or will I eventually have to return to a structured job where I try to force my illness into external constraints that don't suit me at all? At the same time, I know how unpredictable migraine attacks are and how little I can influence the course of the illness. Migraine doesn't like change, and even less so uncertainty. A new phase of life, a host of emotions (including positive ones!), new contacts – all of this is stressful for a migraine-prone brain. From a medical perspective, it's not surprising that the attacks are currently increasing. Emotionally, however, it's still incredibly difficult to bear.

When I’m in the workshop working on a stone, it’s like a meditative process. At the same time, it’s noisy and takes a toll on my migraine. I’m currently experiencing a similar sense of ambivalence in the start-up process.

At the same time, I realize how good the freedom of self-employment is for me. I can structure my day around my migraine: taking breaks when my body demands them, working when possible, and planning projects so that I can compensate for any absences. I remain active despite frequent attacks because I can decide for myself when I need to be quick – and when I don't. And because I do what I do with deep conviction.

I am building a field of work in which art plays a central role – as a medium to raise awareness about invisible pain conditions like migraine, to make stigma visible, and to explore the role art can play in destigmatization. At the same time, art helps me personally, every day.

Crocheting is an activity that helps me relax during mild to moderate migraine attacks. I often just get started – without a plan. I followed my intuition with this piece too.

When I have mild to moderate attacks, structured, regular drawing helps me distract myself from the pain and calm down. It's almost meditative: line by line, area by area. I get into a rhythm that isn't pain-free, but it embeds the pain differently. During severe attacks, I can't actively work, but even then, my mind continues to work artistically: What does this pain feel like right now? What shape, what color, what texture would this aura have? How could I later translate this feeling of being overwhelmed, of flashes of light, of wasting time into a sculpture or drawing? The pain doesn't go away this way—but it gives me a sense of agency. Instead of just being at its mercy, an idea emerges: I can make something out of it.

So, over the past few weeks, I've been both exhausted and incredibly active. I've completed three new projects – including a visualization of my 2025 migraine calendar, which depicts 2,818 hours of migraine per year. I'm working on my second stone sculpture and a series of digital drawings for a "migraine tarot." At the same time, I'm planning my exhibition in June, writing grant proposals, and building a new network in a field that's still largely uncharted territory in Germany. This, too, is part of starting a business with a chronic illness: prioritizing what's important now, what can wait, and how to allocate my energy both professionally and personally.

Large canvas with texture paste and working materials on the living room floor.

Close-up of the tape removal.

Finished artwork: 2,818

2.818 is a special piece for me. I had 2.818 hours of migraine attacks in 2025. Visualizing it using 2.818 squares of texture paste was costly, exhausting, and time-consuming. For several weeks, the canvas dominated my living room. Just as impossible to miss as a migraine attack.

Another learning process: using new tools that support me – and admitting that I need them. For example, I'm experimenting with AI to lighten my load when structuring texts, formulating concepts, and conducting research. Not because I "couldn't do it alone," but because my brain, with its migraine attacks, has very limited focus windows. It's not always easy for me to admit this to myself. Part of me wants to "prove" that I can be productive even without help. But perhaps that's precisely the crucial step: acknowledging that I'm not always as productive as I'd like to be – and that what I do is still (or perhaps even more so) valuable.

For me, starting a business with a chronic illness means right now:

• Enduring the tension between vision and exhaustion.

• Finding tools (art, AI, structures) that will support me when things get difficult.

• To make visible that illness and work are inextricably intertwined.

• And to say: This is not a "despite" but part of what my work is all about.

I don't know how my startup will develop in the coming months. But I do know that I want to work precisely at the intersection where migraine, art, and society converge – and that I hope stories like this will become more visible in the startup context.