Welcome back, lovely humans.
If you read Part 1, you already know that the year after my back surgery felt like someone pressed the “life shuffle” button and forgot to turn it off again.
But nothing could have prepared me for what came next.

Because in January 2025, just when everything was finally “supposed to be fine,” my life decided to say:

“Plot twist.”

---

⚡ The First Seizures

The first time it happened, I didn’t understand what was going on.
I wasn’t stressed, running, panicking, or doing anything dramatic.
I simply… existed.
And suddenly my body decided to shut down like a laptop overheating during a Zoom call.

I was confused.
My husband was terrified.
And Google was absolutely useless (zero stars, do not recommend).

So we went searching for help.

---

🧠 The Doctor Marathon Begins

I looked for a neurologist, and I was lucky — very lucky — to find one who truly cared.
From the moment I entered her office, I could tell she would actually listen.
And believe me, in the world of unpredictable diagnoses, that is pure gold.

But even with her help, the next months became a medical rollercoaster:

• dozens of appointments
• specialists with wildly different opinions
• tests, tests, and more tests
• emotional exhaustion
• physical exhaustion
• moments of hope
• moments of “what is happening to me?”

And of course, the classic:
a few doctors who should NOT have chosen their profession.

---

🥴 The “It’s All in Your Head” Episode

Let’s talk about one special doctor — the one who made me feel like I wandered into the wrong movie.

He didn’t know what was causing my seizures.
Fair — many don’t.
But instead of admitting uncertainty, he kindly suggested:

“You probably belong in a psychiatric ward.”

Oh yes.
Not “let’s run more tests,”
not “let’s explore your symptoms,”
not even “I’ll refer you to a colleague.”

Just:
“You’re likely imagining it.”

And to top it off, he informed me that the chance that I had epilepsy was “one in a million.”

Thank you, sir.
I always wanted to feel special — but not like THAT.

---

🧪 EEG: Finally, an Answer… kind of

My neurologist ordered an EEG — the test that looks at electrical activity in the brain.

And guess what?

Epilepsy was confirmed.

Yep.
I was “one in a million” after all.

I should have won a prize.
Maybe a chocolate.
Or at least a sticker.

But even after getting the diagnosis and starting medication, something strange happened:

The seizures continued.

Which meant…

💥 Epilepsy was real
💥 But it wasn’t the whole story

My doctor suspected a combined diagnosis.

So she referred me to a psychiatrist.

---

💛 The Psychiatrist Who Actually Helped

And again — I was lucky.
I found a psychiatrist who understood, listened, and supported me instead of treating me like a malfunctioning computer.

She explained that sometimes the nervous system reacts to emotional trauma in ways that mimic seizures.

So she prescribed antidepressants.

And yet… the seizures continued.
Because sometimes medication needs weeks, even months, to work properly.
And sometimes it takes multiple adjustments to get the dosage right.

Let me tell you:
The dose‑finding phase is not for the weak.

I went through:

• dizziness
• sweating
• emotional ups & downs
• appetite changes
• crying for no reason
• wanting to sleep forever
• NOT wanting to sleep ever

Think of it like trying to find the perfect tension in crochet.
Except instead of yarn, it’s your nervous system.
And instead of frogging mistakes, you cry on your couch.

---

🧠 And Then Came the PNES Diagnosis

My psychiatrist recommended I also talk to a psychotherapist.
Together, over weeks, we started digging into my life.

We looked at:

• past stress
• childhood
• toxic workplaces
• my surgery
• moving
• marriage
• new cat
• big life changes
• the pressure to be independent
• the fear of losing control

Slowly, we found something important:

⭐ The root cause wasn’t my old job.

I had already processed that.

⭐ The real trauma was my surgery and everything around it.

Not the scar.
Not the screws.
But the emotional impact of:

• depending on others
• losing independence
• facing fear
• dealing with pain
• unexpected life changes
• not having time to process anything

My brain never got the chance to rest.
So it kept ringing the alarm — in the form of seizures.

This was the beginning of understanding my PNES — psychogenic non‑epileptic seizures.

A condition where the brain says:
“I can’t handle this anymore,”
and the body reacts in a very dramatic way.

---

🌼 Before Continuing: A Quick Happycapy PNES Explanation

This is where I want to pause the story for a moment.

Because before we go deeper into the emotional and social impact of PNES in Part 3, it’s really important you understand what PNES actually is — in a simple, human, Happycapy-friendly way.

Once you know what PNES means medically and emotionally, the next part of the story will make much more sense.

---

✨ Coming Next: Part 3 — The Mental Side No One Talks About

In Part 3, we’ll dive into:

• the stigma
• the invisible disability aspect
• the social impact
• how friends reacted
• how your husband tried to cope
• what your parents felt
• the emotional aftermath
• the cultural taboo around mental illness
• the isolation
• the silent suffering many people never see