🌿 Part 3 — The Mental Side No One Talks About

Welcome back, lovely humans.
If you’ve followed Part 1 and Part 2, you already know things were… let’s say spicy.
Back surgery, unexpected seizures, misdiagnosis, emotional rollercoasters — oh, and of course, the medication settings that felt like trying to crochet with cooked spaghetti.

But Part 3 is different.
Part 3 is the part people don’t warn you about.
The part no doctor explains.
The part no one prepares you for:

🌑 the emotional, social, invisible side of living with PNES.

Let’s dive in.

🧠 Trying to Find the Root Cause (aka: emotional detective work)

When my psychiatrist suggested psychotherapy, I didn’t know what to expect.
I thought we’d maybe talk about stress, a few past experiences, maybe cry a little, and boom — answers.

Reality:
It took weeks.
Actual emotional archaeology.

We dug through:

my toxic old job
years of independence
moving
marriage
adopting Nina
returning to work
the surgery
the pain
the fear
the pressure
the emotions I never processed

Slowly, we narrowed it down.

✨ The trauma wasn’t the job.

That chapter was closed.

✨ The trauma was the pre‑ and post‑surgery period.

The fear.
The loss of independence.
The unpredictable pain.
The rapid life changes.
The expectation to “be fine now.”

My brain never got the chance to rest.
And eventually, it broke down — loudly.

🛑 When Your Independence Disappears Overnight

Before the surgery, I was independent.
Fiercely independent.
The kind of girl who fixed things herself, lived alone, built her career, and wasn’t afraid of hard work.

Then suddenly, I couldn’t:

put on socks
bend
get dressed
manage alone
do “simple” everyday things

And when you go from: “I can do anything”
to
“I need help with everything,”
the mental shock is massive.

It shakes your identity.
It shakes your confidence.
It shakes your sense of safety.

This was trauma — disguised as recovery.

💔 The Invisible Side: What People Don’t See

One of the hardest lessons I learned:

💛 Not every disability is visible.

I used to judge too.
Seeing people with disability cards in fancy cars and thinking:
“Why do they have it?”

Life humbled me very quickly.

I now have a disability card myself —
and I also have a perfectly normal-looking life from the outside.

But people don’t see:

the seizures that cancel plans
the evenings I was dressed and ready for a walk, and suddenly collapsed
the days we couldn’t visit family because I had multiple seizures
the moments I cried from fear, exhaustion, or frustration
the emotional swings caused by medication
the days I couldn’t read a page or watch a movie
the exhaustion that hits out of nowhere

Behind closed doors… it’s a different world.

👥 How It Affects People Around You

PNES doesn’t only impact the person who has it.
It impacts everyone close to them.

💛 My husband

He saw me having seizures almost daily.
He tried to help.
He tried to understand.
He tried to support me.

But the helplessness broke him too.
It even affected his work performance — but he kept this to himself for months because he didn’t want me to worry.

💛 My parents

Their hearts broke every time they saw me having a seizure.
And all they could do was watch.
No parent wants to see their child suffer without being able to help.

💛 Friends

Some stopped visiting.
Not because they didn’t care.
But because they didn’t know how to act.
They were scared of seeing a seizure.
Or scared of doing something wrong.
Or scared of saying the wrong thing.

💛 A few stayed

The brave ones.
The ones who were not afraid to sit next to me, even when a seizure happened.
Those few are worth more than gold.

🧩 The Emotional Rollercoaster No One Prepared Me For

Medication changes came with:

sudden crying
sudden numbness
dizziness
appetite gone
appetite back
emotional mood swings
sweating
insomnia
“I just want to sleep until this is over” days

And the biggest struggle:

🖤 Blaming myself

I kept asking:

Why me?
Did I do something wrong?
Could I have prevented this?
Am I weak?
Am I broken?

But the truth is: You can’t change the past.
Trauma doesn’t go away just because we ignore it.
And PNES is not a weakness — it’s a response to overwhelming emotional overload.

📚 When Even Your Brain Says “Nope”

Before PNES, I was a passionate reader.
After PNES, my brain refused to cooperate.

I would:

read the same sentence 5 times
forget what I just read
start a movie and lose the plot instantly
lose concentration after a few minutes

The only thing I could follow were documentaries —
because they were straight facts and required zero emotional processing.

Everything else felt impossible.

💛 Why This Matters

Understanding the emotional and social side of PNES is just as important as understanding the medical side.

People need to know:

it’s real
it’s heavy
it’s invisible
it’s misunderstood
it affects the whole family
and it needs compassion

This is why I write.
Not for pity — but for awareness, connection, and support.

✨ Coming Next: Part 4 — Choosing to Fight Back

Part 4 is where the light returns.
It’s the part where crochet re-enters my life —
where counting stitches becomes medicine,
where creativity becomes therapy,
and where Happycapy is born.

It’s a story of hope, softness, yarn, and healing.
A story of rebuilding.
A story of choosing to continue.

I can’t wait to share it with you. 💛