Identity Crisis: Finding Your Soul in the Middle of a Breakdown.
There is a specific kind of silence that happens when your life is stripped down to its studs.
In the thick of my FND (Functional Neurological Disorder) journey, my world became very small. Because of the heavy anti-seizure meds, I couldn't see well enough to read a book. Because of the initial epilepsy diagnosis, I couldn't drive. I lived further out than all my friends, and every time one of them drove all the way out to ferry me around, I felt a crushing weight of guilt.
I felt lost. But the truth is, I had been lost long before the first seizure hit.
The Shell in the Mirror
Before the seizures started, I was already working on identity in therapy. Like so many moms, I had reached that point where I felt like a hollow shell. I was performing for everyone else, putting myself on the back burner so often that I eventually looked in the mirror and asked, “Holy smokes, who is this woman? Why is she never happy?”
My therapist challenged me with simple tasks: Wear your hair differently for a few days. Wear a color you’d normally avoid. Just see how it feels. But when the seizures started, my appearance was the last thing on my mind. What became heavy was the realization that I didn't have hobbies. I didn't have opinions. I didn't even know what I was curious about. I had seen what my families spiritual belief system my whole life, but none of it felt right for me.
I was a blank slate, but I was terrified of the ink.
The Introvert with a Microphone
That’s when the "crazy" idea for a podcast was born. If you knew me then—an introverted ball of anxiety with no public opinions—a podcast was the last thing you’d expect. “What the hell would I even talk about?” I asked myself.
The answer turned out to be the foundation of my healing: Curiosity.
I brought in a friend I barely knew (because I don’t do anything alone!) and we decided to just... explore. We brought every "door" to the podcast—spirituality, the afterlife, intimacy, relationships—and we looked at them. We didn't have to walk through every door, but we gave ourselves permission to decide which ones were worth exploring.
Being "locked down" in my house because of PNES/NES was a forced sabbatical. It was a blessing in a very dark disguise that gave me the time to finally learn about ME.
From FND to RTT: The Turning Point
It is incredibly difficult to see the "good" in a diagnosis that takes away your ability to work, your motor skills, and your independence. I know the grief of that loss intimately.
But through that loss, I stumbled upon Rapid Transformational Therapy (RTT).
As I began to study it, a lightbulb went off so bright it nearly blinded me. I remembered how much I loved to learn. And more importantly, I started asking: “Why was this not an option offered for FND recovery?”
I discovered that RTT isn't just a tool; it’s a key. It is a totally viable path to remission for many people living with functional disorders because it addresses the root—the subconscious "why" that the body is expressing through neurological symptoms.
The Purpose in the Pain
Had I not experienced my own FND, I wouldn't have known this level of suffering existed. I wouldn't have found my life’s purpose. I wouldn't be able to stand here today as an RTT Practitioner and say to other women: "I have been where you are, and there is a way out."
For many, a chronic illness causes a further drift of self-identity that intensifies over time. You become "the sick one," the one with “the spells."
Yes, I am an FND specialist. But more than that, I am a guide for women who have lost themselves in whatever life has thrown at them. I am passionate about guiding you back to your true identity, because I’ve learned the hard way that knowing who you are is the only lasting key to happiness.
Whatever has been keeping you from the happiness you deserve within, I got you.
