I’d like to preface this post by expressing my sympathy for people dealing with serious diseases or debilitating health conditions — physical or mental. Although my experience with such issues has been more surface-level compared to more severe illnesses, these past seven years have given me a taste of what it’s like to deal with uncomfortable symptoms, and have no answers as to why.
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Are you a young woman dealing with physical symptoms that decrease your quality of life? Girl, you’re in for a wild ride.
Growing up, I had a pretty easy life: a loving family, good grades, many friends, and several hobbies that kept my daily existence interesting enough to prevent severe boredom or depression. I enjoyed watching tons of anime and creating fan videos on my early 2000s box computer, drawing, writing, reading, playing the guitar, and going out with friends. And when I reached the fine age of 18, various career and volunteering opportunities came flooding in too.
My most challenging experience in life was moving back to my home country at the age of 15 in 2012, but even that situation was something I adapted to quite quickly. And in my mid-to-late-teens, I never had any problems studying, making new friends, finding romantic partners, making money, or even having fun. In fact, a lot of this is still true today, with one small change; in short, I’m just less enthusiastic to partake in the finer activities in life due to what I’m about to tell you.
Overall, life was sweet, and even when it wasn’t, it wasn’t too bitter either. That’s until I turned 19.
Somehow, somewhere, I caught a nasty infection in the summer of 2016. I began experiencing a range of uncomfortable symptoms and knew something was wrong. Unfortunately, it took medical professionals around six months to finally determine the cause of my symptoms and provide me with the appropriate treatment. But six months is a lot when dealing with aggressive foreign invaders in your body, and something went terribly wrong.
Like a good girl, I took the antibiotics I needed for the initial infection, but the symptoms never disappeared. Intense fatigue, stomachaches, low appetite, dizziness, headaches, strange allergies, intolerances, poor immune function, skin problems, and a range of other symptoms continued to sit tight in my body. And that’s when the gaslighting began.
Over the course of the last six years, I have been to countless medical professionals, trying to figure out what’s wrong and how to fix it. At first, they provided me with the standard solutions: vitamins, probiotics, and diet and lifestyle tips. Likewise, they were unwilling to perform any further tests, convinced that most of my symptoms were “in my head,” in spite of me not experiencing anything like this before that fateful summer.
Any serious tests I had done throughout these years were tests I had to research and advocate for myself: starting from specific vitamin deficiencies to more severe illnesses (that, ideally, medical professionals themselves should suggest and carry out). Doctors would tell me not to Google things but then agree with the tests I suggested, even feigning surprise regarding how the medical professionals I went to before them never tested for these things (buddy, if you didn’t figure it out, how do you expect the physician before you to?).
But one thing remained unchanging: their unwavering belief that I was either faking my symptoms, exaggerating my condition, or simply not putting in enough effort to get better (“There are people in worse situations than you who still manage to live life,” — maybe, but I’m still paying you ridiculous amounts of money to figure out what’s wrong).
The consensus that I wasn’t suffering from any serious illnesses wasn’t something that medical professionals helped me to discover; it’s something that I managed to discover myself by advocating for all appropriate testing to be done. If I’d never spoken up, I would still be doubting whether there is something dangerously wrong with me, and that’s no way to live.
Now, back to the topic of gaslighting. I was given antidepressants I didn’t need, to treat depression I didn’t have, simply because doctors either couldn’t figure out what was wrong or were looking for a quick solution. I was put on a bunch of medication for suggested neurotic disorders that didn’t reap any benefits apart from making me sleepy and unproductive. Strong headaches and a racing pulse were also some of the “normal” side effects I experienced from taking these pills that did absolutely nothing for me.
In the end, I’m in the same place where I started, just with more chaotically-functioning brain chemistry, since giving antidepressant and antianxiety medication to a person who doesn’t suffer from either is bound to have consequences. And funnily enough, I actually did end up developing symptoms of anxiety post-treatment, coming off pills that I didn’t need to take in the first place.
But all that is child’s play compared to the gaslighting I faced throughout this ordeal. What started as a simple post-infectious disorder with, most probably, physical causes turned into a peculiar attack on my character. These are just some of the things experienced physicians have told me throughout these years:
- “You’re definitely very neurotic; stressing out isn’t going to help” — I was indeed neurotic and stressed out from dealing with unknown-cause symptoms that were ruining my life;
- “Maybe it’s your body trying to tell you that you don’t want to go to university and study” — This statement was later updated to “go to work” after I graduated from university with flying colours and began working in the corporate sector;
- “This is common in overly-emotional young women, it could just be an emotional reaction” — Ma’am, I asked for specific tests;
- “It’s because you smoke; if you quit smoking, your problems will go away” — I began regularly smoking cigarettes as an, albeit unhealthy, way of coping with all the stress around two years into this whole ordeal, meaning that nicotine was definitely not the cause;
- “The infection you had cannot cause you to experience long-lasting effects” — A simple Google search will prove otherwise. A lack of appropriate aftercare can definitely cause symptoms to linger ten years after the initial cause is eliminated;
- “Stop overthinking” — Please just do your job and explain why I’m sick. I’m overthinking because I don’t feel well, and I don’t know why;
- “A good boyfriend will help you get over this” — I’ve never been an overly-picky person in my relationships and have had several “boyfriends” since 2016. Relationships and physical contact can make you feel warm inside (no pun intended), but one adult male is definitely not the answer to all of my problems;
- “Nothing is wrong with you, go and live life” — Sir, I’m already living life. Incidentally, my quality of life is currently very low because I FEEL LIKE SHIT.
Looks like a pretty long list, doesn’t it? You’d be surprised to know that this is only a tiny fraction of absolutely ridiculous things I’ve been told throughout the years. Admitting you don’t know the underlying cause is one thing, but actively gaslighting me into thinking it’s all in my head just because you’re confused is another.
Let’s shift our attention to the mental health aspect of such an ordeal for one second. As I mentioned in my preface, I have a lot of sympathy for people dealing with more severe conditions. If my mental health is not at its peak, I can only imagine what they’re going through. However, that’s not to say that I also haven’t gone through my own struggles throughout this experience.
Constant physical discomfort will take a toll on your mind sooner or later. It’s also important to consider that this situation has been taking place during ages 19–25, which are incredibly active in terms of education, work, social life, and intimate relationships. I didn’t deny myself the young adult experience because of these issues. Still, I certainly had a harder time dealing with deadlines and exams at university, problems at work, conflicts with friends, and annoying boyfriends getting on my last nerve when I just needed some time to breathe and recover (Vitamin D — not all it’s cut out to be). Constant stress will undoubtedly result in some harmful coping mechanisms; for me, in particular, a toxic love affair with nicotine, caffeine, and occasionally alcohol.
All of that being said, dear reader, you may be wondering where I am now. Physically, I’m pretty much in the same place as I was back in 2017, right after I got the initial infection treated. Some symptoms have lessened in intensity, while others have gotten more intense (cut to me sleeping for an Ungodly number of hours because I’m so tired). Mentally, however, it is an entirely different story.
Yes, I’m exhausted. Yes, I’m unhappy a lot of the time. But this situation is now a matter of principle for me. I’ll have one last rodeo in the medical sphere with a very experienced General Practitioner next month. His name is George, an older gentleman with an overwhelmingly long and promising list of qualifications and skills (I already wrote his name in my notebook with a heart next to it). If all goes to plan, he’ll be able to get a vague idea of the underlying cause. But if that doesn’t work out, I’ll do a deep dive into natural medicine and spirituality.
I’ve already spoken to a few natural medicine practitioners who clearly let me know that they don’t need a concrete diagnosis to get me out of this situation. This has helped me relax in terms of finding answers because even if I don’t — there’s still a way out.
I’m more than certain that I’ll be fine, and all of this is soon coming to an end since several problems have already been ruled out (thanks to my intense Googling). No matter how tired or unhappy I am, I still believe in manifesting and speaking into existence the life I think I deserve, and everything will work out for me sooner or later. And if you find this part offensive, you probably don’t feel the same way about yourself or even believe that good things are possible for you. In that case, I suggest you change how you look at the world.
However, I’d be lying if I said this situation hadn’t knocked my spirit at least a little. And maybe my likeability in certain social aspects of life. But hey, I was never one to really care about people’s opinions of me anyway. Especially when there are much more significant milestones to reach, the first and most important one being — to feel good again.
To anyone going through a similar situation, never stop searching for answers. And if you do stop, let it be because someone told you that they could fix the situation regardless of whether you have a diagnosis or not, and not because you gave up on yourself.
