13/03/2026
Three years ago I was diagnosed with Functional Neurological Disorder (FND).
At first I didn’t want to believe the diagnosis. After a lifetime of living in survival mode — from childhood through my teenage years and into adulthood — I didn’t realise how long my nervous system had been living in constant fight or flight.
Then everything changed.
The past three years have been a journey of rebuilding my life and my nervous system.
Only a few close friends truly saw what I went through each day — the tears, my body collapsing, struggling to walk straight, the pain just getting out of a car. Learning how to walk again each day, reprogramming my brain to reconnect with my body.
There were moments where I would stand in conversation and suddenly stop… lifting my eyes up as if asking my brain, “what’s the word?” while my speech simply wouldn’t come. My best friend would look at me and gently finish my sentence — as if we were speaking telepathically.
Other times my brain would say things and seconds later I couldn’t remember what I had just said. I could sit watching TV knowing I was watching it… but my brain would feel completely blank, like nothing was processing.
Simple things like daylight, noise, or being around too many people could trigger my nervous system.
One story I will never forget was being asked to leave Dolphins Leagues Club.
A friend and I had gone out to catch up with a few friends.
I hadn’t been drinking — in fact I was the most sober person in the group.
Yet suddenly I was being escorted out.
My friends were shocked. They were telling security, “We’re the ones who have been drinking, not her.”
I tried to explain that I had a neurological disorder and that sometimes I struggle to walk properly — that this is simply how my body moves now.
But they didn’t understand.
I was taken outside and told to get a taxi. I said I would just walk home.
After the humiliation and confusion of what had just happened, each step home became harder. My body was shutting down.
By the time I reached home I had nothing left. My body collapsed from exhaustion.
I was okay… I just lay there until my friend came and helped me to bed.
Many days I feel exhausted just getting through the day, trying to live what others would call a normal life. But normal looks different for me now.
Normal means staying calm, being around the right people, and letting go of those who affect my nervous system. Sometimes you simply have to walk away, because the smallest things can push the body backwards for miles.
I even sold my house to simplify my life so I could focus on rebuilding again — creating a life where my nervous system could heal.
So each day I rebuild my brain, my speech, and my nervous system.
And I am still here… still rebuilding… one step at a time.
Healing is not about returning to who I was… it’s about rebuilding who I am becoming.
Because what you see on the outside of someone’s life is not always the reality of what they are going through.
Sandra
Goddess Love Buderim
www.goddesslove.com.au
