My Healing Story – Part 3
For nearly three years, my life was defined by dizziness, fear, and a body I could no longer trust. First came cardiac sarcoidosis, a shocking diagnosis that changed everything overnight. And just when that had finally gone into remission, PPPD (Persistent Postural-Perceptual Dizziness) arrived to keep me trapped in a strange, rocking reality.
I often wondered if I would ever feel “normal” again.
But slowly — almost so quietly that I hardly noticed at first — something began to shift. Healing didn’t arrive in a dramatic moment. There was no overnight miracle. It came in small steps, a little more steadiness, even just a few seconds of calm while sipping my morning tea. Looking back, I see this period as the beginning of my healing, the first light breaking through after years of darkness.
Looking back, I realize that my little “islands of comfort” — a quiet cup of tea, gentle movement on the yoga mat, or caring for Spence the English bulldod I sitted— were more than just survival. They were seeds of healing. They reminded me that safety, joy, and presence were still possible, even in the middle of the storm. Those small moments eventually grew into bigger shifts.
The First Signs of Light
It started with tiny improvements. One day, my body felt just a little less heavy. Another time, I noticed I could walk across the room without the same overwhelming sense of imbalance. I learnt for example that deliberately moving and walking slowly could calm my body and get my out of the fight or flight loop. The panic that had been constant softened ever so slightly.
They were fragile changes, easy to miss. But they gave me hope. And after living so long in fight-or-flight, even the smallest flicker of hope felt monumental.
What Made the Difference
Several things came together in this period, and I believe each of them played a role.
With PPPD, this meant gently retraining my nervous system — showing my body that I was safe, even when it didn’t feel that way. I discovered the Rock Steady Programme from Australia. It taught me about neuroplasticity, how the brain can rewire itself, and how mindfulness and nervous system regulation could become powerful tools. It wasn’t easy, and it took patience, but it gave me something invaluable: a sense of agency.
For the autoimmune condition, cardiac sarcoidosis, it was a combination of lifestyle changes, anti-inflammatory living, and anthroposophic support that helped my body regain balance. And of course, having the right medical team was a critical piece of the puzzle.
This part of my journey is deeply personal, and it’s also layered. My PPPD healing had its own path, and my autoimmune healing followed another. Both were connected, and both took patience, courage, and a lot of trial and error.
I won’t go into all the details here — that deserves its own posts — but these were the seeds of change that began to take root.
There were setbacks, of course. Days when I thought I was back at square one. But over time, the moments of calm grew longer, and the storms less frequent. I found myself smiling more, laughing again, walking a little further, breathing a little deeper.
Healing Wasn’t Perfect
I want to be honest: this shift didn’t mean I was suddenly well. Far from it. Progress came slowly, sometimes two steps forward, one step back. There were relapses, discouragement, and moments where it felt like nothing was moving at all.
But what changed during this time was me. My inner resilience grew. I started to see myself not just as someone who was sick, but as someone who was healing. That mindset shift — from despair to hope, from powerlessness to participation — was perhaps the most important change of all.
Looking Ahead
✨ I’ll share more about the specific practices, tools, and resources that supported me on my healing journey in upcoming posts (and on my Resources page that I’m building).
For now, what I want to share is this: healing is possible, even when it feels endlessly out of reach. My journey was long, but once the shift happened, I realized that I wasn’t stuck forever.
And that changed everything.
