When the storm clears: Healing after the crisis no one saw coming

I’ve been in survival mode for so long that I forgot what it felt like to just be. To breathe without panic. To cry without consequence. To feel without falling apart.

But over the past couple of months, life gave me no choice but to feel everything. And wow, it’s been brutal.

Let’s rewind a bit.

In May, I made one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make: I closed my business, The Nook. It was my pride and joy, a space I poured my heart into that served my community. But my body was waving red flags I couldn’t ignore anymore. Running a physical business just wasn’t compatible with a nervous system held together by duct tape and sheer willpower.

May 12 was the last day we were open. I smiled, hugged customers, took photos — and then I went home and just felt kind of numb.

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That emotional turbulence of feeling less than, a prisoner in my own body, and having to close something I worked so hard for stirred up something deeper — something I wasn’t quite ready for.

Over Memorial Day weekend, the ghosts of my past came back loud. The kind of loud that shows up in flashbacks, night terrors, and insomnia. I was reliving moments from my deployment to Iraq that I’d buried so deep, I didn’t even realize the shovel was still in my hand. It was the first time in over a decade that my post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms roared to life in such a vivid, terrifying way.

I was avoiding sleep because I didn’t want to see the ghosts of patients lost. I spent days where all I seemed to do was cry. The kind of ugly, snotty, soul-emptying cry that leaves you puffy-eyed and emotionally hungover for days. But here’s the thing:

I didn’t have a myasthenic crisis.

For the first time in years, I could sob without it triggering respiratory distress. That’s wild, right? My myasthenia gravis is being managed well enough that I could finally start feeling things again. All the things. Grief. Sadness. Rage. Relief. Emotions I hadn’t let myself truly feel because the risk was too high. And once the door cracked open, they came flooding in.

My mind and body were in a tug-of-war. And just when I thought I was starting to get my footing, my body reminded me that healing is not a straight line.

I had a seizure.

After seven and a half years of being seizure-free, my brain short-circuited on me in early June. Talk about a gut punch. It was a reminder that even though some parts of me are healing, others are still fighting for balance. It’s humbling. It’s infuriating. And it’s scary.

But I’m still walking. Literally.

On June 1, I made a commitment to myself: I would start walking the length of our driveway again. It’s a small stretch of gravel, just 0.2 miles to do the whole loop, but to me it feels like reclaiming a piece of my independence. Each step is a little shaky (despite using my rollator), a little stubborn, and a whole lot symbolic.

I’m not the same person I was just a few months ago. I’ve felt sadness, depression, anxiety, frustration, grief, acceptance, hope, and excitement. All of it. Often in the same day. Sometimes in the same hour.

But I also know this: I’m healing.

Not just in the “my medication is working” kind of way, but in the “my soul is learning how to feel safe again” kind of way. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why all this is bubbling up now. Because I can handle it.

So if the universe is listening, I’d like to formally request that the next two months come with more laughter, fewer medical plot twists, and maybe a few good hair days. My husband would also appreciate it if I skipped the impulse to bring home any surprise animals — especially the cute kittens.

Until then, I’ll keep whispering. Keep walking. Keep showing up.

Because this roar? It’s still in here. Just quieter right now.

Note: Myasthenia Gravis News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Myasthenia Gravis News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to myasthenia gravis.