I have struggled with conversion disorder since I was 16 years old, and I'm 27 now. My first big bout with it happened my junior year of high school. I had starred in the school musical and then landed the lead in the school play right after the musical was over. Finals were coming up, I was trying to be a perfect student and a perfect Mormon, and my body just said, "Nope! I will not let you keep up this pace." For two weeks, an overwhelming exhaustion overcame me. I could hardly get out of bed. Taking a shower wiped me out. Sometimes I'd be walking into my bedroom and suddenly collapse onto the floor. I didn't know what it was - no one could find any physical reason for it. I was scared. But then it went away, and I just went on with my life. No resolution - I just tried to forget about it.
I would sometimes go months without having any health problems, but in college I had the worst time with sudden collapses. They only ever happened when I was at home by myself. I could not for the life of me understand it. I experienced guilt about it, as if I were faking, but if I were just trying to get attention, why would it only happen when I was alone? If I were faking, I would do it where people could see me and feel sorry for me, right? So what was the deal? I'd just be walking from the kitchen to the computer, and bam, I'd be sprawled out on the floor. After a few minutes, I would wiggle my fingers and toes, then very slowly get up and continue my day. It sucked, because I had no idea what the hell was going on with me. Doctors ran all sorts of tests on my brain, my heart, you name it. Everything showed up normal. I was so frustrated.
I don't remember when I started waking up unable to move my legs, but it has happened countless times over the years. In fact, it happened today. I wasn't actually diagnosed with conversion disorder until 2010. I had never even heard the term before then. I was serving in the Peace Corps at the time, and the emotional stress I was under at my site led to my legs stopping working properly. I often woke up unable to move my legs, and sometimes even my arms. If it got really hot in my apartment while I was sleeping, the odds of my having trouble in the morning seemed to increase. One day, I had to be carried out of my apartment by a neighbor and taken to a hospital in the nation's capital. There, a doctor who had been trained in Western medicine told me I had conversion disorder. I was relieved to finally be able to name the mysterious symptoms I had had for so long, yet I have never been able to find sufficient information about this disorder to make me feel as if I understand it. I have never talked to anyone whose conversion disorder manifests itself the same way mine does. In fact, I have never spoken face-to-face with anyone who has conversion disorder at all.
This disorder made me quit graduate school after my legs seized up during class one day, freaking me out terribly because it had NEVER happened in public. I had been sent home from the Peace Corps early because of my conversion disorder, and I also have quit two jobs because the symptoms became bad enough to where I didn't feel I could both keep the job and be relieved of my symptoms. The effect of this illness, this condition, this whatever-you-call-it, has caused me deep pain and lonely suffering. I put on a brave face for everyone else, cracking jokes whenever I need someone to come help me stand up. I try to put them at ease and relieve them of worrying about how to comfort me. I act like it's not a big deal, but it is. How can I feel confident about marrying, bearing children, raising children, having a successful career, traveling, or pushing myself to excel; when I know that if I get too stressed out, my legs will punish me for it? I am no longer Mormon, but the god I believed in as a devout Mormon was a harsh one, and I felt as if he were punishing me. I hope there is a kinder god, one who will heal me of this one day. Until then, I need to meet other people with this disorder. I need to see that I am not the only one whose life has been broken apart and glued back together multiple times because of conversion disorder. I hate this disorder, and I see that I will not be cured of it anytime soon. And I am angry.