How I Almost Let the Western Medical System Kill Me—And How I Found Real Healing
Depression, anxiety, ADHD, PTSD… you name it, I was diagnosed with it.
From an early age, I was told my brain was broken, that I had a chemical imbalance, that I would need medication to function like a "normal" person.
So, I did what they told me. I took the pills. I went to therapy. I followed the steps they laid out for me.
And for a while, it worked—until it didn’t.
The Endless Cycle of Medication
The routine became predictable:
Start a new medication.
Feel okay for a while.
Symptoms creep back in.
Increase the dosage.
Still not enough.
Switch to a different medication.
Repeat. Over and over again.
For over a decade, I was stuck in this cycle. Every year, I crashed—at least once. I would find myself back at square one, barely holding on, desperately seeking relief.
Until my body gave out.
The Breaking Point
One day, my central nervous system just… quit. It had been pushed too far for too long, and it finally crumbled under the weight of it all.
The pain wasn’t physical, but it was real. It consumed me from the inside out.
I did everything I was supposed to do. I went to a specialized therapist. I saw a psychologist to confirm my diagnosis. I cycled through more medications.
The side effects wrecked me in ways I never expected—nausea, brain fog, extreme fatigue, feeling like a zombie.
And then came the psychiatrist.
The Moment I Realized I Was Just a Number
I waited eight months to see a psychiatrist. Eight. Long. Months.
If you’ve ever struggled with mental health, you know how long a single day can feel when you’re barely surviving. Now imagine waiting 240 of them for someone to maybe help you.
I walked into that office with the last bit of hope I had left. I was ready to lay it all out, ready for someone to finally hear me.
But they hadn’t even read my file.
Then they prescribed me two medications I had already been on—ones I had recently stopped because they were making me worse.
I had never felt more invisible in my life.
Why Was No One Asking WHY?
Not once in over a decade had anyone asked:
Why was I so deeply sad?
Why was I so helpless?
Why did I feel so disconnected from myself?
They weren’t treating me. They were treating my symptoms. They were slapping a band-aid on a wound that no one had even bothered to examine.
I was exhausted. Defeated. Done.
The Unexpected Shift
At rock bottom, with nowhere left to turn, I found myself on a quiet farm in the middle of BC, standing across from a woman I had just met, talking about my life.
It wasn’t a doctor’s office. There were no prescription pads, no charts, no cold, clinical detachment.
There was just presence. Someone listening in a different way, unbeknownst to me at the time, observing subtle shifts in energy. And an energetic rebirthing.
Energy healing…
I had never even considered it before. It sounded a little out there, to be honest. But at that point, what did I have to lose?
The Day I Found BodyTalk
That conversation led me to my first official BodyTalk session. I found an amazing local woman who offered a safe and welcoming space to heal.
And for the first time in my life, I felt something shift.
I wasn’t just numbing—I was actually healing.
Whatever happened in that room, in that one-hour session, I left feeling different. Lighter. Less helpless. Less hopeless.
For the first time, I wasn’t being treated like a diagnosis or a problem to solve. I was seen as a human being who had been carrying far too much for far too long.
BodyTalk didn’t try to mask my symptoms. It helped me understand them. It helped me uncover the real reasons behind my pain—the traumas, the patterns, the deep-rooted imbalances that no medication could ever touch.
It was the first thing that ever made sense to me.
And it changed everything.
Where I Am Now
I’m no longer a prisoner of my diagnoses.
I no longer believe I’m "broken."
I no longer hand my power over to a system that never truly saw me.
Instead, I took accountability for my own healing. I learned to listen to my body. I stopped numbing and started feeling.
And now, I’m here—ready to help others break free, too.
If you’ve ever felt lost in the mental health system, if you’ve ever wondered if there was another way—there is.
And I’m living proof.
This is just the beginning of my story. If it resonates with you, stay tuned for my next posts, where I’ll share more about BodyTalk, how I continue to heal—and how you can, too.
Until then, remember: You are not broken. You are not alone. And you deserve to heal.
