My Story
Please be gentle with yourself as you read this story.
Reading a first-person account of Long COVID can be emotional, especially if you or someone you know is still suffering. I’m sharing my story so you can see not only how ill I was, but also how much better I am now. While this is a story of struggle, it is also one of truth and hope.
Illness
In January 2023, I caught COVID-19 for the first time. At first, I wasn’t too worried—I thought I knew what to expect. So many people I knew had recovered quickly, so I assumed I’d be sick for a few days, maybe a couple of weeks at most, and then life would go back to normal. I even added an extra streaming service to my lineup, ready to spend my recovery watching comedy shows.
I fully expected to be back on my cargo bike, taking my kid to school. Back at work. Back to swimming lengths on my lunch breaks, taking tennis lessons in the evenings, and spending quality time with friends and family on the weekends.
Instead, I only got sicker. One week passed, then two, then three—and I was still in bed. My family doctor didn’t know how to help. At first, we suspected a sinus infection, but multiple rounds of antibiotics did nothing. By the fourth week, I was referred to an internal medicine specialist. My dad took the day off work to drive me to the appointment, and when I entered the clinic room, I immediately laid down on the examination table. When the doctor walked in, she asked if I could sit up. I told her I didn’t think I could. That was a hard reality to face.
I couldn’t have my son at home with me during those first weeks. He was staying with his dad, so I knew he was in great hands—but I missed him so much. And I had no idea when I’d get better.
The fatigue was crushing. I was dizzy and unsteady on my feet. I had severe headaches and relentless feverishness every afternoon and evening. I couldn’t sleep without medication. And already, my mental health was beginning to deteriorate.
Several weeks later, I woke up very early one morning with my heart pounding and racing like never before. I had no idea what was happening. Panic set in—which, of course, only made things worse. I tried to ride it out, but by the time I got a text from my mom later that morning, I had to admit that things had taken a serious turn.
My parents rushed over, scraped me off the floor by the front door, and took me to the emergency room. I spent most of the day waiting on the ER floor to see a doctor. It was, without a doubt, the worst day of my life so far. Eventually, they sedated me with migraine medications, sent me for a CT scan of my brain, told me nothing was wrong, and sent me home.
A couple of days later, I started having trouble swallowing food. My fatigue was so severe that even the muscles in my throat struggled to engage. That’s when I finally admitted to myself that I couldn’t take care of myself anymore—I had to move in with my sister and her family.
The extreme anxiety and panic I was experiencing were terrifying. Fear and worry consumed me. I kept trying to distract myself by watching TV, thinking I just needed to get through it, but that wasn’t working. In fact, looking at a screen only made me feel worse. I struggled to read—moving my eyes back and forth across the page made me dizzy. Even simple conversations were exhausting. It took so much energy just to speak. I couldn’t send emails or texts, and phone calls were completely out of the question. Any cognitive effort felt impossible and only made my symptoms worse (as if that was even possible!!!).
I felt like my body was failing me… betraying me… or maybe I was the one betraying my body.
This went on for six months before I finally asked my doctor for help with my mental health. I had been sinking into some very dark places, and deep down, I knew I deserved better. At the time, it felt like an act of desperation—but looking back, I see it as my first act of self-compassion.
When I was sent to my government’s Long COVID clinic, I was told—once again—that there was no known cause, no treatment, and no cure. I was told I needed to learn to manage and live with my symptoms.
Now that I know better, I realize this was the most harmful message I received from any medical professional during that time. And I heard it from several of them.
Recovery
The first step I took towards my recovery was joining Suzy Bolt’s Rest, Repair, Recover program. At first, all I could do was lie in bed and listen to the gentle yoga classes and mindfulness sessions. But over time, as my nervous system began to calm, I was able to start doing small breathing exercises and gentle movements. The support from the community was incredible.
Just a few weeks in, I met my first Recovery Buddy, Gabi. She had been part of the group for three years and had once been severely ill with Long COVID. But she had recovered enough to return to her normal life and activities. She gave me something I desperately needed: support and hope for my own recovery.
Not long after, I met my second Recovery Buddy, Rain. Like with Gabi, we connected instantly. Our Long COVID journeys had been so similar that we could relate to each other in a way no one else could. We helped each other through the really tough days, celebrated even the smallest wins, and shared new insights we found online—always keeping each other grounded in hope.
One of the most valuable resources we exchanged was video interviews with experts and recovery stories from people who had healed from Long COVID, ME/CFS, and other chronic conditions. Through these videos, I discovered the late Dr. John Sarno and his groundbreaking work on chronic pain. As I read his book, The Mindbody Prescription: Healing the Body, Healing the Pain, something incredible happened: my symptoms reduced in severity by nearly 50%.
Yes, you read that right. Simply learning how my symptoms were being generated in my brain led to a significant reduction in my suffering.
This was the most powerful motivation I could have asked for.
From there, I discovered the work of the great Dr. Howard Schubiner who had trained under Dr. Sarno and taken this work even further. I watched YouTube clips, listened to podcasts, and absorbed everything he had to teach about what was happening in my brain and nervous system. I learned about neuroscience and realized that my brain was doing exactly what it was designed to do—keeping me in high alert mode to protect me. My symptoms had started during a time of crisis (a challenging COVID-19 infection), and my brain had become locked in a cycle of fear and danger signals.
The symptoms created fear, and the fear created symptoms.
I read Dr. Schubiner’s books and took his free course, Reign of Pain, offered on Coursera. If you have the capacity, I highly recommend it.
Around the same time, I also signed up for Raelan Agle’s self-paced course, Brain Retraining 101: For ME/CFS and Long Covid Recovery. This course helped me learn the “how to” of recovery. Raelan’s course provides learning, community and group sharing. This course gave me practical tools—the how of recovery. It offered education, a supportive community, and group sharing, all of which helped me stay on track.
Slowly but surely, my symptoms continued to improve. After that first major breakthrough, progress was more gradual, but I stayed committed. I kept learning, reading every book and watching every recovery video I could find. I practiced mindfulness, yoga nidra, and brain retraining while reclaiming more and more of my pre-COVID life.
I started walking more. Going into stores became easier. I was able to drive again, which meant I could do school drop-offs and pick-ups. Then, I started riding my bike again—first just for short trips, and before long, I was back to doing the school run on my cargo bike. I began socializing with friends again and could even sit in noisy coffee shops without any trouble.
Wow.
It took months, but eventually, I was ready to start a gradual return to work. And then, one day… I was back to normal life.
Today, I work full-time. I swim on my lunch breaks again. I can do anything I want, whenever I want.
I’ve learned to listen to my brain and body—to rest when I need to, to care for myself in ways I never used to. I now understand how my mind and body work together to keep me well. I maintain my healthy habits, but most importantly, I feel joy in life every day.