Until a few days ago, I was certain I wouldn’t return to college this semester. Between my crippling depression, incapacitating executive function and concentration issues, and my physical weakness from POTS, living independently in less than two months while taking senior-level classes seemed like an impossibility.
With another year of college behind me, I recently packed up my apartment and headed home. Although I was unbelievably busy this semester and definitely overworked at times, I had a great junior year. I’ve truly put down roots in the college town where I spend the school year now, so it was with mixed emotions that I pulled into my parents’ driveway for the summer.
When I think about what a PANS flare looks like, rage episodes, wild involuntary movements, crippling OCD, short-term memory loss, and panic attacks are what normally come to my mind.
Yesterday, I humiliated myself in front of the whole class.
Most days now, I feel that I have my mind back—that I can actually think without anxiety and malfunctioning cognitive processes clouding my every thought. But every once in a while, I do something really strange or stupid, and I find myself truly questioning my recovery all over again.
I haven’t had time to write a longer post for a few weeks, but I just wanted to assure you that I haven’t disappeared.
I’ve been away, not because I’m ill, but because I’m well. In fact, I’d say I’m the best I’ve been in the last nine years.
Last Friday, I would’ve said I was 100% symptom-free. I went the whole day with no tics or OCD symptoms or depression, and most astonishing of all, I could pay attention in class. My mind was the clearest it’d been in years.
But just as I’d put my life back together after the last flare, it suddenly fell apart.
It’s 8 AM on a Saturday, and rather than sleeping in as you might expect for a college student, I’m lacing up my running shoes and getting ready to bolt across town.
However, this weekend, when I opened my blinds, I almost pulled the covers back over me; I saw it was raining with no sign of stopping.
I’d never run in the rain before, and the mere idea of it caused the shivers. I had so much homework, and the only time I had to spare was in the morning. But I love running so much. How could I let a little bad weather keep me from it?
One of the hardest things about PANDAS is that you never know what it’s going to do next. Just as you’ve finally gotten your life back, it can strike again. Or just as you’re sure the fight is hopeless, things might turn a corner. Sometimes, it seems like there’s no rhyme or reason to its course.
Indeed, it wasn’t too long ago that my doctor said I was in remission. My family and I were stunned at the improvements I was making after my tonsillectomy. But this week, the unthinkable has happened: I am, once again, having a flare.
It’s 3 AM on a Saturday night, and I’m not even close to being ready to sleep. Am I out late partying like some other college students? No, I’m unwillingly sitting on the couch doing nothing and putting off going to bed for no good reason, after trying and failing to get any homework done all day long.
It was the first full week of class, and just like Freshman year, I had gotten sick. My body ached. My head pounded. I felt exhausted.
When you have PANS, getting sick is often far worse than just feeling tired and congested—in the past, a simple virus could send me into a full-blown flare of severe OCD, panic attacks, involuntary movements, and even hallucinations. So naturally, when my nose started running last week, all I could think about was how much I didn’t want to flare. I couldn’t have cared less about the cold symptoms themselves.
