Headache nosebleed light | | Don't Forget fun!

Hey everybody. I couldn't find anyone else mentioning this device on this forum (or pretty much anywhere else regarding screen discomfort), so I figured I'd share my experience as someone who is just learning I may be TLM sensitive.
I haven't upgraded my laptop in 7 years, so I've been living under a rock in terms of new screen technology. I've never had issues with screens before (LCD, IPS, TN, Retina), all old though, like pre 2019. I recently had the opportunity to upgrade to my dream laptop - Microsoft Surface Laptop Studio 2. Works awesome but after just a few minutes of looking at the screen, I got eye strain & headaches. Normally I can work all day on my computer no problem. After just 2 days of trying to "get used" to this SLS by working on it in very short periods, I'm just left with a migraine. It's literally unusable for me. I've tried changing settings, color depth, refresh rate, updating graphics drivers, turning off blue light... nada. And all reviews of this laptop just rave about how great the screen is.
Further research eventually led me here, to finding out about this PWM or TLM sensitivity some people have, it's the only thing that offers me any kind of answer. Looks like I'm going to have to return this laptop, and I'm soooo bummed because there's not another device like it on the market atm, and I have every specific needs (drawing, video editing, portability). I guess I'm just going to have to build a pc from scratch so I can pick my own monitor. And hopefully find a drawing tablet that doesn't destroy my eyeballs...
But honestly, I'm still left scratching my head, because notebookCheck. com says the PWM on the surface laptop studio is very high frequency, so those sensitive shouldn't be affected. Yet here I am dyin' over here. (and can confirm my eyes are fine, it's definitely the laptop causing this pain). AND, I have some old monitors that have PWM (can see the horizontal lines through a camera), yet they cause me no issue!
Now I'm afraid to get any new device - not knowing what it is exactly that bothers me... sounds like a minefield out there for sensitive folks. Not a lot of clear answers. T-T

Hi all, a friend’s life was turned upside down after she felt a popping sensation in her head. The night before, she attended a concert involving SUPER loud music, cocaine and molly. She was very active and outgoing before this incident, and now she can barely leave her house.
Personal info: 28f, 5’2, 150 lbs Non smoker non drinker for 2 months / previous smoker & drinker
Medical history: Phyllodes tumor of breast, benign & removed in June 2023
Current meds: 60 mg propronal, & 20 mg amitriptilyne, fish oil omega 3, & magnesium twice a day
Symptoms, tests, treatments in her own words: “In November of 2023 I ran myself into the ground & felt really faint one morning after a night out. I felt a pop in my head induced by stress 1 day after while I was working. A really bad headache then followed with symptoms of vertigo, nausea, panic attacks, extreme sensitivity to light, astigmatism, poor memory, speech impediments, and the inability to drive or be in public places. I quit drinking all together, cut out coffee, cleaned up my diet, limited screen time, and have made a lot of progress since… I’ve seen all types of doctors, have done multiple MRIS with & without contrast, blood work, am currently meeting with a neurologist who has had me try all types of medication. All of the tests came back clear and I’m currently taking a beta blocker to help with the panic attacks as well as a very low dose of anti depressant & both have helped a little bit imo. I also take fish oil omega 3 - & magnesium twice a day. What’s driving me insane is the pressure & buzz like feeling in my head that will not go away. It feels like my ears need to pop but it's in my crown followed by constant tinnitus. I’ve become extremely depressed by all of this and am at the point where I don’t really see any way out so am willing to try anything. At this point we're calling it vestibular migrane but I am still uncertain as to what I am dealing with.”
Does anyone have any ideas about what could be going on, or what steps she should take next?

So the other day I called out an hour before my shift, I was an opener (I know it was awful timing) but I got my period and I deal with the most debilitating, bed ridden cramps ever. I get super nauseous from them and I was throwing up at 3:30am when I woke up for work. I literally could not move from the toilet. Sorry that’s tmi. I had to call out. My manager today pulls me aside to talk about it and apparently Starbucks puts period cramps in the same category as a “headache” something you can “just take medicine” for. Like stfu you corporate idiots have NO idea what you’re even talking about. And now I have like 16 tardies marked on me because of this STUPID ASS new tardy policy. They’re all only 1-2 min late but it’s still counted as tardy?!? It’s because I turn on the ovens and lights etc before clocking in. Like theyre making it more ad more awful to work for this company!!

TLDR: I have had non spinning dizziness for 3 years, did every test, saw a world expert in dizziness at Mayo clinic, diagnosed with Panic Disorder, General Anxiety Disorder, Agoraphobia, possibly Vestibular Migraines from a neurologist, but not PPPD, and I accept it finally.
Hello everyone,
I wanted to share my story with dizziness as I have read many others on many different forums and hope that this can help others like others have helped me!
I have experienced dizziness for over three years now (28M) that is non-spinning in nature, it is an up and down feeling like you are on an elevator, on a boat, or walking on sand as some may describe it, typically while walking, standing, or slight position adjustments while sitting or laying down. It has caused anxiety, panic attacks, shakiness, heart palpitations, arm/leg numbess, neck tingling, neck pain, muscle spasms, brain fog, hearing sensitivity, headaches, fevers, and others I am probably forgetting.
I recently visited with Dr. Staab at Mayo Clinic who is one of the best in the world at looking into problems with dizziness, among many countless providers over the last three years. Dr. Staab specifically researches and treats dizziness, and recently diagnosed me with Panic Disorder, General Anxiety Disorder, Agoraphobia, but NOT Persistent postural perceptual dizziness (PPPD) as I don’t completely fit the criteria. The reason I was given was that I did not have a typical reason such as an ear infection or other PPPD pre-cursors, and that certain motion does not trigger dizziness in me like typical PPPD patients (I can play video games and watch movies with no issues). I for sure thought I had PPPD, but regardless, treatment is relatively the same with or without that diagnosis for my symptoms.
The best way it was explained to me was that my initial dizziness episode three years ago was a panic attack where the first symptom was dizziness followed by other physical symptoms, and heightened anxiety/panic over this dizziness caused my body to be overly alert/sensitive to the space/movement around me, creating a loop of constant dizziness. While my anxiety has improved tremendously and I have only experienced less than 10 (being generous with this) panic attacks my whole life, the dizziness has improved but remained, as it is described as basically a residual effect of the initial anxiety/panic attacks that my body has not yet corrected.
I also saw Dr. Beh who is a neurologist that specializes in vestibular disorders and migraines, and he further diagnosed me with Vestibular Migraines (which Dr. Staab says is a possibility but he doesn’t have enough evidence to diagnose me with it).
My current treatment includes taking Venlafaxine (going to 75mg soon) to directly treat the dizziness and help with any remaining anxiety/panic issues, receive therapy (psychoeducation and CBT) by a therapist with a PhD preferably, and vestibular rehab. Dr. Staab also said massages (light on the neck) could be helpful as dizziness can cause neck and back muscles to tighten due to the body stiffening over time to try to avoid dizziness sensations.
I was told to take Vitamin B12 (400mg) and venlafaxine in the morning. In the afternoon I take COq10 (200mg) after lunch and 200mg after dinner. Before bed, I take magnesium glycinate (500mg) and effexor. I take other supplements, but these I specifically take for migraine/dizziness related issues.
I have seen Dr. Staab, Dr. Beh, the Vestibular Psychologist Emily Kostelnik, have watched the Steady Coach on youtube, looked into the dizzy cook, and have seen multiple Neurologists, ENT’s, Cardiologists, PCP’s, Physical therapists, audiologists, gastro’s, even an allergist. I was misdiagnosed with POT’s, but otherwise every test that was done came back normal except that I have a hiatial hernia, fatty liver, low vitamin D, and a deviated septum.
I’ve had the brain scans, blood tests, heart monitoscans/ultrasounds, tilt table, ear tests, balance tests, epley maneuver, rotary chair, basically every test you can think of (some multiple times) and have tried basically every supplements/lifestyle changes you can think of as well. I have also done a lot of the above tests at Mayo Clinic in their dizziness program that I was accepted into in Minnesota.
My dizziness began at work 3 years ago when it felt like I was bouncing up and down just while standing and my body proceded to panic. I went from having this kind of episode once a month, to once every few weeks, to every day, to basically dizzy any time I stood or walked. Because of the dizziness, I stopped going to stores, didn’t shower as much as I should have, did not workout, and took off of work as it was so difficult to just walk. I currently work full time, workout, am in a relationship, and can do so much that I felt like I couldn’t do. I still have days where I need to take a break, and you won’t catch me on a boat for awhile as that triggers me GREATLY!
Two things that have for sure helped me so far, walking and time. Going for walks was a hard thing to start being dizzy, but that is something I can for sure say I’ve noticed helps without a doubt. And time; my dizziness didn’t improve overnight, it’s been three years, and i still deal with it! I’ve learned it isn’t going to hurt me and to simply learn to live with it (for now) and to push myself baby steps at a time.
Also, parasympathetic breathing has helped me tremendously as well as guided meditation to relax and practice mindfulness. I pay for an app called Downdog which has great guided programs (and yoga!) and currently get it for free for being a student.
Don’t give up, even if it feels like you are just trying to survive. Don’t let doctors write you off, advocate for yourself. If the doctor doesn’t listen or help, find new ones. Lean on your support system. Help others and share your story so there is more awareness and research for dizziness. It is one of the most difficult symptoms to diagnose. And it is just that, a SYMPTOM! You are you and not your symptoms or diagnoses!
If you have any questions, I will try my best to respond to everything no matter the question or if it is 10 years from now. There is SO much to this journey, and attempting to fit it into one post feels impossible. One thing that bothered me was people posting about their symptoms and never giving updates/responding to others, so I will try my best to do so…

The world was a boozy whirl of lights and sounds. Images, broken and fragmented, came and went. Voices, laughter, screaming. The ground pitched like the deck of a tempest-tossed ship, and he felt heavy, as though the ground were pulling him to it. C’mere, Dommy. He fell, lay on the pavement, and pushed himself up again, staggering like a drunk on his way home. His head spun, his body ached, and things seemed blurry, like half-formed images glimpsed underwater.
It was the light blue hour before dawn and Dom was…somewhere. He should have recognized the stores and street signs around him, but he didn’t. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and a sense of confusion gripped him so strongly that he was beginning to panic. Where was he? What happened?
The world spun away again and the next thing he knew, he was lying in a heap of garbage bags, used needles, and rubbish. He came awake with a jerk and sat up so fast that a bolt of pain jammed into his skull. He winced and pressed his hand to his forehead. He felt hot, clammy.
Something was seriously wrong.
Somehow he got to his feet again and started walking. The sun was up now and the streets were filled with people. They all sneered in disgust as he passed, and he wrapped his arms around his chest like a baby comforting itself. He was getting cold. His muscles were sore. Tears streamed down his face and he wanted to cry.
Going on instinct alone, Dom made his way back home and climbed the steps to his apartment. Exhaustion swept over him and he sagged against the door as he dug in his pocket for the keys. They shook in his hand and he had to focus really hard to get the key into the lock.
Inside, he collapsed onto the couch and his eyelids instantly drooped. He was so weary that he couldn’t lift his head, couldn’t form a single coherent thought. Dom felt himself starting to sink, and snapped his eyes open with a start. Something in his soul told him that if he slept, he would die.
He couldn’t help it, though. He was falling, tumbling, hands reaching up from hell to grab him. His eyes fluttered closed again and the world started to go dark, his heart slamming in fear. He tried to fight, but the pull of darkness was too strong, too alluring. Why was he fighting? Why not just…give up? Hadn’t he thought of killing himself before? Didn’t he hate his life and himself? What was there to fight for? A wife? Kids? A community that loved and respected him? Shit, affordable groceries?
No.
There was nothing.
He had nothing and was nothing.
A sense of peace blossomed from the darkness, and suddenly death didn’t seem so scary. In fact, it was warm…inviting.
It was life that was cold and hateful. Not death.
Death accepted you no matter who you were. It didn’t reject you…it didn’t ignore you. If you sought it, you would find it, and if you embraced it, it would embrace you.
With that thought in mind, Dom gave up.
And died.
***
Bruce Kenner, captain of the 5th Albany precinct, sat behind his desk on the morning of June 28 and lazily leafed through a stack of files as he sipped from a mug of coffee. A roughly built man with a dark goatee and graying blonde hair, he looked more like a small town southern sheriff than a low level public works functionary. In fact, he tended to act like it too. He liked to hunt, fish, and drink beer on his off time. Albany wasn’t a big city, but it was big enough that you never got a fucking break. Run here, run there, arrest this asshole, investigate that asshole. By the time Friday rolled around, he was so ready for the peace and tranquility of a fishing trip he could taste it.
Already this Monday morning, he was looking forward to another one.
Over the weekend, three kids went missing in the Pine Hills and Washington Park area, bringing the total for that summer up to eight. All were teenagers, all were troubled. Most were boys, but two were girls.
Troubled kids run away all the time. They might be gone a few days, sulking at a friend’s house over something their father or mother did, but they’d eventually come home. None of these kids had come back yet and from what he knew, a few of them weren’t the runaway types. They were shits at school and caused problems, but they had no reason to up and leave. Hell, Bruce himself raised hell as a kid, but he always found his way back home, even if he spent the previous night dying in a field from Mad Dogg 20/20 poisoning.
One or two kids going missing…okay, it happens. Eight? Over a span of four weeks?
Yeah, something was wrong here.
But what?
There was nothing on any of these kids. No one saw them, no one knew anything - one minute they were here, the next they weren’t. What could he or anyone else do with that?. The public broke cops’ balls all the time, but if you don’t have evidence, you don’t have evidence. What do you want? Door to door searches? Roadblocks? Dogs and helicopters? Yeah, then when you actually do it, they cry fascism. Guess I’ll just use my Spidey Senses.
Bruce wished he had spidey senses. He wanted to find these kids as much as anyone, and he was starting to get pissed off that he couldn’t. He took another sip from his mug and read on. The latest kids to go missing were three boys between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.
They were all white, all thin (except for one). If there was a serial killer in town - and Bruce hoped to fuck there wasn’t - he had a type. What, black kids aren’t good enough to kill, cannibalize, and wear like a skin suit? They should charge him with a hate crime for discrimination.
That way he’d actually stay locked up.
The door opened and Vanessa Rodregiez, his deputy, came in. A tall, shapely Hispanic woman with dark eyes and a mouth poised always on the edge of a smile, she wore her black hair in a ponytail that would look stern and severe on anyone else, but on her, looked childlike. She was twenty-seven and had been on the force for three years, but you could be forgiven for thinking her much younger. “Bright and early, I see,” she said with a grin.
Bruce grumbled.
Vanessa held down the fort during the graveyard shift, acting to the night as he acted to the day. She was young and full of energy, which clashed with Bruce, who was old and just wanted to be left alone. Despite their differences, Bruce loved her like a kid sister…an annoying kid sister he wanted to throat punch sometimes.
“You missed all the fun last night,” she said and parked her butt on the edge of Bruce’s desk. He glared at her, but she ignored him.
“Good,” he said. Then: “What happened?”
“Big fight outside of Club Vlad,” she said. “It looked like a WorldStar video.”
For a moment, Bruce was lost. “Club what?”
“Club Vlad,” Vanessa said. “Where the Fuze Box used to be.”
Ah, right. The Fuze Box was an Albany landmark, a night club for punks…or goths…or someone. Certainly not for Bruce Kenner. It was small, dingy, and always had people in black waiting outside. On Friday and Saturday nights, it blasted strange music with lyrics about fighting The Man. Kids had been fighting the Man since before Bruce was even born and they hadn’t beaten him yet. Kudos to them for still trying.
Last year, The Fuze Box closed down and someone else bought it. It reopened last month and looked more or less the same: Posers, shitty music, and spiked hair. So much spiked hair. “Place is still a pain in the ass,” Bruce said.
“Yep,” Vanessa chirped. “It doesn’t know what it wants to be now. One minute they play nightcore, the next EDM. It’s all over the place.”
Bruce raised a quizzical brow.
“Not that I’ve ever been there in my free time,” Vanessa said in a tone that suggested she had,
Bruce gave a judgemental hum.
“Anyway,” Vanessa went on, “you see we have some new missing persons?”
Sighing, Bruce sat back in his chair. “Yeah. I did.”
“People are starting to ask questions,” Vanessa warned.
That brought a terse smile to Bruce’s weathered face. “Maybe they’ll solve it then.”
“Ha, fat chance,” Vanessa said. She got up and stretched. “Anyway, I’m bushed. Here’s my…” she trailed off and looked at her empty hands. “Damn, where’s my report? I just had it?” She turned in a confused circle as if she might be able to spot her report making a break for it. “Huh,” she said. She left the office and came back a moment later holding a folder. “Found it,” she grinned.
Bruce just looked at her.
“Um…here it is.”
He didn’t take it.
Her smile faltered. She carefully sat it on top of the files Bruce was looking at.
And his hands.
“I’ll just leave that right here.” She patted it for good measure.
“Thank you,” Bruce said.
“Okay. Night.”
“Goodnight,” Bruce said as she left through a shaft of morning sunlight. Alone, Bruce sat her report aside and went back to the missing kids. This case was giving him a headache and it wasn’t even nine. With a deep sigh, he slumped back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the armrests.
Was it Saturday yet?
He could really use a fishing trip.
***
Dom came awake in the cold purple twilight with a shocked gasp like a man coming up seconds before drowning. His eyes strained from his sweaty face and his mouth hung slack, twisted in a gruesome parody of The Scream. His mind was muddled, murky - he didn’t know where he was or even who he was, but he knew this,.
He couldn’t breathe.
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but his lungs did not fill with air. A great, unseen weight seemed to bear down on his chest, and panic gripped him. He tried to move, but his arms refused to heed his brain’s command. The weight seemed heavier, all over, crushing him like a bug. Confusion filled him and he started to pant.
Without warning, his bowels and bladder loosened, and horrible wetness filled his pants. He tried to sit up, but his body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. His chest rose and fell with the frantic labor of his breath, but his lungs remained inert. A cry of fear bubbled up inside of him, but escaped his mouth only as a breathy groan.
A bust of adrenaline shot through him and he tried to stand, but succeeded only in falling off the couch instead, landing face first against the cold tile floor. He felt his nose crunch, but the pain was muted.
Dom thought he lost consciousness after that, but wasn’t sure. His next memory was of shivering so violently that his teeth clacked together. A phantom chill - perhaps from the floor - had settled into his bones, and was colder than he had ever been in his life, colder even than the time he fell into a snowbank and got lost when he was two. Shudders racked his body, and though he tried to turn over, he was too fucking heavy. It was like every muscle in his body had turned to dead weight. Fragmented thoughts swirled in his head, faint colors in the dark, but he couldn’t put any of them together.
With great effort, he managed to push himself slightly up, but a wave of lightheadedness crashed over him and he lowered his head once more. He stopped trying and simply lay there. Shortly, his eyes began to burn and he realized that he wasn’t blinking. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t blinking.
For some strange reason, that brought a fresh bout of panic. He started to hyperventilate, but his lungs still wouldn’t work. He wasn’t blinking…he wasn’t breathing…what was happening to him?
A whimper burst from his throat and he started to cry.
He must have cried himself to sleep, because he woke sometime later to the most intense headache he’d ever had. It felt like something was eating his brain from the inside out. He was sore all over, and could feel his muscles twitching, as though a thousand living things were burrowing through his body. A cramp shot down his right leg, and the toes of his left foot curled involuntarily. Slowly, his jaw clenched closed, and the muscles in his neck began to strain…then to burn. His panic turned to terror, and Dom wiggled across the floor like a worm, his limbs screaming in red agony and his brain filling with heat. He somehow wound up on his right side, and his arms curled slowly up to his chest, crossing at the wrists like a mummy. He tried to pull them apart, but the slightest movement sent waves of excruciating pain cutting through his body. His knees began to draw up to his stomach, and his fingers clenched tightly.
Cramps and spasms attacked every muscle in his body. He screamed through his teeth and shook, resembling a man in the electric chair as 40,000 volts of justice coursed through him. The pain grew gradually, getting worse and worse as minutes ticked by like hours. Higher, higher, higher - he clenched his eyes closed and shrieked as it became unbearable. Disjointed thoughts flashed through his mind - prayers, threats, curses, Jesus fucking…FUCK.
What was happening? God, what was happening to him? Was it fentanyl? He’d seen videos of people high on fentanyl, and they leaned in weird positions. He didn’t do drugs but maybe he ingested it somehow.
His panic may have returned if all of his muscles hadn’t picked that moment to contract as one. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his jaw unclenched just enough for him to utter a high. Agonized scream that echoed through his empty apartment like thunder.
A human being can only take so much before giving out. When the pain reached a crescendo, and Dom mercifully sank into consciousness once more. The sun rose and cascaded through the apartment’s sole window, falling over his huddled form. Slowly, it tracked across the sky before setting again. As the last rays disappeared behind the horizon, Dom’s eyes opened. The pain of the night before was blessedly gone, replaced by a feeling of numbness - the cool ash after the hot fire. His thoughts were slow and thick like molasses, but he could actually think again. Nightmare memories flooded back to him, but he wasn’t sure they were real. He was lying on his side, his arms wrapped around his chest as if for warmth, and his teeth lightly chattered against the icy chill. He was so cold that he didn’t want to move, but he couldn’t stay here forever. He needed help. He needed…
A shower.
Yeah, a hot shower. That would warm him up.
Gritting his teeth, he slowly sat up, ready for a burst of pain.
But none came.
He did, however, feel heavy. Getting to his feet, he stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself against the counter. His limbs had no feeling. It’s like they weren’t even there. Head hung, Dom tried to catch his breath, but it felt like he wasn’t breathing at all. His eyelids drooped closed and he felt like he was going to fall down. Summoning all the might he could, he shuffled into the bathroom with the stiff gait of an old man. He snapped the light on, and cold, white brilliance filled the space, blinding him.
Leaning heavily against the sink, he gripped the cold porcelain. Suddenly, he was afraid of looking into the mirror. He was sure that whatever reflection he saw, it would be of something else, something monstrous.
Dom lifted his head and faced the glass.
His heart shrank.
The man in the mirror was him but different. His skin was white as milk, lacking all color whatsoever save for the ugly purple patch on the left side. IResembling a giant bruise, it started at the temple and extended down to the slope of his neck, disappearing beneath his T-shirt. He gingerly lifted the shirt, and moaned when he saw that his entire left side was discolored, the purple edged with a puffy shade of pink. His sallow skin clung tight to his ribcage, and his hip bones stuck out so much it looked painful. Back in the mirror, his cheeks were sunken, hollow, and his eyes were a hazy, dishwater gray. His skull seemed bigger, his hair longer. Dom wanted to whip his head away from the phantom before him, to never see it again, but he was transfixed.
There was no way that thing was -
Dom looked away, cutting that thought off before it could finish.
A shower.
He needed a shower.
Slowly, stiffly, Dom undressed, peeling off his shirt and his soiled pants. He dropped them in a heap on the floor and stepped under the spray. He could feel the water pounding against him, but it provided no heat. It was neither hot nor cold. It was simply there.
Dom pressed his head to the slick shower wall and stood there for a long time. He was spent, tired, and fried - he had no more emotions left to give. He got out after a little while, dried off, and put on a clean pair of shorts. He settled into bed and lay there with his hands folded over his chest and his eyes open. They felt gritty, dry. His stomach felt bloated, gassy. He was drowsy now, the weight of the past two days (or was it two weeks?) coming down on him all at once. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
He was still asleep - but aware - when the knocking on his door started the next morning. Time was funny in this state of being, fast and jerky but also slow and echoing. Keys rattled the knob turned. The landlord came in with a cop. They saw him on the bed, laid out like a corpse for a viewing, and the cop radioed in a code 35. Soon, cops were all around him, making noise and touching things. He had the vague sense of discomfort and embarrassment at the intrusion. A baling man in a suit stood over him, a cop who looked like a redneck beside him. “He didn’t die here,” the medical examiner said.
The cop looked at him questioningly. Dom caught the name KENNER on his name tag.
“See this?” the M.E. said and gestured to Dom’s face. “That’s livor mortis. When you die, your blood pools at the lowest point. If you’re on your left side, for example, it pools on the left.”
Kenner looked at Dom and then back to the M.E. “Someone moved him?”
“Looks like it,” the M.E. said.
“When did he die?”
The M.E. examined Dom as though he were nothing more than a side of beef. “At a glance? Three days. I won’t have a better answer until I open him up.”
Dom was still awake when they put him into a body bag and zipped it up. He felt a stirring of fear beneath the cold numbness, but he was too tired to worry about it now.
Later, he thought.
He would panic later.
For now, Dom slept.

TLDR: I have had non spinning dizziness for 3 years, did every test, saw a world expert in dizziness at Mayo clinic, diagnosed with Panic Disorder, General Anxiety Disorder, Agoraphobia, possibly Vestibular Migraines from a neurologist, but not PPPD, and I accept it finally.
Hello everyone,
I wanted to share my story with dizziness as I have read many others on many different forums and hope that this can help others like others have helped me!
I have experienced dizziness for over three years now (28M) that is non-spinning in nature, it is an up and down feeling like you are on an elevator, on a boat, or walking on sand as some may describe it, typically while walking, standing, or slight position adjustments while sitting or laying down. It has caused anxiety, panic attacks, shakiness, heart palpitations, arm/leg numbess, neck tingling, neck pain, muscle spasms, brain fog, hearing sensitivity, headaches, fevers, and others I am probably forgetting.
I recently visited with Dr. Staab at Mayo Clinic who is one of the best in the world at looking into problems with dizziness, among many countless providers over the last three years. Dr. Staab specifically researches and treats dizziness, and recently diagnosed me with Panic Disorder, General Anxiety Disorder, Agoraphobia, but NOT Persistent postural perceptual dizziness (PPPD) as I don’t completely fit the criteria. The reason I was given was that I did not have a typical reason such as an ear infection or other PPPD pre-cursors, and that certain motion does not trigger dizziness in me like typical PPPD patients (I can play video games and watch movies with no issues). I for sure thought I had PPPD, but regardless, treatment is relatively the same with or without that diagnosis for my symptoms.
The best way it was explained to me was that my initial dizziness episode three years ago was a panic attack where the first symptom was dizziness followed by other physical symptoms, and heightened anxiety/panic over this dizziness caused my body to be overly alert/sensitive to the space/movement around me, creating a loop of constant dizziness. While my anxiety has improved tremendously and I have only experienced less than 10 (being generous with this) panic attacks my whole life, the dizziness has improved but remained, as it is described as basically a residual effect of the initial anxiety/panic attacks that my body has not yet corrected.
I also saw Dr. Beh who is a neurologist that specializes in vestibular disorders and migraines, and he further diagnosed me with Vestibular Migraines (which Dr. Staab says is a possibility but he doesn’t have enough evidence to diagnose me with it).
My current treatment includes taking Venlafaxine (going to 75mg soon) to directly treat the dizziness and help with any remaining anxiety/panic issues, receive therapy (psychoeducation and CBT) by a therapist with a PhD preferably, and vestibular rehab. Dr. Staab also said massages (light on the neck) could be helpful as dizziness can cause neck and back muscles to tighten due to the body stiffening over time to try to avoid dizziness sensations.
I was told to take Vitamin B12 (400mg) and venlafaxine in the morning. In the afternoon I take COq10 (200mg) after lunch and 200mg after dinner. Before bed, I take magnesium glycinate (500mg) and effexor. I take other supplements, but these I specifically take for migraine/dizziness related issues.
I have seen Dr. Staab, Dr. Beh, the Vestibular Psychologist Emily Kostelnik, have watched the Steady Coach on youtube, looked into the dizzy cook, and have seen multiple Neurologists, ENT’s, Cardiologists, PCP’s, Physical therapists, audiologists, gastro’s, even an allergist. I was misdiagnosed with POT’s, but otherwise every test that was done came back normal except that I have a hiatial hernia, fatty liver, low vitamin D, and a deviated septum.
I’ve had the brain scans, blood tests, heart monitoscans/ultrasounds, tilt table, ear tests, balance tests, epley maneuver, rotary chair, basically every test you can think of (some multiple times) and have tried basically every supplements/lifestyle changes you can think of as well. I have also done a lot of the above tests at Mayo Clinic in their dizziness program that I was accepted into in Minnesota.
My dizziness began at work 3 years ago when it felt like I was bouncing up and down just while standing and my body proceded to panic. I went from having this kind of episode once a month, to once every few weeks, to every day, to basically dizzy any time I stood or walked. Because of the dizziness, I stopped going to stores, didn’t shower as much as I should have, did not workout, and took off of work as it was so difficult to just walk. I currently work full time, workout, am in a relationship, and can do so much that I felt like I couldn’t do. I still have days where I need to take a break, and you won’t catch me on a boat for awhile as that triggers me GREATLY!
Two things that have for sure helped me so far, walking and time. Going for walks was a hard thing to start being dizzy, but that is something I can for sure say I’ve noticed helps without a doubt. And time; my dizziness didn’t improve overnight, it’s been three years, and i still deal with it! I’ve learned it isn’t going to hurt me and to simply learn to live with it (for now) and to push myself baby steps at a time.
Also, parasympathetic breathing has helped me tremendously as well as guided meditation to relax and practice mindfulness. I pay for an app called Downdog which has great guided programs (and yoga!) and currently get it for free for being a student.
Don’t give up, even if it feels like you are just trying to survive. Don’t let doctors write you off, advocate for yourself. If the doctor doesn’t listen or help, find new ones. Lean on your support system. Help others and share your story so there is more awareness and research for dizziness. It is one of the most difficult symptoms to diagnose. And it is just that, a SYMPTOM! You are you and not your symptoms or diagnoses!
If you have any questions, I will try my best to respond to everything no matter the question or if it is 10 years from now. There is SO much to this journey, and attempting to fit it into one post feels impossible. One thing that bothered me was people posting about their symptoms and never giving updates/responding to others, so I will try my best to do so…

The world was a boozy whirl of lights and sounds. Images, broken and fragmented, came and went. Voices, laughter, screaming. The ground pitched like the deck of a tempest-tossed ship, and he felt heavy, as though the ground were pulling him to it. C’mere, Dommy. He fell, lay on the pavement, and pushed himself up again, staggering like a drunk on his way home. His head spun, his body ached, and things seemed blurry, like half-formed images glimpsed underwater.
It was the light blue hour before dawn and Dom was…somewhere. He should have recognized the stores and street signs around him, but he didn’t. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and a sense of confusion gripped him so strongly that he was beginning to panic. Where was he? What happened?
The world spun away again and the next thing he knew, he was lying in a heap of garbage bags, used needles, and rubbish. He came awake with a jerk and sat up so fast that a bolt of pain jammed into his skull. He winced and pressed his hand to his forehead. He felt hot, clammy.
Something was seriously wrong.
Somehow he got to his feet again and started walking. The sun was up now and the streets were filled with people. They all sneered in disgust as he passed, and he wrapped his arms around his chest like a baby comforting itself. He was getting cold. His muscles were sore. Tears streamed down his face and he wanted to cry.
Going on instinct alone, Dom made his way back home and climbed the steps to his apartment. Exhaustion swept over him and he sagged against the door as he dug in his pocket for the keys. They shook in his hand and he had to focus really hard to get the key into the lock.
Inside, he collapsed onto the couch and his eyelids instantly drooped. He was so weary that he couldn’t lift his head, couldn’t form a single coherent thought. Dom felt himself starting to sink, and snapped his eyes open with a start. Something in his soul told him that if he slept, he would die.
He couldn’t help it, though. He was falling, tumbling, hands reaching up from hell to grab him. His eyes fluttered closed again and the world started to go dark, his heart slamming in fear. He tried to fight, but the pull of darkness was too strong, too alluring. Why was he fighting? Why not just…give up? Hadn’t he thought of killing himself before? Didn’t he hate his life and himself? What was there to fight for? A wife? Kids? A community that loved and respected him? Shit, affordable groceries?
No.
There was nothing.
He had nothing and was nothing.
A sense of peace blossomed from the darkness, and suddenly death didn’t seem so scary. In fact, it was warm…inviting.
It was life that was cold and hateful. Not death.
Death accepted you no matter who you were. It didn’t reject you…it didn’t ignore you. If you sought it, you would find it, and if you embraced it, it would embrace you.
With that thought in mind, Dom gave up.
And died.
***
Bruce Kenner, captain of the 5th Albany precinct, sat behind his desk on the morning of June 28 and lazily leafed through a stack of files as he sipped from a mug of coffee. A roughly built man with a dark goatee and graying blonde hair, he looked more like a small town southern sheriff than a low level public works functionary. In fact, he tended to act like it too. He liked to hunt, fish, and drink beer on his off time. Albany wasn’t a big city, but it was big enough that you never got a fucking break. Run here, run there, arrest this asshole, investigate that asshole. By the time Friday rolled around, he was so ready for the peace and tranquility of a fishing trip he could taste it.
Already this Monday morning, he was looking forward to another one.
Over the weekend, three kids went missing in the Pine Hills and Washington Park area, bringing the total for that summer up to eight. All were teenagers, all were troubled. Most were boys, but two were girls.
Troubled kids run away all the time. They might be gone a few days, sulking at a friend’s house over something their father or mother did, but they’d eventually come home. None of these kids had come back yet and from what he knew, a few of them weren’t the runaway types. They were shits at school and caused problems, but they had no reason to up and leave. Hell, Bruce himself raised hell as a kid, but he always found his way back home, even if he spent the previous night dying in a field from Mad Dogg 20/20 poisoning.
One or two kids going missing…okay, it happens. Eight? Over a span of four weeks?
Yeah, something was wrong here.
But what?
There was nothing on any of these kids. No one saw them, no one knew anything - one minute they were here, the next they weren’t. What could he or anyone else do with that?. The public broke cops’ balls all the time, but if you don’t have evidence, you don’t have evidence. What do you want? Door to door searches? Roadblocks? Dogs and helicopters? Yeah, then when you actually do it, they cry fascism. Guess I’ll just use my Spidey Senses.
Bruce wished he had spidey senses. He wanted to find these kids as much as anyone, and he was starting to get pissed off that he couldn’t. He took another sip from his mug and read on. The latest kids to go missing were three boys between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.
They were all white, all thin (except for one). If there was a serial killer in town - and Bruce hoped to fuck there wasn’t - he had a type. What, black kids aren’t good enough to kill, cannibalize, and wear like a skin suit? They should charge him with a hate crime for discrimination.
That way he’d actually stay locked up.
The door opened and Vanessa Rodregiez, his deputy, came in. A tall, shapely Hispanic woman with dark eyes and a mouth poised always on the edge of a smile, she wore her black hair in a ponytail that would look stern and severe on anyone else, but on her, looked childlike. She was twenty-seven and had been on the force for three years, but you could be forgiven for thinking her much younger. “Bright and early, I see,” she said with a grin.
Bruce grumbled.
Vanessa held down the fort during the graveyard shift, acting to the night as he acted to the day. She was young and full of energy, which clashed with Bruce, who was old and just wanted to be left alone. Despite their differences, Bruce loved her like a kid sister…an annoying kid sister he wanted to throat punch sometimes.
“You missed all the fun last night,” she said and parked her butt on the edge of Bruce’s desk. He glared at her, but she ignored him.
“Good,” he said. Then: “What happened?”
“Big fight outside of Club Vlad,” she said. “It looked like a WorldStar video.”
For a moment, Bruce was lost. “Club what?”
“Club Vlad,” Vanessa said. “Where the Fuze Box used to be.”
Ah, right. The Fuze Box was an Albany landmark, a night club for punks…or goths…or someone. Certainly not for Bruce Kenner. It was small, dingy, and always had people in black waiting outside. On Friday and Saturday nights, it blasted strange music with lyrics about fighting The Man. Kids had been fighting the Man since before Bruce was even born and they hadn’t beaten him yet. Kudos to them for still trying.
Last year, The Fuze Box closed down and someone else bought it. It reopened last month and looked more or less the same: Posers, shitty music, and spiked hair. So much spiked hair. “Place is still a pain in the ass,” Bruce said.
“Yep,” Vanessa chirped. “It doesn’t know what it wants to be now. One minute they play nightcore, the next EDM. It’s all over the place.”
Bruce raised a quizzical brow.
“Not that I’ve ever been there in my free time,” Vanessa said in a tone that suggested she had,
Bruce gave a judgemental hum.
“Anyway,” Vanessa went on, “you see we have some new missing persons?”
Sighing, Bruce sat back in his chair. “Yeah. I did.”
“People are starting to ask questions,” Vanessa warned.
That brought a terse smile to Bruce’s weathered face. “Maybe they’ll solve it then.”
“Ha, fat chance,” Vanessa said. She got up and stretched. “Anyway, I’m bushed. Here’s my…” she trailed off and looked at her empty hands. “Damn, where’s my report? I just had it?” She turned in a confused circle as if she might be able to spot her report making a break for it. “Huh,” she said. She left the office and came back a moment later holding a folder. “Found it,” she grinned.
Bruce just looked at her.
“Um…here it is.”
He didn’t take it.
Her smile faltered. She carefully sat it on top of the files Bruce was looking at.
And his hands.
“I’ll just leave that right here.” She patted it for good measure.
“Thank you,” Bruce said.
“Okay. Night.”
“Goodnight,” Bruce said as she left through a shaft of morning sunlight. Alone, Bruce sat her report aside and went back to the missing kids. This case was giving him a headache and it wasn’t even nine. With a deep sigh, he slumped back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the armrests.
Was it Saturday yet?
He could really use a fishing trip.
***
Dom came awake in the cold purple twilight with a shocked gasp like a man coming up seconds before drowning. His eyes strained from his sweaty face and his mouth hung slack, twisted in a gruesome parody of The Scream. His mind was muddled, murky - he didn’t know where he was or even who he was, but he knew this,.
He couldn’t breathe.
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but his lungs did not fill with air. A great, unseen weight seemed to bear down on his chest, and panic gripped him. He tried to move, but his arms refused to heed his brain’s command. The weight seemed heavier, all over, crushing him like a bug. Confusion filled him and he started to pant.
Without warning, his bowels and bladder loosened, and horrible wetness filled his pants. He tried to sit up, but his body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. His chest rose and fell with the frantic labor of his breath, but his lungs remained inert. A cry of fear bubbled up inside of him, but escaped his mouth only as a breathy groan.
A bust of adrenaline shot through him and he tried to stand, but succeeded only in falling off the couch instead, landing face first against the cold tile floor. He felt his nose crunch, but the pain was muted.
Dom thought he lost consciousness after that, but wasn’t sure. His next memory was of shivering so violently that his teeth clacked together. A phantom chill - perhaps from the floor - had settled into his bones, and was colder than he had ever been in his life, colder even than the time he fell into a snowbank and got lost when he was two. Shudders racked his body, and though he tried to turn over, he was too fucking heavy. It was like every muscle in his body had turned to dead weight. Fragmented thoughts swirled in his head, faint colors in the dark, but he couldn’t put any of them together.
With great effort, he managed to push himself slightly up, but a wave of lightheadedness crashed over him and he lowered his head once more. He stopped trying and simply lay there. Shortly, his eyes began to burn and he realized that he wasn’t blinking. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t blinking.
For some strange reason, that brought a fresh bout of panic. He started to hyperventilate, but his lungs still wouldn’t work. He wasn’t blinking…he wasn’t breathing…what was happening to him?
A whimper burst from his throat and he started to cry.
He must have cried himself to sleep, because he woke sometime later to the most intense headache he’d ever had. It felt like something was eating his brain from the inside out. He was sore all over, and could feel his muscles twitching, as though a thousand living things were burrowing through his body. A cramp shot down his right leg, and the toes of his left foot curled involuntarily. Slowly, his jaw clenched closed, and the muscles in his neck began to strain…then to burn. His panic turned to terror, and Dom wiggled across the floor like a worm, his limbs screaming in red agony and his brain filling with heat. He somehow wound up on his right side, and his arms curled slowly up to his chest, crossing at the wrists like a mummy. He tried to pull them apart, but the slightest movement sent waves of excruciating pain cutting through his body. His knees began to draw up to his stomach, and his fingers clenched tightly.
Cramps and spasms attacked every muscle in his body. He screamed through his teeth and shook, resembling a man in the electric chair as 40,000 volts of justice coursed through him. The pain grew gradually, getting worse and worse as minutes ticked by like hours. Higher, higher, higher - he clenched his eyes closed and shrieked as it became unbearable. Disjointed thoughts flashed through his mind - prayers, threats, curses, Jesus fucking…FUCK.
What was happening? God, what was happening to him? Was it fentanyl? He’d seen videos of people high on fentanyl, and they leaned in weird positions. He didn’t do drugs but maybe he ingested it somehow.
His panic may have returned if all of his muscles hadn’t picked that moment to contract as one. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his jaw unclenched just enough for him to utter a high. Agonized scream that echoed through his empty apartment like thunder.
A human being can only take so much before giving out. When the pain reached a crescendo, and Dom mercifully sank into consciousness once more. The sun rose and cascaded through the apartment’s sole window, falling over his huddled form. Slowly, it tracked across the sky before setting again. As the last rays disappeared behind the horizon, Dom’s eyes opened. The pain of the night before was blessedly gone, replaced by a feeling of numbness - the cool ash after the hot fire. His thoughts were slow and thick like molasses, but he could actually think again. Nightmare memories flooded back to him, but he wasn’t sure they were real. He was lying on his side, his arms wrapped around his chest as if for warmth, and his teeth lightly chattered against the icy chill. He was so cold that he didn’t want to move, but he couldn’t stay here forever. He needed help. He needed…
A shower.
Yeah, a hot shower. That would warm him up.
Gritting his teeth, he slowly sat up, ready for a burst of pain.
But none came.
He did, however, feel heavy. Getting to his feet, he stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself against the counter. His limbs had no feeling. It’s like they weren’t even there. Head hung, Dom tried to catch his breath, but it felt like he wasn’t breathing at all. His eyelids drooped closed and he felt like he was going to fall down. Summoning all the might he could, he shuffled into the bathroom with the stiff gait of an old man. He snapped the light on, and cold, white brilliance filled the space, blinding him.
Leaning heavily against the sink, he gripped the cold porcelain. Suddenly, he was afraid of looking into the mirror. He was sure that whatever reflection he saw, it would be of something else, something monstrous.
Dom lifted his head and faced the glass.
His heart shrank.
The man in the mirror was him but different. His skin was white as milk, lacking all color whatsoever save for the ugly purple patch on the left side. IResembling a giant bruise, it started at the temple and extended down to the slope of his neck, disappearing beneath his T-shirt. He gingerly lifted the shirt, and moaned when he saw that his entire left side was discolored, the purple edged with a puffy shade of pink. His sallow skin clung tight to his ribcage, and his hip bones stuck out so much it looked painful. Back in the mirror, his cheeks were sunken, hollow, and his eyes were a hazy, dishwater gray. His skull seemed bigger, his hair longer. Dom wanted to whip his head away from the phantom before him, to never see it again, but he was transfixed.
There was no way that thing was -
Dom looked away, cutting that thought off before it could finish.
A shower.
He needed a shower.
Slowly, stiffly, Dom undressed, peeling off his shirt and his soiled pants. He dropped them in a heap on the floor and stepped under the spray. He could feel the water pounding against him, but it provided no heat. It was neither hot nor cold. It was simply there.
Dom pressed his head to the slick shower wall and stood there for a long time. He was spent, tired, and fried - he had no more emotions left to give. He got out after a little while, dried off, and put on a clean pair of shorts. He settled into bed and lay there with his hands folded over his chest and his eyes open. They felt gritty, dry. His stomach felt bloated, gassy. He was drowsy now, the weight of the past two days (or was it two weeks?) coming down on him all at once. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
He was still asleep - but aware - when the knocking on his door started the next morning. Time was funny in this state of being, fast and jerky but also slow and echoing. Keys rattled the knob turned. The landlord came in with a cop. They saw him on the bed, laid out like a corpse for a viewing, and the cop radioed in a code 35. Soon, cops were all around him, making noise and touching things. He had the vague sense of discomfort and embarrassment at the intrusion. A baling man in a suit stood over him, a cop who looked like a redneck beside him. “He didn’t die here,” the medical examiner said.
The cop looked at him questioningly. Dom caught the name KENNER on his name tag.
“See this?” the M.E. said and gestured to Dom’s face. “That’s livor mortis. When you die, your blood pools at the lowest point. If you’re on your left side, for example, it pools on the left.”
Kenner looked at Dom and then back to the M.E. “Someone moved him?”
“Looks like it,” the M.E. said.
“When did he die?”
The M.E. examined Dom as though he were nothing more than a side of beef. “At a glance? Three days. I won’t have a better answer until I open him up.”
Dom was still awake when they put him into a body bag and zipped it up. He felt a stirring of fear beneath the cold numbness, but he was too tired to worry about it now.
Later, he thought.
He would panic later.
For now, Dom slept.

So this is my 9th day and I'm feeling great. I have a small lingering headache but I'm trying to consume more water.
I was disappointed this morning as I weighed myself and have been the same weight the last couple of days. BUT... I had to remind myself:

I've been working out (lightly, but it's still something) and walking. Last night on my walk, I even jogged intermittently. Actually lifted my f**king feet off the ground -- something I haven't done in god knows how long.
Despite wanting and (stupidly) expecting more immediate results, I lived a sedentary lifestyle for a decade and drank every night. It's going to take more time and effort to reverse this damage to my body. Like they say, it's easier to put it on than burn it off.

And most importantly, I'm still sober. I didn't wake up with a hangover, I wasn't nervous that I'd get pulled over on my way to work, and I didn't need to avoid my coworkers this morning.

Hi,
I live in a house that was built in 1960 and we have a ceiling kitchen light that is flickering whenever there is heavy electricity use - like running AC or using a toaster oven. It must be damaging the LED bulb as well. They go bad (dimmer or flickering even when there is no heavy electricity use) much quicker, compared to the ones used in somewhere else. I have been replacing it almost every year now and I just noticed that the current one is on its way out.
Is there any remedy one can recommend? I have been using dimmable LED bulbs for it, even though the ceiling light is not connect to a dimmer, because someone at the hardware store told me that they tend to flicker less with the voltage fluctuation. I am not sure if that is true or if it actually has made the flickering worse, by being sensitive to a voltage fluctuation. The flickering light gives me headache and any help would be much appreciated!
Edit: I read that incandescent bulbs would ride over the voltage fluctuations, but it is an "enclosed" fixture, which limits wattage, and I would want decent amount of light. So I chose LED bulbs. Any suggestions would be welcome in this regard too!

My patience is worn so incredibly thin and today's events were the last straw. Can I get some advice please. My step daughters use these horrible body care products that mainstream society is ignorant to how toxic and harmful they can be. Frankly, if someone wants to poison themselves, then that is not my business. And I get it, when I was their age I was into all the synthetically fragranced lotions and body care. But these Bath and Body Works and Victoria's Secret sprays and hair care give me headaches and are nauseating to smell. They literally will wake me out of my sleep because I'm so sensitive and such a light sleeper as it is. I've nicely and apologetically (as usual) asked the kids to spray them outside when they are about to leave, but they either forget or think I won't notice if I'm asleep. Or it might be just their hairspray.
Next, my cat's only accessible litterbox in the middle of the night is the one in the guest bathroom which the kids use. Our only other bathroom is the master bathroom which is inside our bedroom, so that doesn't work for various reasons. Anyways, the kids shut the guest bathroom door in the middle of the night, so my cat didn't have access if she needed it. I'm just furious. My cat is my child and the one guaranteed joy in my life, and I hate that she has to endure any discomfort at the hands of the family I married into. I put a sign on the door to remind the kids to always leave the bathroom door open when they aren't using it, but they don't remember.
My husband isn't good at reminding them, and he also thinks asking the kids to shut their bedroom door while using their hairspray is controlling.
After spending so much time tending to my in-laws (trips and seeing them multiple times a week), my 1 year anniversary overlapping with Mother's Day weekend and having the kids, dealing with BM constantly dropping the kids on us last minute including on our anniversary weekend, pure exhaustion and sleep deprivation, this garbage has me crying and wanting to scream.
Husband, this is why I hate when your kids come to our house.
Edit: we have 2 litterboxes for the baby. One in our bedroom's bathroom and one in the guest bathroom. When she is in my room and the door is shut, she always has access to that litter box. When we sleep, we did have her in the guest bathroom, but it bothered me that she was stuck in there when the kids use it. So we have been letting her roam free in the living room at night. The main reason we put her in the bathroom was because she would meow to come in our room, and I can't sleep with her. Now we have her roaming free in the living room (i got a super loud white noise machine to drown out sound), but the kids need to keep that bathroom door open after they use the restroom in the middle of the night. I brought the litterbox into the living room, but it makes a huge mess and she is constantly having her set up changed, with isn't fair to her. She lives here full time and deserves a comfortable routine like everyone else.
Edit: sloppy bioparents that don't believe in guiding children, having limits, gently but firmly correcting children's behaviors that affect other people, please downvote any where I leave a comment on this thread, so we can get a solid head count 🤪

Throwaway account because I am more than embarrassed and I don’t want anyone that knows me to know what I’m going through..
Jesus.. I’m genuinely scared right now. I’ve been picking for years and I’ve had a feeling my septum was deteriorating, but I just now saw how bad it’s gotten. Every single day, multiple times a day I’ll have a nosebleed from picking the scab and crust out of the inner wall of my nose on my septum. It felt unusually thin if that makes sense, and I proceeded to put a pinky in each side of my nose to see if there was a hole. There is- it’s fairly large. I could feel my other finger through and through. Terrified, I shined a light into my nostril and I have a huge hole in the inner wall of my septum. I’m mortified, I don’t know what to do.. I realize I have an issue and I need to get it treated. I think this is the only thing that’s ever made me immediately stop. I’m so scared now to go to the doctors or anyone for the fear of questioning. Why did I do this to myself I am so scared and disgusted

Today I had a TBI DBQ for increase in severity. I have a left arm tremor so severe I can’t pick up a glass of water without spilling it. I can’t even put my contacts in! The VA sent me to a pain management doctor 3.5 hours from my house. This is the jist of the questions he asked me:
Do you have headaches? Have you missed work as a result? What do you take? Do you have light sensitivity? Do you have floaters? Do you have memory issues? What kind? Have they affected your work? Personal life?
27 minutes with him and he says “Thats all I need, I will send this off today” I said what about this tremor? He told me to file a neuro claim as it wasn’t part of a TBI eval. Are you F’in kidding me dude? 7 hours of driving for that?!?
What do I do to do document the time (or lack thereof) and complete lack of interest in my symptoms?

Okay, I know it's probably crazy to go to the internet and head to reddit looking for a diagnosis. Here's the thing, where I currently live you can't change doctors if you already have a specialist unless the doctor would discharge you or you go through a different system. Well I am running into all kinds of issues there, because as my PCP told me I have been "severely medically neglected." I was told I had an extra electrical current by my cardiologist then my electrophysiologist confirmed it but wrote in his notes that he thought I had a mild case of POTS, something I only found out recently after going to my PCP attempting to get a referral for a new cardiologist and go through the tens of thousands of dollars worth of tests all over again. I can't get ahold of either my cardiologist or electrophysiologist, no matter how hard I try. My PCP is having nothing but issues getting a referral sent over to a new cardiologist in a different medical system, I have tried numerous times to get it worked out, I just can't. I also have two jobs and am working anywhere between 50-70 hours a week so I don't have all hours of the day playing phone tag with two doctors offices. So I am at my wits end. I am moving to Texas soon for law school (why I am working so many hours) and am hoping to get it sorted out there but it feels like my heart is just getting worse.
I am a 23F, with a pre-existing medical condition, an autoimmune disease (PANS). My family has a history of autoimmune and heart conditions. My younger cousin who shares the same blood type as me (from our mothers) just got diagnosed with prolonged QT syndrome, but our EKGS don't look the same. My maternal grandfather (again same blood type) has been told he could drop down dead at any second from a heart aneurysm.
Here's my symptoms. I have atrial flutter and atrial fib. I've seen my heart rate get as low as 38bpm and as high as 180 bpm (that I know of, often during exercise). My resting heart rate is around 100 bpm and sometimes is 120 on a very bad day. I have chest pain and heart palpitations. Here's the things I can't do without struggling to breathe or stop breathing in general: Stand up, squat, go up stairs, lean my head back, lean my head forward, stretch, go upside down, not eat for a while, spin in a circle, sit up. I ran after going to the gym consistently for three months and working on endurance (very light running) and my chest consistently was hurting for three days and off and on for two days after that. Water used to help but it doesn't do much anymore. My vision goes black at times, I have gotten very close to passing out without actually doing so. I have an arrhythmia in my heart, it loves to skip beats on me. My blood pools in my legs really bad, I get white splotches on my legs with my veins going purple and it also looks like I have strawberry legs (doesn't happen all the time but I have noticed it). I used to never get headaches at all, now I get consistent migraines in my temples.
All of this started out with just having some issues breathing when I stood up and its only gotten worse over the past couple of years. I honestly don't know what to do and it all makes me anxious not knowing.

5:43 Woke up
6:00 Osho meditation camp for meditation
7:39 Smoking corner
8:00 Shower
8:11 Washing utensils
8:20 Youtube
8:48 Nap
10.30. Headed to exam
11.38 Smoking corner
12.27 Started watching YouTube
(I can't enjoy anything, time pass is also getting hard) (Whats the meaning of my life, no joy ,no emotions, no goals, what should i do, i am not interested in anything but i cant die either what should i do? Im so lost here ,fuckk ,living in this extreme loneliness but i tried ,i tried so much to make friends, understand them, laugh with them, live with them, but thats only makes me feel so distant/different from them, i really can't understand these people,i cant understand what they are saying what they are feeling, how they are enjoying,how they are living this life, i want to get drunk so bad but i don't have money either, what should i do? Some people tried to help me but nothing happened, im just tired all the time, lonely all the time, even when im in mania, mania is fucking crazy, atleast i can tolerate this life at mania, but i really hate when i am depressed, i just want to go somewhere but where should i go ,i dont have a single fucking clue, im hopeful but losing my hope every second, a person can survive with food, clothes and house right if so then why aint i surviving)
(But i really want to fight someone who shows no mercy, no humanity ,follows no rules, i just want to fight , i would pay someone to fight me But whom should i choose to fight yeah i have something to think about, i hope fight will make me feel alive, i aint afraid to go to jail or smth but thinking about parents and their dream i cant take a step,after all i cant betray them, so i have to fight secretly ,very privately)
Im feeling sick
1.19 Lunch
2:22 Watching untold story 2
4:14 Headed to smoking corner to think what to do today
(I reached to the conclusion that i cant just whine like this every time, from tomorrow i will get back to older routine,no one can help me except myself)
4:39 Back to YouTube
(I remember fighting with my brother, we were best friends and worst enemies, we used to fight everyday until i left home for study, we used to break bones, pinch into eyes, hit down the spine, tear each other, but since i left home we don't fight, my brother eventually made friends but i couldn't, i want to fight again not with my brother neither those short fights with weak punches, i want long fights with strong punches ,kicks wathever, i miss fighting)
5:09 im trying to sleep
(The sound of fan is giving me headache)
7:24 Woke up and out for nightwalk
8;20 Youtube
8:23 Light went off
8.52 Back at YouTube
(I might be the weakest man to ever exist)
10:13 Dinner
10:31 Bedtime
Cigerattes: 6
People interacted :3 (excluding shopkeepers)
Overall day : 4/10

As the title suggests, I'm a long time reader and a first time poster. My partner (of 10 years) and I have been going through the IVF process for three years now. Neither of us have children nor prior pregnancies:
My age: 42
Partner age (male): 47
We started the IVF process in 2021 with a consultation. I then found out that I had polyps that needed to be removed. Polyps were removed in 2022. Partner had low count (with low sperm mobility and motility).

Our 1st IVF cycle May 2023: 8 eggs retrieved. 5 mature. 2 made it to blastocyst. We did not do PGT-A testing at that time and did a fresh transfer. It ended in a chemical pregnancy.
Our 2nd IVF cycle July 2023: 1 egg retrieved. 1 mature. PGT-A tested: normal. Day 5Aa Euploid. Froze the embryo.
Our 3rd IVF cycle September 2023: 10 eggs retrieved. 5 mature. PGT-A tested 0 normal.
Our 4th IVF cycle November 2023: 5 eggs retrieved. 3 mature. PGT-A tested 2 normal. Froze the embrys.

A total of 3 euploid embryos. We've now exhausted the number of cycles my insurance will allow and just did our second embroyo transfer on May 6, 2024. I go in for my Beta tomorrow however I've been having an emotional meltdown. I recently found an old (very old... 7 years) "easy@home" pregnancy test (I know, I know) and I took it. It showed negative. So, now I'm becoming more and more discouraged. I had light spotting 3 days post transfer and slight tummy pulls and an on and off headache for two days. But, that's about it. I've been tracking my biometrics using an Oura ring (BBT, heart rate variability, resting heart rate, and respiratory rate). It all tracks as if I could be pregnant. But, I know that the medications (PIO and estradiol) could also be causing the effects. With the chemical pregnancy, I had an excruciating headache. I can't recall if there was any spotting. But, sore breasts.
I'm not sure if my partner will be able to take it with another failure. I feel sad. Alone. Broken. I've never talked to anyone but my partner about our experience and he can't take it anymore. I finally broke down and told a friend today and of course she was supportive. However, she is childless by choice and I'm not sure she fully understands the pain and anguish this whole experience is/has been. I feel that I should have began this journey so much earlier. But, I didn't. Career. Uncertainty. And, just general ignorance got in the way. I kick myself constantly.
I feel like I'm letting my partner (and myself) down. (I know that I shouldn't. But, those are the feelings.)