Let me tell you a story…
I found myself sitting at the doctor’s table. It’s a new doctor, so I’m not yet acquainted. The doctor walks in. We shake hands. Then, asks a blunt question: “What medication are you taking for your heart failure?” I found it to be a silly question. It’s likely a mistake in the medical records. After all, I was a new patient. With that said, I shrugged it off. “I don’t have heart failure. Never been diagnosed…” With a second glance, the doctor responded: “Your recorded heart ejection fraction is drastically low. I suggest we look into it…”
After an echocardiogram, it was confirmed: I had heart failure. I was diagnosed with grade 1 diastolic dysfunction – a mild form of heart failure where the heart muscle has difficulty relaxing and filling with blood during the diastolic phase of the cardiac cycle. After multiple tests, my doctor remained puzzled about my condition. There was no known cause for my heart failure. No issues with hypertension, diabetes, obesity, coronary artery disease, previous heart attack, etc… So why do I have heart failure? It puzzled my doctor, but I had a possible lead…
If you don’t know, I have been diagnosed with complex PTSD and BPD due to a period of childhood trauma. I didn’t understand it in the moment, but I now know I suffered from panic attacks during that stage of my life. But as a 17-year-old teenager, I didn’t say anything. I was clueless about what was happening with my body. It would start with a feeling of heart palpitations. Then, I felt a painful “electric shock” within those palpitations. It would travel down from my heart to my stomach. When the “electric shock” hit my stomach, I would then have immediate feelings of vomiting. Yet, I never did. The frequency and duration of these panic attacks (amongst my childhood trauma years) apparently had a toll on my heart. I talked about it with my therapist. Then, I talked about it with my doctor. And my doctor confirmed that the frequency and duration of my panic attacks during those years could have indirectly caused my current heart failure.
Oddly enough, there was part of me that felt relieved. Why? Because this was proof. It was proof of my struggle with mental illness. It wasn’t just “in my head.” It was now physical. It was concrete. It was real.
I consider the blessings amongst my curses. Yes, I have heart failure at the age of 34. But it’s an opportunity to show that mental health (and any of life’s struggles that a person may have) is real. You don’t need to ask others to validate the truth. You can validate it yourself. That’s called “self-validation,” and that’s a powerful strength to have. It’s an ability we all have within ourselves. With all this said, I had an odd yet funny thought about this full dilemma. I have been told over the years that my struggles are “made up “ I’ve been told my struggles with BPD and C-PTSD are “only in my head.” But with that said, I can give a snarky remark:
Yes, it’s in my head. But it’s also in my heart.