When Life, and Your Health, Changes Without Warning
About a year and a half ago, I was diagnosed with Primary Progressive Multiple Sclerosis.
That’s not a sentence I ever thought I’d write, let alone share publicly. I’m not a therapist—I work behind the scenes at Freesia Therapy Collective, helping people get connected with the right support and making sure our practice runs smoothly. But lately, the personal and professional have started to blur in unexpected ways.
For those who don’t know, Primary Progressive MS (or PPMS) is a neurological condition where symptoms gradually get worse over time. There are no “remissions,” no clear flares—it just… progresses. Slowly, steadily, and insidiously. PPMS makes up only 15% of all MS cases that are diagnosed, so it’s the “bad” kind.
When I first heard the words, it actually felt like kind of a relief. I’d had various unexplained symptoms for many years, nothing debilitating – just annoying. A weird numb sensation in my thumb, restless legs at night, times when I have to pee every 10 minutes. When I got the diagnosis, I had an answer to all of my “problems.” I was consolidating! I was streamlining. I’m someone who likes to plan. I’ve spent most of my career building systems, designing websites, and helping organizations simplify their operations. I like structure. Strategy. Control.
Then came the reality that I was replacing all my little problems with one very big problem. MS doesn’t care about strategy or calendars. It doesn’t care about your plans. Now comes the really hard task – letting go of control. And if I’m being honest, I’m still figuring that part out.
There are good days and hard ones. Some mornings I wake up and feel almost normal. Other days, I can feel my body reminding me that it’s changed—and still changing. It’s not just physical. The emotional toll sneaks up on you. I’ve started to understand, in a real and raw way, what health anxiety feels like. That constant scanning of your body. Wondering if a new sensation means something. Googling things you probably shouldn’t Google.
I hear from clients frequently who are reaching out because something in their life has shifted—grief, trauma, a diagnosis, the unraveling of something they thought was solid. I’ve always admired their bravery. Now, I understand it in a much more personal way.
Living with a chronic illness is a lot of things—frustrating, exhausting, humbling. It’s also clarifying. You start to pay closer attention to what matters. You learn how to slow down. You begin to see strength in places you never looked before.
If you’re someone dealing with health anxiety, or facing your own version of a life-changing diagnosis, I just want to say this: you’re not alone. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. It’s okay to grieve the version of life you thought you’d have. And it’s absolutely okay to ask for help.
I had 25 years of martial arts before my diagnosis, and my wife and I have a 2 year old daughter. I had a lot of expectations about the kind of dad that I was going to be, and what I was going to teach her. My own therapist has been terrific in helping me process this development in my life, and realize that ultimately all my daughter really needs is for me to SHOW UP, and just be present with her.
Therapy isn’t about “fixing” anything. It’s about having space to be honest, to feel what you’re feeling, and to figure out how to live with the hard stuff. That’s what I’ve started to learn through this process. That it’s not about going back to how things were—it’s about figuring out who you are now, and what kind of life you want to build going forward.
At Freesia, we have therapists who understand what it’s like to live in a body that feels uncertain. Who can help you carry the weight of all the unknowns. If you’re ready to talk, we’re here.
And if you’re just trying to make it through the day right now, that’s okay too. Be gentle with yourself. This is hard. And you don’t have to do it alone.