PNES: The Silent Fight — And Why We Can’t Look Away Anymore Written By a Wife Who Sees It All

Every day, I watch my husband fight a battle most people can’t see. A battle that doesn’t leave bruises or scars on the outside, but one that shatters routines, peace, and identity from the inside out.

He lives with PNES — Psychogenic Non-Epileptic Seizures — a condition that too few people understand and even fewer talk about. It mimics epilepsy with sudden, uncontrollable episodes that can involve convulsions, fainting, or staring spells. But unlike epilepsy, these seizures are not caused by electrical disturbances in the brain. Instead, PNES is rooted in psychological trauma or stress — often deeply buried, often carried silently for years.

And the truth? It’s devastating. Not just for him, but for both of us.

I've held him as his body trembled uncontrollably. I’ve sat through moments where he’s lost awareness, only to return confused, exhausted, and ashamed. I've seen the toll it takes — not only physically, but emotionally. The fear. The guilt. The isolation. He didn’t choose this. No one would.

And yet, because PNES isn’t widely known or discussed — even in many medical spaces — those who suffer are often dismissed, misdiagnosed, or told “it’s just in your head.” But let me be clear: this is real. It’s complex. It’s terrifying. And it deserves far more recognition than it gets.

Mental health-related conditions like PNES exist in this strange in-between where people either don't believe the pain is real or don’t know how to respond to it. And so, so many suffer in silence — without adequate care, without support, without understanding.

That’s why I’m writing this. Because we can’t afford to stay silent anymore.

We need to bring PNES into the light.

We need:

• More medical professionals trained to recognize and treat it.

• More research to better understand its causes and most effective treatments.

• More compassion from friends, family, and community.

• And most of all, more voices willing to say: this matters.

Because the people who live with PNES matter. My husband matters. And every time he opens his eyes after a seizure and looks for some anchor in this confusing world, I want to be able to say: You are seen. You are supported. You are not alone.

If you’ve never heard of PNES until now, please don’t turn away. Learn. Listen. Share. Be part of the movement that lifts this diagnosis out of the shadows and into a place of understanding and dignity.

To those walking this same path — whether you're the one living with PNES or the one loving someone through it — I see you. I stand with you. And I promise: you are not forgotten.

Let’s keep fighting for visibility.
For better care.
For them.

Because they deserve so much more than silence.