Walking Through the Unseen Storm

Some journeys are visible. Some journeys are quiet, private, and almost impossible to explain to anyone who hasn’t walked them themselves. Walking through life with Tim’s PNES is one of those journeys. It is a path marked by sudden shifts, moments of fear, and profound vulnerability—moments that feel like walking through a storm without warning or guide.

PNES, or Psychogenic Non-Epileptic Seizures, is not widely understood. Watching Tim experience one can feel helpless, confusing, and heartbreaking. There is no warning, no predictability, and no simple fix. Yet here we are, day after day, navigating the unknown, learning to hold steady when the ground beneath us shakes.

Love becomes both anchor and compass in this journey. Holding his hand, staying present, and witnessing what no one else may fully understand is a testament to devotion. It is raw, it is difficult, it is intimate, and it is holy in a way I could never have anticipated. The tears, the fear, the exhaustion—they are part of the story, yes. But so is the steadfast presence, the whispered prayers, the moments of calm, the small victories, and the profound reminder that love persists even in the chaos.

I want to share this not for pity or sympathy, but for awareness and understanding. PNES is a real condition. Its weight is heavy. And yet, it is not the whole of us. Tim is brilliant, kind, strong, and full of life outside of these seizures. And together, we are learning that resilience is built in the quiet, patient moments—after the episode, in the recovery, in the care and love that never wavers.

Sharing a video of one of Tim’s seizures is difficult, but it matters. It is a reminder that what we cannot see on the outside—the neurological and psychological struggle—is real, and it deserves empathy, respect, and understanding. It is a call to see beyond the surface, to recognize the courage it takes to live fully in spite of illness, and to honor those walking similar paths in silence.

This journey has changed me. It has stretched my patience, deepened my faith, and forced me to confront my own fears in ways I never imagined. It has taught me that love is not only in the happy, calm moments but in showing up for someone when life feels unmanageable. It has taught me that presence, even when powerless to “fix” things, is a radical act of devotion.

To anyone who sees this and is struggling with a loved one’s invisible illness, or your own unseen battles: you are not alone. The weight may feel unbearable at times, but showing up—truly showing up—is what carries us forward. In the fear, in the confusion, in the tear-filled nights and quiet victories, love persists. Grace persists. Faith persists. And together, we walk forward, step by step, heartbeat by heartbeat.

This journey is not easy. It is raw, it is real, and it is profoundly human. But it is also a journey of hope, endurance, and unwavering love. It is a journey that teaches patience, humility, and the quiet strength that comes from walking through the storm hand in hand with someone you would never abandon.

Tim’s PNES does not define him. Our life together does not end in these episodes. And every day, we are learning that courage, love, and faith are not about the absence of struggle—they are about how we meet it.