Have you ever left a doctor’s office feeling worse than when you walked in?
Not physically worse. I mean emotionally smaller. Embarrassed. Confused. Like maybe you were being dramatic. Like maybe the pain you knew was real somehow needed to be proven before it mattered.
I’ve left the offices of countless trusted medical professionals second-guessing what my body was clearly trying to tell me.
And if you’re a woman, a person living with Lyme disease, or someone navigating chronic illness, there’s a good chance some part of this story will feel familiar.
Medical gaslighting is often described as what happens when a patient’s symptoms are minimized or attributed to any combination of stress, hormones, or mental health without appropriate evaluation. Harvard Health notes that this kind of invalidation can contribute to delayed treatment and eventual mistrust in the healthcare system.
Cruelty isn’t often at the root of medical gaslighting. Sometimes it begins quietly, when a provider feels uncertain, relying too heavily on a “normal” test result and assuming symptoms must be psychological when a cause isn’t immediately clear.
But even when the dismissal is unintentional, the harm is real. Patients leave feeling less confident in their ability to trust their own bodies.
This is what it felt like for me.
1. “Normal” Tests, Real Pain
My first symptoms of Lyme disease began in November 2012.
I ended up in the emergency room on Thanksgiving, desperate for answers to a debilitating headache. The pain was so severe it felt like my brain was pushing its way through my skull.
The ER doctor performed a spinal tap and a CT scan. I was told everything looked normal. They gave me pain and anti-nausea medication, then sent me home.
For a few hours, I felt relief.
Then the medicine wore off, and the pain came roaring back.
At the time, I was teaching fourth grade. The mother of one of my students was a neurologist. I disregarded all professionalism as I found her number and called her at home, begging her to help me.
She called the hospital and had me admitted.
I remember feeling relieved. Someone is taking this seriously. I’m going to get answers. I’m going to get better. Finally.
But at the hospital, the same pattern continued. Another CT scan. An MRI. Doctors citing another “normal” result.
The problem was that I could barely lift my head. I knew something was wrong in my body, even if the scans weren’t showing it.
I learned that a normal test result doesn’t always equate to a healthy patient. Sometimes it only means the right questions have yet to be asked.
2. Pain Reframed as Depression
Instead of answers, I was given migraine and pain medication while we waited for bloodwork.
Then one morning, another doctor came into my room and said, “These things happen. You should try an antidepressant.”
I was stunned.
An antidepressant?
It wasn’t depression that had dragged me to the ER. I was lying in a hospital bed, physically crippled by pain, unable to function.
And somehow, the conversation had shifted from “Why is this happening?” to “Why aren’t you happy?”
While depression and stress can manifest physically, using mental health as a shortcut explanation without fully investigating physical symptoms was deeply harmful.
It denied the reality of my pain unless someone else was able to confirm it for me.
3. Lyme Dismissed Too Soon
I was assured that I had received a full blood workup looking for autoimmune diseases and other chronic illnesses. I was also assured it wasn’t Lyme disease.
“It’s too rare,” the doctor said, though my tests had yet to be processed.
The next day, I was discharged with a diagnosis of “New Daily Persistent Headache Syndrome.” It was a formal way of saying: We don’t understand your headaches, they may keep hurting, and we don’t know how to help you.
Later that day, the hospital called.
My Lyme disease test had come back positive.
I needed to see an infectious diseases doctor.
I was terrified, but also relieved. Finally, there was an answer. Finally, there was something to treat. I could get my life back.
Lyme disease is caused by Borrelia bacteria and spread through the bite of infected blacklegged ticks. Untreated Lyme disease can cause a wide range of symptoms, from fever and rash, to nerve pain and inflammation of the brain and spinal cord.
That matters because Lyme disease doesn’t always look simple, not always presenting as a neat bullseye rash. It’s medically real, physically devastating, and difficult to navigate. A patient’s suffering shouldn’t be dismissed just because the situation is complicated.
4. Chest Pain Called Anxiety
My symptoms worsened even after seven days of antibiotics and dismissals from my primary care and infectious diseases doctors.
“It’s not a big deal,” one said. “You probably don’t have Lyme disease.”
“If you did, you’d be better by now,” another said.
Meanwhile, the joints throughout my body had begun to ache. My heart palpitations had become unpredictable. Sharp chest pains brought moments where it felt almost impossible to breathe.
I was embarrassed to return to the hospital, so I drove to a new one.
A nurse practitioner came in, poked my chest with her finger, and told me I was too young to have heart problems. I was 29.
“Your EKG is fine,” she said. So I was fine.
“I am scared,” I told her, and she offered to send in a social worker.
One of the cruelest consequences of medical gaslighting is that it teaches people to feel ashamed for seeking help.
And yet, women’s symptoms, particularly pain and cardiac symptoms, have a long history of being taken less seriously. Yale School of Medicine has highlighted research showing that women with chest pain waited nearly 11 minutes longer than men to be seen in emergency rooms and were less likely to be admitted or kept under observation.
Sometimes fear is a reasonable response to terrifying physical symptoms.
5. Medical Symptoms, Psychiatric Blame
I began seeking out university hospitals after developing progressively intensifying symptoms. Severe insomnia. Vision blurring. Noise sensitivity. Numbness.
The sleeping pills had begun to cause hallucinations, so I was given Klonopin, Zoloft, and Seroquel.
“Don’t read the insert packets. Just swallow them,” said my primary care doctor. “You need to go back to work.”
I did read them but took it anyway even as my symptoms worsened.
As my cardiac symptoms intensified, I found myself on my final ER trip, hooked up to heart monitors.
The infectious diseases doctor reprimanded me, “You’re fine. Your heart is fine. I don’t know why your test was positive. You need serious mental professional help.”
I wondered if he was right.
Medical gaslighting can make patients question their own reality. Rutgers Health researchers recently described this broader pattern as “symptom invalidation,” noting that it can lead to self-doubt, avoidance of medical care, and trauma-like responses.
When you’re already sick, that kind of emotional harm feels unbearable.
6. Somatoform Disorder
Therapy seemed like the next logical option.
I divulged the entire story to a woman I didn’t know, like reaching out a hand hoping someone would grab hold.
She suggested I had Somatoform Disorder and should enter an inpatient treatment program, a diagnosis that points to outsized emotional distress despite less severe physical symptoms.
That final dismissal was the shift I needed.
Eventually, I found doctors and medical professionals who listened. They didn’t all have the same answers, nor were there overnight cures. But they believed that my symptoms mattered, and that changed everything.
Because so many women and people with Lyme disease carry not only the burden of illness, but also the burden of having to prove that their illness is real.
I also found a support network of people who had been through similar experiences. People who understood the fear, the confusion, the grief, and the anger. People who knew what it felt like to be dismissed when your body was screaming for help.
For the first time, I didn’t feel alone.
What medical gaslighting can sound like
Medical gaslighting isn’t always obvious in the moment. Sometimes it sounds calm.
“You’re too young.”
“Your tests are normal.”
“It’s just anxiety.”
“Stop looking things up.”
But a reassuring doctor says, “I don’t see evidence of an emergency today, but I believe your symptoms are real, and we need a plan.”
A dismissive doctor says, “Nothing is wrong with you.”
How to advocate for yourself when you feel dismissed
The burden shouldn’t fall on sick people to fight for basic care. But self-advocacy can be protective. Here are a few ways to prepare:
- Bring a written timeline of symptoms, including when they started, what changed, and what makes them better or worse.
- Track objective details when possible: temperature, heart rate, rashes, photos, test results, medications, and functional changes.
- Bring someone with you who can take notes, help you remember details, and serve as a witness.
- Ask direct questions, such as: “What conditions are you ruling out?” “What would make this urgent?” “What is the follow-up plan?”
- Ask for documentation: “Can you please note in my chart that I reported these symptoms and requested further evaluation?”
- Seek a second opinion when something doesn’t feel right.
Harvard Health similarly recommends bringing a support person who can help take notes and observe the interaction.
To the woman who knows something is wrong
If you’re reading this while lying in bed, exhausted, scared, and wondering whether you’re being dramatic, I want you to hear a similar voice.
You know your body.
That doesn’t mean you will always know the diagnosis. But it does mean your symptoms deserve to be taken seriously.
You deserve a provider who can say, “I do not know yet, but I believe you.”
And sometimes the most important sentence you can say is, “I know my body, and I need you to keep looking.”
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