It happened without warning. A seizure, a collapse, chest pain that sent you to the ER; something your body did that frightened you and everyone who saw it.
Then came the tests. Scans, bloodwork, specialists. One by one, the reasonable explanations were ruled out, until what was left was inconclusive. No clear cause. Just a suggestion, spoken almost apologetically, that it might be stress.
Not a diagnosis. Not an answer. Just a shrug dressed up as one.
If that’s where you are, this is for you.
Why “inconclusive” can be harder than bad news
It sounds backwards, but a clear diagnosis, even a difficult one, gives you something to work with. There’s a name, a plan, a next step. Inconclusive gives you none of that. What it gives you instead is vigilance.
You start scanning your body in meetings. You notice every headache, every flutter, every moment of feeling off. You wonder whether you should be driving, traveling, or pushing through the next deadline. You’re waiting for a next time you can’t predict, can’t prepare for, and can’t rule out.
And “probably stress” can land in a strange way. Part of you may feel relieved. Another part may feel dismissed, as if something this frightening got filed under a word that sounds like it should be fixable with a vacation.
Both reactions make sense. Neither one means you’re overreacting.
Your team still needed you to be fine
For leaders, there’s another layer that rarely gets named.
Maybe you went back the next day. Maybe you took leave and led anyway, through the texts, the decisions, and the check-ins that never actually stopped just because you were technically out. Either way, the team didn’t get smaller, and neither did what it needed from you.
So you managed it. You decided who to tell and how much. You kept your voice steady. You reassured other people about something no one could reassure you about.
Your body did something that should have stopped everything. And in every way that mattered to the people counting on you, it didn’t.
What therapy can and can’t do here
I want to be clear about my lane. I’m not a medical provider, and therapy isn’t a replacement for medical care. If your symptoms return or change, or your doctors recommend more testing, follow up. That matters.
It’s also worth knowing that “probably stress” isn’t always the final word. Sometimes further evaluation leads to a more specific answer. In some cases, neurologists identify what are called functional or nonepileptic seizures, which are real, involuntary, and treatable. That’s a conversation for your medical team, and it’s worth having.
What therapy can do is work with everything the medical system isn’t designed to hold: the fear, the vigilance, the pressure to keep performing, and the questions this experience has raised about how you’ve been living.
What this looks like in practice
I use Internal Family Systems (IFS), an approach that works with the different parts of you. After a health scare, those parts often show up clearly:
- The part that’s constantly on alert, watching your body for the next sign
- The part that kept leading through all of it, because someone had to
- The part that’s frustrated, or even angry, that there’s no real answer
- The part that quietly wonders whether this was your body telling you something you’ve been ignoring for years
None of these parts are the problem. Each one is trying to protect you in its own way. The vigilant part is trying to keep you safe. The part that kept leading is trying to hold everything together. In our work, we get to know them, understand what they’re carrying, and help them ease up enough that you’re not running on alarm all the time.
Many of my clients in this situation choose an IFS therapy intensive, a concentrated block of time rather than weekly sessions because weekly therapy can feel too slow when something this big has just happened.
Responsible for everyone, including the part of you that collapsed
High functioning people are often the last to take their own experience seriously. You’re used to being the one who handles it. Being on the other side of that, where your own body needed attention, can feel disorienting in a way that’s hard to explain to anyone around you.
This doesn’t make you fragile. It makes you someone whose body did something undeniable, in a role that has never once made room for that.
You deserve room for it now.
Frequently asked questions
Can stress really cause a seizure or other physical symptoms?
Stress can affect the body in real, physical ways, and doctors sometimes conclude that stress played a role when no other cause is found. Only your medical team can evaluate what happened in your case. Therapy can help with the stress, fear, and vigilance that often follow, whatever the medical answer turns out to be.
Should I keep seeing my doctors if I start therapy?
Yes. Therapy works alongside medical care, not instead of it. If your symptoms return or change, contact your doctor.
Is it normal to feel anxious about my body after a health scare?
Very. Watching for signs, avoiding certain activities, or feeling on edge is a common response after something frightening and unexplained. It’s also something therapy can help with directly.
I’m back at work and functioning. Do I really need therapy?
Functioning and being okay aren’t the same thing. If you’re managing well on the outside but carrying fear, exhaustion, or unanswered questions on the inside, that’s worth attention.
Kiara Hartwell Opara, LCPC, LPC, NCC, is a Certified IFS Therapist working with executives and leaders navigating unexplained health scares in Maryland and Virginia. Kiara offers virtual and in person IFS Therapy Intensives (single day to multi-day) in Baltimore, MD.
Learn more about therapy for executives and leaders after an unexplained health scare →
