About the Journey

I'm Josie. I have UARS, PMDD, and a nervous system that spent years stuck in survival mode. I've had surgeries, tried countless treatments, and spent way too long being told nothing was wrong.

Now I'm documenting the recovery—the real one, not the Instagram-perfect version.

The Longer Version

For seven years, I lived in a fog. Bone-tired no matter how much I slept. Anxious without knowing why. Watching everyone else live their lives while I could barely get through a day.

Doctors ran tests. Everything came back "normal." I was told it was anxiety. Depression. Stress. That I just needed to relax, exercise more, think positive.

I wasn't fine. I had UARS—Upper Airway Resistance Syndrome—a sleep disorder that doesn't show up on standard tests. My airway was partially collapsing at night, triggering my nervous system into constant alert mode. I was never getting real rest.

Since then, I've had double jaw surgery, a procedure to fix a floppy epiglottis, and my tonsils removed. Some things helped. Some didn't. I'm still figuring it out.

But I'm better than I was. And I've learned things along the way that I wish someone had told me years ago.

Beyond the Health Stuff

When I'm not researching sleep disorders or trying to convince my nervous system that the world is safe, you'll find me:

• Walking my French bulldogs along the Donegal coast
• Lost in a book or deep in skincare research
• Listening to Townes Van Zandt, Van Morrison, or John Martyn on repeat
• Dreaming about Italy, planning trips I may or may not have energy for
• Wrapped in something cosy, preferably near the sea, ideally in sunshine

I love good music, quality clothes, psychology, and places that feel alive—London, Thailand, India, anywhere with warmth and character.

This page isn't just about illness. It's about reclaiming a life that got put on hold. The rest, and everything that comes with it.

Why I'm Sharing This

Because I needed to find someone like me when I was lost.

The UARS community is small. Information is scattered. Most content is clinical or from people selling surgery. I wanted something different—a real person, sharing a real journey, with honest talk about what helps and what doesn't.

If even one person reads this and feels less alone, less crazy, more hopeful—that's enough.

I'm not a doctor. I'm not cured. I'm just someone who's been through it, still going through it, and willing to share what I've learned.