When Chloe-Marie Gallagher initially began experiencing illness, she had absolutely no inkling that her existence was on the brink of transformation. The 33-year-old mother from Rotherham was balancing her career, raising children and managing daily responsibilities when peculiar symptoms started emerging - symptoms that left medical professionals baffled.
"I just knew something wasn't right," Chloe recalls. "But every time I went to A&E, I was told my tests were normal and sent home."
In the early months of 2025, Chloe's wellbeing started deteriorating in a gradual and perplexing manner. The ordeal commenced with agonising kidney discomfort that had no obvious explanation.
The agony was sufficiently severe to warrant multiple hospital visits, yet medical staff were unable to identify any abnormalities. Subsequently, she experienced episodes of losing consciousness, feelings of light-headedness and overwhelming tiredness that rest failed to remedy.
"I had light sensitivity, brain fog so bad I couldn't think straight, and fatigue that wiped me out," she recalls. "I started repeating words and phrases without meaning. At the time, I didn't realise all these things were connected."
Chloe had been employed as a beautician, a practical profession she was passionate about. However, as her condition deteriorated, maintaining focus grew increasingly difficult. Then arrived internal shaking sensations, muscular frailty and alterations to her verbal communication that left her alarmed.
"Looking back, my body was trying to tell me something was seriously wrong," she reflects. "I just didn't have a diagnosis or a name for it."
Everything shifted when Chloe was urgently admitted to hospital presenting stroke-like manifestations. What unfolded next was absolutely petrifying.
"I suddenly became paralysed down my right side," she recalls. "My hand and foot turned blue and swollen. I was confused and couldn't speak. It was like my body just shut down."
Chloe was taken into hospital and assessed by a neurologist three days afterwards. Following clinical examinations, she received a diagnosis of Functional Neurological Disorder, or FND - a condition she'd never previously encountered.
"In that moment, everything made sense and nothing made sense at the same time," she reflects. "I finally had answers, but I also realised my life had changed forever."
Now, Chloe contends with an extensive range of symptoms that fluctuate daily and sometimes even hourly. She suffers from tremors, particularly when overstimulated or attempting to focus.
Her ability to speak varies unpredictably. She may stutter, battle to locate words, or lose her voice entirely for periods ranging from minutes to hours.
"I'm currently relearning how to walk," she explains. "I use a frame and a wheelchair, depending on the day. Mornings are the worst because my muscles cramp and spasm overnight. The pain can be unbearable."
She also endures non-epileptic seizures which drain her completely. "If I have one, that's usually me done for the day," she says. "Every symptom is unpredictable and that's one of the hardest parts of FND."
As a mother to three children, the consequences have been enormous. Chloe's eldest son is 11 and autistic, whilst she also has a seven-year-old son and a four-year-old daughter.
"Being their mum is my greatest motivation," she reveals. "Even on my hardest days, they're the reason I keep going."
Difficult days take a serious toll. "If I've had little or no sleep, I wake up feeling like I've been hit by a brick," Chloe describes.
"My muscles are painfully tight, I can't stand even with aids and I need constant care. Communication becomes overwhelming and everything feels amplified. Some days I spend the entire day in bed."
Better days offer a stark contrast, though they aren't without challenges. "A good day means manageable," she notes.
"Less pain, more movement, being able to use my aids and spend time with my family. Those days remind me that progress doesn't have to be fast to be real."
While awareness has increased online, FND continues to be largely misunderstood – something Chloe is determined to address.
"The biggest misconception is that because there's no structural damage to the brain, it isn't real," she states. "That couldn't be further from the truth.
"FND is not 'all in our heads'. It's an involuntary neurological condition where the brain and body stop communicating properly. It's terrifying when it happens. We don't choose this. We don't control it."
Her daily routine now centres around pacing herself and paying attention to her body's signals. "I use mobility aids, avoid triggers like exhaustion and overstimulation, and stick to routines that help regulate my nervous system," Chloe explains.
"I rest when I need to without guilt. That took time to learn."
She has had to give up her career as a beautician, as her condition renders treatments impossible. "Losing my career was heartbreaking," she acknowledges.
"It affected my independence and my confidence. Learning to accept help has been one of the hardest lessons."
What drives her forward is a sense of purpose. "I refuse to let FND define me," she says.
"Being a mum, advocating for awareness, and knowing that my voice could help someone else. That's what keeps me going."
Chloe has built a substantial and supportive following by documenting her journey on TikTok, where she has garnered 1.7 million likes. Through her videos, she chronicles the reality of living with FND, capturing both the difficult days and the more hopeful moments. Chloe also serves as a director of FND Together We Rise CIC, an organisation established to ensure individuals living with Functional Neurological Disorder receive visibility and support.
"Too many people with FND face delayed diagnosis, dismissal and stigma," she explains. "Our mission is to raise awareness, build community, and push for better understanding and care not just for patients, but for their families too."
Chloe chose to become an advocate after witnessing firsthand how isolating the condition can be. "FND can be frightening and life-altering, yet it's still so misunderstood," she notes.
"Advocacy felt necessary. I wanted to help create a future where people with FND are met with compassion and belief, not disbelief."
She attributes her survival through the darkest times to her family. "My biggest supporters are my family, especially my children, my mum, my partner, my baby sister and my grandparents," she shares. "They believe in me even when I struggle to believe in myself."
Now, Chloe is resolute that her diagnosis will not mute her. "FND may have changed my life, but it hasn't taken my voice," she says. "If sharing my story helps even one person feel seen, believed or understood, then it's worth it."
