Chronic Fatigue: When Illness Opens Our Eyes | by Audrey Vanesse | Aug, 2025

Four years ago, as an elementary school teacher, I was trapped in a frantic pace. Today, bedridden for a year and a half, I’m fighting chronic fatigue syndrome. Here’s what this ordeal has taught me.

I was that teacher who did everything at breakneck speed — constantly stressed, under insane pressure. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was partly the one choosing to impose this hell on myself. I was actually perpetuating the abuse I had experienced at a very young age.

I was always rushing through the school hallways, even when nothing was urgent. It felt ingrained in me: whatever you do, don’t waste time. No bathroom breaks. I had chosen the perfect school to fuel my self-abuse.

If I’d had more self-respect — if I hadn’t been trapped in self-abuse — I would have left that toxic environment much sooner.

My adrenaline rushes were constant. I think my cortisol level was permanently elevated.

Unfortunately, even though part of me was suffering, I wasn’t able to truly understand what was going on. We think we’ve understood, but actually we stay on the surface.

That’s when I became seriously ill. I’m now paying a steep price for how far I pushed myself. I couldn’t self-regulate.

It was the COVID vaccination that made me plunge into hell. It triggered chronic fatigue syndrome and chronic pain. As a pain specialist explained to me: the vaccine stimulates the immune system, and on a poor terrain, we don’t know how that system might react. That’s what happened to me.

I lost my health all at once, or almost. I’ve been bedridden for a year and a half, and nothing’s changing. My body no longer responds. I feel trapped in this body that’s failing me. My whole life has stopped.

I was — and still am — in medical limbo. I received neither help nor satisfactory answers from doctors.

Chronic fatigue syndrome is an invisible and poorly understood condition, both by doctors and the general public. It’s only recently started to be discussed, mainly through long COVID, which resembles it.

In the spring of 2023, I was suffering so much that I wondered what would become of me — whether I’d end up ending my life. I can still see myself crying at my new family doctor’s office. After half an hour during which I could only describe one hundredth of my symptoms, I heard myself being told that I needed an antidepressant.

Of course, when you suffer day and night, you’re depressed — but that wasn’t the answer I needed. As people often say: when someone is diagnosed with cancer, we don’t just tell them they need an antidepressant.

It reflects a profound lack of knowledge about the condition, along with prejudice and denial. These issues are widely known to patients who systematically encounter them. That’s why it’s so important to speak out and raise awareness about this disease — so that patients are no longer abandoned.

So I was alone, trapped and tortured in my own body. I had to find a way to relieve my pain at all costs.

I don’t remember exactly how, but I came across an excellent article by Bruno Mairet, a biochemist and micronutritionist whose work is very accessible. I found the article brilliant — it was about omega-3s.

I made an appointment with one of his collaborators, who recommended a product with about twenty fairly standard ingredients: a mix of vitamins, minerals, other nutrients and antioxidants.

After two months of taking it, my pain decreased. I chose to continue exploring this path.

This first improvement gave me hope and energy to continue my research. I’ve spent the past few years self-training in micronutrition — testing, adjusting. My background as a former teacher helps me: I analyze, I take notes, I experiment methodically.

I’m not cured — far from it. But I’ve found leads, relief, and an understanding of my body that traditional medicine hadn’t brought me.

And above all, I’ve learned one essential thing: sometimes, you have to become your own therapist.