This is the exact book that inspired me to start writing this blog. My GP recommended it to me, and I cannot thank her enough for the suggestion. Tilly’s story is deeply moving as she navigates the NHS healthcare system while living with a rare, mysterious condition.

Reading about her twenty-year journey and how she learned to advocate for herself completely changed my perspective. Her words reminded me that even when our health leaves us feeling completely shattered, sharing our experiences is a powerful way to turn pain into purpose. Her resilience gave me the exact push I needed to step out of my comfort zone and start documenting my own recovery.

Recommended by my friend Louise, Miranda Hart’s memoir provided a source of light during the darkest days of my recovery. In her book, she shares her ten-year battle with severe chronic illness.

A moment that deeply resonated with me was when she discovered a doctor had written “TATT” – medical shorthand for “Tired All The Time” – at the top of her medical notes. It was a heartbreaking example of medical gaslighting, dismissing her severe, undiagnosed Lyme disease as ordinary tiredness.

Miranda has taught me that even when your body is breaking, your spirit can still thrive.

While Tilly and Miranda provided the emotional framework for surviving chronic illness, Dr Beh’s book provided the science and medical answers I desperately needed. Dealing with Vestibular Migraine and PPPD alongside Post-Concussion Syndrome meant my world was constantly spinning, rocking, and completely off-balance.

Recommended by a friend who is also struggling with PCS and VM, this book was a major turning point in my education about my dizziness. Reading his work validated that my “out-of-body” sensations and those weird dizzy sensations weren’t just in my head; they are part of a recognised neurological condition.

This book also gave me the language to use at medical appointments and the tools to actively take charge of my vestibular rehab, creating a path to reclaim my life.

Living with Post-Concussion Syndrome (PCS) brought a constant internal conflict about rest. For months, I was haunted by the feeling that I wasn’t doing enough, working enough, or recovering ‘fast enough.’ Society made me feel that rest was laziness, and I carried that guilt every day.

This book completely reframed my perspective. Tricia Hersey argues that rest is not a luxury or a reward, but a divine birthright and a form of radical resistance against a society that demands that our bodies behave like machines.

Reading her words gave me ‘permission’ to view rest as a sacred space where I can heal and repair. She taught me that resting is the ultimate act of reclaiming my health, my body, my mind, and my power.

Recommended by my psychologist, this book investigates the data bias and the way science treats men as the human default.

Reading it was infuriating yet deeply validating. I learned that medical textbooks default to male anatomy, women are underrepresented in trials, and women actually suffer more severely from concussions.

The book even exposes how car seatbelts are designed purely for male bodies, revealing that crash tests have historically used only male-proportioned dummies. Having survived a car accident where the seatbelt saved my life but violently jolted my brain and neck, provoking my brain injury, this hit incredibly close to home.

Invisible Women made me realise that I am not the problem, despite what some doctors suggested. I’m simply trying to heal within a medical system that wasn’t designed for a woman’s body.