Liam Virgo is a disability advocate who developed a severe neurological condition at 13, dramatically altering his teenage years. Through lived experience of paralysis, misdiagnosis and recovery, Liam now shares his story to challenge stigma around Functional Neurological Disorder (FND) and highlight the realities of becoming disabled as a teenager today.
What it means to become disabled as a teenager
When I was 13 years old, I developed a life-changing severe disability. I would like to shine a light on the realities of what life is like when you develop a disability as a teenager.
Developing a severe disability in your early teens is a unique kind of trauma. At an age where you are supposed to be finding your identity and gaining autonomy, I was forced into total dependency. I required 24-hour care for the most basic human needs.
While my peers were navigating exams, first dates, and the freedom of high school, I was battling a condition that many doctors at the time didn’t even fully understand. The hardest part of developing a disability as a teenager wasn’t just the physical loss; it was the isolation. While others were finishing school, I was relearning how to sit up and move my arms. At times, I faced misunderstanding around my symptoms, and some people thought “it’s all in his head” and “it’s a mental health issue”.
The hardest part isn’t always the physical pain; it’s the isolation. People don’t know what to say to a “paralysed” teenager whose tests say nothing is wrong. There is a stigma that if it’s “functional,” it’s somehow in your head. Let me tell you: there is nothing “imaginary” about the years I spent bed-bound and unable to speak or move.
Going from someone who is non disabled to becoming severely disabled is a life-changing experience.
Imagine being a healthy 13-year-old one day, and the next, your brain and body simply “stop talking” to each other. In 2016, that was my reality. I had to leave school due to my deteriorating illness, as they couldn’t look after me, I had to be physically held up by two members of staff, as I could barely walk. At the time, I didn’t know what was happening as my brain and body were slowly shutting down on me. Things dramatically changed as, within a few days, I lost my ability to walk and talk. I was rushed to hospital, where doctors were baffled; my scans came back “normal,” yet I was suddenly disabled.
For three years, I was bedridden and required 24-hour care. I felt like a prisoner inside my own body—trapped and locked inside my mind and body. For six months, my mind went blank, and I didn’t know who or what anything was. I also lost my ability to communicate for a year. This was all down to the invisible weight of Functional Neurological Disorder (FND), often described like a computer software crash: the hardware (the nerves and muscles) is fine, but the “code” failing means the signals don’t get through. It’s a condition which affects how the brain receives and sends information to the rest of the body.
My illness stole my ability to walk when I was aged between 13 and 18, so for five years I was paralysed. Becoming severely disabled as a teenager resulted in me suffering from other issues such as difficult feelings, anxiety and other mental health problems. CAMHS (Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services) were involved too.
Reclaiming my voice after FND
Navigating my teen years with a disability was extremely challenging, but there were glimmers of hope when my condition started to improve. During my days of battling severe FND, I found comfort in a few things, one of them being London. When I was well enough, I managed to achieve my dream of visiting the capital. It’s my favourite special place and one day I hope to live in London.
I went from being a healthy teen to being trapped in my own body, and now I’m reclaiming my life, one step and one word at a time. I lost my mobility, freedom and identity to this life-changing illness, but one thing my FND hasn’t taken from me is my determination. In recent years, I’ve been determined not to let my illness hold me back from doing what I want.
Post-severe FND, I’m now in a place where I can use my voice to speak out about the illness.
Becoming disabled as a teenager is difficult to say the least, but you can find a way forward. I’m now using my voice, the voice that FND stole from me, to raise awareness.
I’m pleased to say that in recent years I’ve made huge progress and I’m able to stand again and can walk with support.
I’ve been disabled throughout all of my teenage years, but I’m learning to live with my new normal.
I can’t remember the world as I used to know it before FND, as life before it is a blur, but I now see the world differently through the lens of a wheelchair user. Just sitting in a wheelchair is a big achievement for me, as I couldn’t tolerate sitting in anything before.
At 13, I lost my mind and body to this illness, but 10 years on, I’m making an impact and sharing my story in my own words.
Follow Liam Virgo on Instagram @liamloveslondon.