The Neurofeedback Therapy That Gave Me My Life Back

In February of 2021, I was in an accident that changed the trajectory of everything.

And it’s not even that dramatic of a story.

I went sledding.

One big icy hill in the national forest. One wildly inadequate sled. Too much speed. A badly placed jump. And then that slow-motion moment where your body knows—before your mind catches up—that this is going to hurt.

I remember seeing the ground get farther away. I remember the impact.

My tailbone hit first. I felt bones shift, something like bubble wrap popping up my spine. Then gravity finished the job and slammed the back of my head into solid ice.

Lights out.

The worst part? No one saw it happen. Not one person. No one to say “wow, that looked bad” or “are you okay?” Just silence and pain.

At the time, I didn’t have health insurance. My dad’s 65th birthday celebration was four days away. Family was flying in. I was hosting. Everything was planned.

So, I did what many of us do when life doesn’t leave room for collapse.

I went home. I drank a few beers. I told myself I was fine.

In the moments after the accident, the pain was unlike anything I’d felt before. Standing felt better than sitting, but it was as if my diaphragm had forgotten how to work. Tears leaked from my eyes without the sensation of crying—one of those quiet signs that your body has taken a serious hit.

And then… life moved on.

The months passed. I became very familiar with my donut pillow. Sitting without it was impossible—for months that quietly turned into years. Everything else seemed to heal, so I chalked it up to another war story. Another thing to carry.

What I didn’t know was that something had lodged itself beneath the surface—something far more insidious than a sore tailbone.

When Your Body Starts Failing Quietly

Fast forward several years.

I felt like I was in a full-blown autoimmune flare. Having worked in immunology, I knew something was off—but I did what I’d always done.

I ignored it.

My vision changed. The eye doctor said I had developed an astigmatism. Odd, but okay. My thyroid antibodies were sky-high—no medication needed, but concerning. I gained weight rapidly. Overnight-fast. I blamed stress. Drinking. Depression.

Then came the dizziness. The brain fog. The inability to focus and remember things.

Eventually, I stopped driving. I didn’t trust myself behind the wheel.

Some days my feet and ankles were so swollen I barely recognized them. Michelin-man swollen. My nervous system felt like it was constantly misfiring.

I called my therapist in crisis mode.

At some point, I told her, “Mentally, it's like my brain feels like an old car stuck in neutral. I can’t switch gears.”

She paused.

And then she asked a question that changed everything:

“Have you ever had a traumatic brain injury?”

“No,” I said automatically.

Then—“Oh. Wait. Yes. That one.”

Five years earlier. The sledding accident.

That was the moment I was introduced to LENS Neurofeedback therapy.

Seeing My Brain for the First Time

I learned that untreated concussions can lead to post-concussion syndrome—and that women, especially those with a history of long-term stress or trauma, are more susceptible. Damage from concussions can show up years after an injury making it hard to pinpoint what could be going on health wise. Who knew that a "bump on the head" could do so much damage? Especially years later.

When I went to a trusted LENS provider, they mapped my brain. What I saw was sobering.

There were clear trauma points. Areas of rigidity. And a core regulatory point at the base of my skull—responsible for fundamental metabolic and hormonal regulation—was barely functioning. Low frequency. Inflexible. As if a vital switch had been turned off and never turned back on.

My nervous system wasn’t broken.

It was stuck.

An Integrated Path to Healing

That realization changed everything.

After diving into as much research as I could, I decided on an integrated approach to healing—one that honored the fact that no single modality works in isolation.

• LENS Neurofeedback to restore brain flexibility

• Chiropractic care for nervous system alignment

• Acupuncture and massage for regulation and release

• Cognitive rehabilitation exercises, intentionally paced after intense workouts when neuroplasticity is highest

  
  

The cognitive work was humbling. Simple tasks. Directional awareness. Re-establishing pathways that most people take for granted.

This wasn’t about “fixing” myself.

It was about teaching my system how to function again.

As the LENS sessions progressed, something unexpected happened.

It wasn’t just my brain injury that released.

Decades of stored stress and trauma—from being a caregiver for over 30 years, from chronic responsibility, from living in survival mode—began to unwind.

For the first time, I felt what a regulated nervous system actually feels like. The pressure had lifted.

I remember being so shocked that I asked my LENS provider multiple times if this was how people just felt normally. Slowly, I learned to trust it.

Coming Back to Myself

I could self-regulate. My healthy coping mechanisms finally worked. My metabolism stabilized. The swelling disappeared.

I lost 50 pounds—not through force, but through balance.

I returned to hiking. To the mountains. To calm. To joy.

I learned, deeply, that trauma stored in the nervous system is one of many gateways to disease—and that healing doesn’t begin with control. It begins with safety and alignment.

I’m not a medical expert. I can only speak to my experience.

But I know this: when my system flares now, I recognize the signals. I know how to respond.

And when my brain feels off, I don’t push harder—I get a LENS tune-up.

A functioning brain makes everything else possible and taking care of your nervous system should always be a priority.

The Sacred Path Was Born Here

It was during this season of healing that The Sacred Path took shape.

Not as a concept—but as a lived truth.

I saw, with startling clarity, that healing

and/or our wellbeing is not something we think or talk our way into. It's something the mind, body, and spirit must arrive at together.

Not separate. Not hierarchical. A circle.

Had I not met the right therapist, or if I had not been self-aware enough to question what was happening… open enough to explore alternative healing… willing enough to listen to my body instead of overriding it—who knows where I’d be today.

I only knew one thing for certain: I couldn’t keep living imprisoned in a body that felt out of control.

The Sacred Path exists because healing must address the whole system.

This path isn’t about perfection.

It’s about coming home.

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Stacey is the creator of The Sacred Path, a spiritual and intuitive coaching practice devoted to helping people step into their highest aligned selves. With a background in leadership, intuitive work, and a lifelong journey of personal transformation, Stacey brings warmth, clarity, and a little bit of magic to everyone she walks alongside.