When the World Spins: Navigating Life with Vertigo

 

I woke up this morning to a familiar but unsettling sensation—the world tilting beneath me, my head swimming, my stomach lurching.

Vertigo.

Again.

If you’ve ever experienced vertigo, you know how disorienting and scary it can be. The simplest movements—rolling over in bed, standing up, turning your head too fast—send your body into a spiral of dizziness, making even the most basic tasks feel impossible. It’s like being trapped on a ride you never wanted to get on, unable to steady yourself, no matter how much you try.

And then there’s the nausea. Ugh… 😩

For me, vertigo is more than just an occasional inconvenience. It’s tied to a deeper fear, one rooted in watching my mom battle years of crippling vertigo due to Meniere’s disease. She still struggles with it to this day, and I’ve seen firsthand how it impacts her—how it can steal her independence and turn even the most routine days into unpredictable challenges. I remember how helpless she feels in those moments, and how helpless I feel watching her. And now, when I have my own bouts with vertigo, that fear creeps in—the worry that it won’t just be a passing episode, that it could take over my life the way it has taken over so many of her days.

But here’s the thing: I don’t have the option to stay in bed all day, no matter how much I may want to. As a mom and caregiver, life doesn’t pause just because my world is spinning. The dishes still pile up, the kids still need to eat, the laundry still needs folding. Even on vertigo days, I have to find a way to keep going.

So, I slow down. I adjust. I make vertigo days softer.

The chores still get done, but at a different pace. I sit down more. I take breaks when I need to. I give myself permission to let some things wait. My kids understand when I say it’s a “TV day,” when we curl up on the couch with blankets and snacks, embracing the kind of slow, cozy day that doesn’t require me to be on my feet too much. Or if it’s too bad, I may need to slip away to lay down for a nap. 

I take care of myself. Because if there’s anything I’ve learned—both from my own experience and from watching my mom—it’s that self-care isn’t selfish. It’s necessary.

On vertigo days, that might look like drinking extra water, lying down in a dark room for a bit, or simply being gentle with myself. I remind myself that this will pass, that my body needs rest just as much as it needs movement. And when the world finally stops spinning, I ease back into my routine, grateful for the simple ability to stand, walk, and move without the ground shifting beneath me.

Living with vertigo is scary. It’s unpredictable. But I’ve learned that just like everything else in life, I can navigate it—even if that means slowing down and holding on a little tighter until the dizziness fades.

If you’ve ever dealt with vertigo, I see you. I know how unsettling it is. And if today happens to be one of those days where the world won’t stop spinning, I hope you give yourself the same grace I’m learning to give myself. Take it slow. Rest when you need to. And know that you’re not alone.

Have you ever experienced vertigo? How do you manage it when life still has to keep going? Let’s talk in the comments. 💛