Getting Real About Life After Botox Poisoning

I want to get real about what life after Botox poisoning can look and feel like for many of us. No sugar coating, no filter.

If you only know me virtually, you'd probably think I'm doing great. I'm writing books, running a support group, a website, and a podcast, and promoting a documentary. I talk loudly about what happened to us and why the world needs to pay attention.

But I never want my loud and strong voice to fool anyone. It doesn't mean that I don't also struggle with the aftereffects of poisoning that are probably familiar to many of you. This illness affects every part of our lives. Not just the physical symptoms, but also our mental health, our relationships, our children, our confidence… our ability to feel like the people we were before poisoning.

And often, the hardest parts of this illness are the ones nobody can see.

The anxiety, depression, and hopelessness that can send us on a psychiatric whirlwind through hell. The way our family, friends, and even partners sometimes look at us like we're insane. The exhaustion from having to justify our symptoms to a million doctors and complete strangers. The devastation of missing out on social events and time with our family while we cry ourselves to sleep. And (I hate admitting how much this one really affects me) the harrowing loss of physical features we once loved about ourselves (our thick hair, the fat in our faces, our toned muscles, etc.).

Within a few months of becoming ill, I decided to be very vocal online about my illness in order to raise awareness. I was not ok with the amount of gaslighting and ignorance I had witnessed in the medical field while trying to receive help for my symptoms.

I never could have imagined that this well-intentioned effort would bring even more stress into my life. Almost immediately after speaking out and writing books, I was lied about, mischaracterized, ridiculed, gaslit, and bullied by complete strangers online (something I quickly learned is extremely common for Botox victims who choose to be vocal about their story).

I later went through a divorce, which brought its own emotional fallout and very real financial strain. The physical and emotional stress of the past 20 months has been something my body never could have adequately prepared for.

Trying to navigate a new normal and rebuild a life while your nervous system is still healing is… a lot.

There are days when I feel strong. Determined. Clear about my mission and ready to take on the world.

And then there are days when I just feel plain exhausted.

Even though I've been lucky enough to recover from the worst of my symptoms, that doesn't mean this experience didn't change me forever. Healing is never a straight line, and recovery doesn't erase the emotional impact of what’s happened.

What I show publicly (my advocacy, books, podcast, and loudness) is only one part of the story.

Behind it is a human being who has cried more in the last 20 months than she has in her entire life. A human being who has gone to the darkest edges her mind is capable of. A human being who looks in the mirror and longs for a previous version of herself. A human being who wonders if she is failing her kids. A human being who has felt scared, overwhelmed, and exhausted, just like so many others living with this illness. A human being who would still give up just about anything to go back in time and cancel her tox appointment.

If you're in the thick of poisoning right now, or living with the aftermath years out, and you feel like your world has been turned upside down, please know this: you are never alone. Not even close.

Many of us are out here carrying our own invisible weight, every hour of every day.

The bittersweet reality for me is this: my life changed on July 9, 2024. Some things will never go back to the way they were before. There is a “before Xeomin” Megan, and there is the Megan I am now.

But I am still here. I'm still healing and adapting. And yes, while I am still grieving many things, I am forging a path toward the things that are still to come.

And I will never lose hope that a meaningful, joyful life can exist on the other side of this illness.