Twitch: My Hemifacial Spasm Journey (pt. 1)
- Kash Brown
- Feb 25
- 15 min read
Updated: Mar 2
(Pt 1 of 3: Life Before Hemifacial Spasms—How It Began and the Symptoms)
A Day That Changed Everything
The Perfect Storm: Layoffs, a Pandemic, and Betrayal
The world and my face was falling apart. It was March 18, 2020, a day I’ll never forget. That morning, I logged in for work and was informed that my team at Google had been dissolved—I was being let go.
I’d barely processed this news when I received the announcement that the world was officially in a COVID-19 pandemic. As if these two events weren't enough, I found out that the guy I was dating had been cheating on me. It felt like a perfect storm of misfortune had descended upon me. (The truth is, my personal storm had been brewing for years, long before this chaotic day.)
I was overwhelmed. My head was pounding, I felt jittery in my arms and legs, but I couldn’t afford to fall apart. As a single mother of three, breaking down wasn’t an option. So I pushed forward. Business as usual. But life wasn’t done with me yet.
Let’s Rewind!
Grab your favorite beverage, get comfortable, and kick up your feet—I’m about to take you on a rollercoaster ride through my journey with Hemifacial Spasms (HFS), a condition I knew nothing about until it turned my life upside down.
Why is Hemifacial Spasms (HFS) Important?
HFS—or Hemifacial Spasms—is a rare neurological disorder that causes involuntary muscle contractions on one side of the face. It’s more common in middle-aged and older women, especially those of Asian descent, yet it remains poorly understood—even by medical professionals.
The crazy part? I wasn’t even middle-aged, and my 23andMe Ancestry composition shows there’s only 1% Asian in my DNA. Go figure!
I’m sharing my story to shine a light on HFS: its symptoms, the pros and cons of the treatments I’ve tried, and how I ultimately decided on Microvascular Decompression Surgery (MVD). So far, I’ve connected with over 50 women—helping them advocate for their medical needs and supporting more than 10 through their surgery journeys. If you’re living with HFS, know this: you’re not alone.
The First Signs of HFS (2015)
I was settling into a new job at Apple as a project manager, deploying Apple Shops into Best Buy stores. It was an exciting milestone after years in tech, yet the role was highly demanding. About a month in, my left eyelid began twitching uncontrollably—and it just wouldn’t stop.
At first, I brushed it off; after all, everyone’s eye twitches now and then, right? But over the next few months, it wasn’t just my eyelid anymore—my entire under-eye area started twitching. The more I worried, the worse it got, so I called my doctor.
He reassured me it was simply stress. Balancing life as a single mom, a full-time job, and a small business wasn’t exactly stress-free, so his explanation made sense—yet deep down, I knew something was off.
Symptoms Escalate
The twitching spread to my cheek. Simply smiling or showing any emotion triggered uncontrollable facial contortions—I felt like a stranger in my own body. Embarrassment set in, and I started avoiding eye contact during conversations. The once-confident, outgoing version of me was slowly slipping away.
Diagnosis... or Nah?
I scheduled a doctor’s appointment to have my eye checked. After a brief five-minute conversation, the doctor dismissed my concerns, attributing them to “stress” and suggesting Prozac along with therapy.
Prozac wasn’t for me, so I tried therapy instead. I kept an open mind, but the therapist and I just didn’t align—his lack of cultural awareness made it hard to feel understood, and it ultimately took a toll on my mental and emotional well-being. After three months, I tapped out.
The Search for Solutions
Frustrated, I returned to my primary doctor, who suggested Botox to paralyze the muscles and stop the twitching. For six months, I endured injections in my upper, side, and lower left eye. The result? Absolutely nothing. The twitching persisted, and to top it off, I didn’t even get the anti-aging bonus I’d secretly hoped for. So much for a two-for-one deal. Boohoo!
Movement Specialist
After not seeing any results from the Botox treatment, my doctor suggested I see a Movement Specialist—a neurologist who focuses on conditions that affect movement.
When I arrived at my appointment, the neurologist was warm and welcoming, which helped ease some of my concerns. She started by asking about my symptoms and carefully listening before moving on to a physical exam.
First, she tested my reflexes with her hammer, starting with my arms and working her way down to my knees and ankles. Next, she had me hold each leg out, one at a time, while applying pressure—and we repeated the process for my arms.
Then she asked me to close my eyes tightly and open them. The moment I did, the left side of my face started twitching. When she asked me to smile, things got even worse: the left side of my face pulled uncontrollably, and the twitching intensified.
She inquired if I’d noticed anything that eased or worsened the twitching. I explained that when it flared up, I’d stop whatever I was doing, take a few deep breaths, and try to relax until the twitching subsided.
Long story short, she couldn’t figure out what was causing the problem. Her only advice was to try eliminating as much stress as possible—something I’d heard far too many times by this point.
Daily Battle (2016)
The twitching had worsened—spreading to my nose, mouth, and lower jaw. I consulted multiple specialists (ophthalmologists, neurologists, and movement disorder experts), but none had answers. “It’s stress. Try to relax,” they said.
Relaxing wasn’t an option when every day felt like a battle. As a program manager, promoter, and photographer, I had to face people every day. I couldn’t hide my condition, though I did my best to push through while pretending nothing was wrong.
I began to notice clear triggers—work stress, dating, everyday life. Even when I tried to cut out as many stressors as possible, nothing made a significant difference.
Self Diagnosis… The Rabbit hole!
I let Google Search get the best of me—and I’m pretty sure the search bar was ready to give up. “What causes twitching on the left side of the face?” “Is twitching a sign of a tumor?” “How can I tell if I have a tumor?” The questions kept coming, and so did my searches. Meanwhile, the twitching grew more frequent, and my doctors still had no answers.
After diving into countless articles and forums, I became convinced I had a cancerous tumor. My world felt like it was ending.
Note to self: Never, ever try to self-diagnose with Google. You’ll end up in a rabbit hole of worst-case scenarios and panic.
Seeking Clarity (2017)
Panic on the Freeway
I was losing it. I couldn’t focus, and for the first time in my life, I’d experienced not one, but two panic attacks—unexpected intense anxiety that left me trembling, short of breath, dizzy, and overwhelmed by fear. The first time happened while I was driving on the freeway and talking on the phone, when all of a sudden my fingertips went numb and I could barely move. My youngest son was in the backseat and I was terrified. I had no clue what was happening to me. I managed to exit the freeway and pull into a gas station. Fortunately there was a police officer there who realized I was in distress. He called the fire department and ambulance. When they arrived, the fireman asked a few questions, gave me oxygen and quickly realized he recognized me as “The rollerblade lady” that’s always skating downtown Hayward. I began to feel better as the tingling sensation throughout my body began to subside.
The second panic attack occurred on the same freeway near my sister's apartment—this time, I was alone. I managed to exit and make it to the front of her building, which is also where her unit was. Her door was open and she looked out expecting me to walk in. I began to hyperventilate. I couldn’t breathe and my body was shaking. She realized something was off and ran to my car. That’s when she noticed I was having an attack and called the police. The ambulance arrived and took me to the hospital.
They couldn’t determine if the panic attacks were linked to the twitching, so they advised me to keep an eye on the slightest sign of symptoms, stop what I’m doing, take a few slow, deep breaths and try to relax to calm myself before it escalated. Easier said than done.
Demanding Answers!
The twitching was worsening, consuming every part of my life, and I felt like I was spiraling. To make it even harder, my family didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. They’d dismiss me with comments like, “It’s not that bad,” or, “You’re making a big deal out of nothing.” It felt like they were minimizing my pain, like they thought I was being dramatic. But they weren’t the ones living with it—I was. And every single day, it wore me down a little more. I’d had enough.
I called my doctor again, but this time, I wasn’t asking—I was demanding a CAT scan. I needed to rule out a tumor once and for all. The twitching, anxiety, and fear, and fear had pushed me to the edge—I needed answers.
The doctor pushed back, explaining that a CAT scan would expose me to high levels of radiation and should only be used in critical situations. But I didn’t care. My thought process was simple: If it’s a tumor, I’ll be exposed to radiation anyway—so why not find out now and ease the stress?
After some back and forth, the doctor finally compromised and ordered an MRI instead, explaining it was a safer option with no radiation risk. It wasn’t exactly what I had hoped for, but it was a step toward finally getting the answers I desperately needed.
8/26/2017 8:34:49
This was the exact moment the radiologist scanned my brain. They performed a generic MRI to check for a tumor. A week later, the results confirmed—no tumors and nothing else of concern.
I was relieved, yet confused and deeply concerned. How could this be? I felt like I was on a hamster wheel, running endlessly without progress. After seeing countless doctors who all hit dead ends, I began to accept that maybe this was just how my life would be.
Back to Google! (2018 - 2019)
I started a new job at Google as a Program Manager—a role that required me to be face-to-face with people every day. On top of a full-time job, I was still promoting events and doing event photography. A girl’s gotta eat, right? Yet every meeting, event, or photoshoot made it feel as though a giant spotlight was fixed on the left side of my face, highlighting the twitching for everyone to see.
The physical sensations only worsened; waves of tingling and twitching would run across the left side of my head, intensifying with every interaction.
When you’re living with something like this, it can feel so much bigger than it might look to others. But after more than three years of this, I was done. I was ready for it to just be over.
1/26/20: A Moment That Stuck with Me
I recall being hired to photograph an event, and the host asked if he could take a photo with me—the photographer. I tried to explain that I wasn’t comfortable being in pictures, but he insisted on a group shot with his friends, so I reluctantly agreed.
After the group photo, he wanted an individual shot. That’s when it happened—the left side of my face was literally stuck twitching. When he saw the photo, he asked, “Why are you making that face?” I laughed it off and said, “Oh, it wasn’t intentional. Let’s take another.”
Most people have a “good side” for photos, and mine had always been my left—until the twitching took over. So, I switched places and took the photo from my right side instead, hoping to hide the awkward look.
It was just one of many moments when my face betrayed me, each instance chipping away at my confidence a little more.
3/11/20: An Eerie Work Environment
Work took a strange turn when my director, manager, and a colleague all left the team—leaving me to manage everything on my own. When an important customer came into town, an exec asked me to meet with him since no one else was available. Despite the pressure mounting, I agreed.
I vividly remember sitting across from the VP of one of our largest accounts, feeling overwhelmingly awkward. Naturally, the left side of my face decided to make its presence known. I’m not sure if he noticed, but my discomfort was obvious—and I’m certain it made the interaction awkward for him too.
After a brief conversation and handshake, he left, and I was left feeling terrible. I wished I could have been more engaging, but between my circumstances and uncontrollable twitching, it just wasn’t possible.
The Homeopathic Journey
Lion’s Mane (1/23/2018)
I’d tried just about everything, so I decided to think outside the box. What did I have to lose? While researching home remedies, I came across Lion’s Mane—a mushroom touted to improve cognitive function (memory, concentration, and mental clarity) and even offer neuroprotective effects for women. The reviews were promising, so I ordered Lion’s Mane (Hericium Erinaceus) on Amazon.
Now, I’m not like most people. Things that typically work for others seem to have the opposite effect on me. While alcohol might get others hyped at a club, it knocks me out; Red Bull and coffee boost energy for some but drain me; even vitamins can make me nauseous. Still, I figured I’d give Lion’s Mane a try, hoping it might ease the twitching.
The recommended dose was two capsules daily—so I took one in the morning and one at night. By the next day, I had an excruciating headache, as if someone were squeezing my brain from the inside. I initially assumed it was a random bad headache.
The following day, after taking two more capsules, I woke up with such intense pain I wanted to scream. That was my cue: I stopped taking Lion’s Mane. Sure enough, the next day, the headache was gone. I never got a chance to see if it would help my condition.
I researched why Lion’s Mane might have caused my headaches and discovered that it increases blood flow to the brain, a process known as vasodilation. This expansion of blood vessels can sometimes trigger severe headaches, especially in people sensitive to changes in circulation. Hold that thought—there are new findings as of 2024 that shed even more light on why I had such a negative reaction, and I’ll get into that later.
Later, I learned that Lion’s Mane increases blood flow to the brain—a process called vasodilation—which can trigger severe headaches in people sensitive to changes in circulation caused by the expansion of blood vessels. (Stick a pin in that—there's a new discovery as of July 2024 that explains even more about my experience.)
Magnesium Glycinate
I was having trouble relaxing and getting a good night’s sleep, so my doctor recommended Pure Encapsulation Magnesium Glycinate. This supplement is known for its ability to relax muscles, promote sleep, and reduce stress and anxiety—not to mention its support for nerve function, blood sugar regulation, and bone health.
While it did help me catch some quality ZZZs, it didn’t make any dent in the twitching.
TRP (The Relief Products) - Eye Twitching Relief Drops
Along with magnesium, they also recommended eye drops to help relieve twitching and nervous tension in my eyelids. Since I was struggling with sleep, they figured my eyes might be drying out, potentially triggering the twitching. Surprisingly, finding eye drops specifically for both dryness and twitching wasn’t easy—it took some digging. Eventually, I came across TRP Eye Twitching Relief Drops, a homeopathic remedy.
While the drops did relieve the dryness, they did nothing for the twitching.
Acupuncture & Cupping Therapy
I’d read that acupuncture and cupping could help release trigger points—also known as myofascial trigger points. These are sensitive, tight knots in the soft tissue that cause pain, tension, and even limited mobility.
Acupuncture, the well-known treatment for trigger points, involves inserting fine needles into specific acupoints to trigger a muscle response that increases blood flow and naturally releases tension.
Fire cupping—a practice over 3,000 years old—uses heat and suction to release deep muscle tension. Unlike a deep tissue massage, which applies downward pressure, fire cupping creates a negative pressure that lifts and loosens tight areas.
After reading several Google reviews, I chose Numo Acupuncture in San Jose, CA. The therapist and I discussed my symptoms, then she recommended acupuncture on my legs and cupping on my face. I’d never tried either before, so I trusted her expertise.
She warned me that facial cupping could leave significant bruising—fortunately, it was Friday, so I’d have the weekend to recover.
The acupuncture was straightforward: she inserted 10 needles into each leg, from my ankles up to my knees. It was painless—just small pokes as each needle was inserted.
But the cupping? Immediate regret.
She applied five cups on my face. Each cup suctioned my skin so intensely it felt like an old-school granny pinching your cheeks—times ten. The pain was unbearable. After 10 minutes, when the cups were removed, I looked like Martin when his head knotted up after his boxing match—swollen, bruised, and unrecognizable.
She assured me that the swelling would subside, and I’d feel relief by the next day. Days passed, and while the bruising faded, the twitching remained. It didn’t work.
A few months later, a massage therapist specializing in cupping explained that the practitioner had used the wrong technique. Unlike body cupping—which uses stronger suction and can bruise—facial cupping requires gentler suction to avoid breaking blood vessels or causing discoloration.
Lesson learned!
Chiropractic Wellness Center
One day, while driving home, I spotted a wellness center and decided to stop by—hoping their nutrition services might offer some insight into my condition. They offered a range of treatments: massage, headache relief, physiotherapy, chiropractic care, and solutions for neck and back pain.
The doctor began with a full exam. He had me step on a scale to check my weight distribution and assess my alignment. Next, he used a MyoVision 3G FS Static sEMG to measure electrical activity in my muscles (values expressed in microvolts, ranging from low to high). My EP Stress Score came in at 1378—definitely on the high end. After his assessment, he reassured me that the twitching was simply caused by a misalignment of my spine.
Because of my high score, he recommended I come in for adjustments twice a week. He explained that a misalignment in my neck and spine was putting pressure on a nerve, which was triggering the twitching in my face. He assured me that after a couple of months, I’d see a difference. Although it didn’t make sense that it would take that long, I decided to give it a try. After a month and eight sessions later, there was no improvement. I realized he hadn’t properly diagnosed me, so I stopped the sessions to avoid causing more damage since nothing was clarifying the root cause of my twitching.
He strongly recommended that I continue the chiropractic sessions, but I decided not to. Why would I keep paying for a service that wasn’t working?
Agaricus Muscarius
I knew I was dealing with cognitive issues on the left side of my face, yet I still lacked clear answers on both the cause and a solution.
Continuing my research, I discovered Agaricus Muscarius on the HomeopathyPlus website—a remedy said to have a long history of medicinal use. According to We Clinic (April 11, 2024), it boasts benefits such as:
Boosting the immune system
Reducing inflammation
Improving cognitive function
Increasing energy levels
Enhancing mood
The claim that caught my attention was its potential to improve cognitive function—including memory, learning, and concentration. At this point, I figured, why not?
I ordered the smaller bottle (30 pellets), since I was unsure if it would help my twitching. I’ve never been one to take a lot of medication—I prefer letting my body heal naturally—but at that point, I was desperate.
Then COVID-19 hit, causing shipping delays. By the time my order arrived, I’d already spoken with a neurosurgeon and had a clearer picture of my condition. I no longer believed the pellets could help.
Still, I reached out to the seller—a homeopathy specialist—to see if there was any realistic chance the pellets might work. They said I’d need a consultation, but since they were based in Australia, that wasn’t feasible. In the end, I decided not to try the pellets.
The Pandemic
3/18/20: A day many of us will never forget. The world officially announced we were in a pandemic, and suddenly, everyone was confined to their homes until further notice.
As if that wasn’t heavy enough, I was notified that I’d been laid off from my job—which explained why my team member, manager, and director had quietly moved to other teams. I had been kept in the dark. And to top it all off, on the same day, I found out the guy I was dating had been cheating on me.
Three major life-changing events happened in a single day, and it felt like my world was unraveling. Before the twitching, I never really had an indicator to tell me when I was overwhelmed or needed to slow down. As a Black woman, we’re taught that “too much” doesn’t exist—we bear it all and keep going because we’re resilient. But sometimes, the body screams, “Enough is enough!”
I had to take a step back. I sat down, took deep breaths, and tried to block out anything that could add to my stress. I focused on finding some sense of peace in that moment, but it was a lot—more than I could handle.
And just when I thought I had reached my limit, life had something else in store.
Final Thoughts
That’s a wrap for Part 1, ladies. If you’ve stuck with me so far, you know it’s been one wild ride with my—from feeling like my world was falling apart to trying every remedy under the sun, all while juggling a hectic life. But trust me, the rollercoaster isn’t over yet.
Looking back, I realize how desperate I was to find relief. I went down so many paths—some promising, others painful. Each attempt was a lesson, showing me just how much we’re willing to endure in search of healing.
If you’re on a similar journey, my advice is this: always do your research, trust your instincts, and listen to your body. What works for one person may not work for another, and that’s okay. Healing is a process, and sometimes, the path to answers is just as important as the destination.
Up next in Part 2 of my Hemifacial Spasms Journey
The Diagnosis – A Call That Changed Everything
I’ll reveal the unforgettable moment when a neurosurgeon’s call forced me to confront the truth about my body—when I learned that the twitching wasn’t stress, but actual muscle spasms triggered by something he saw on my 2017 MRI scan (yes, the very scan they said showed nothing of concern).
Stay tuned for a story that changed my life. You won’t want to miss what comes next!
We want to hear your voice! If you’ve faced similar challenges or have a story to share, drop a comment below and join the conversation.
Sources
Why Women Over 40 Should Consider Facial Cupping (Rick J. Smith, MD)
We Clinic - Agaricus Muscarius – Uses, Dosage, Side Effects, Composition and More (By Deeksha Katiyar)
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