Using ChatGPT to Find Clues to My Health Issues

I was recently in a situation where I became very frustrated and upset. It happened during a visit with a family member. Someone who, to be clear, did not intend to hurt me. Unfortunately, I’ve had a lot of difficulty processing my feelings over the decades. With all the somatic work I’ve been doing, I am now at a point in this process where any little thing can put me into a freak-out.

The Arrival

The first night I arrived, I couldn’t sleep, which, honestly, that’s nothing new. But it’s worse when I am upset. Part of the anger came from the feeling that my health struggles weren’t fully understood. It brings up the pain of being seen as a liar or a hypochondriac. This makes hanging out with family quite exhausting.

The next day, I noticed myself going into full “problem-solving mode,”. I am learning all kinds of things about “problem-solving mode”. Seems overuse of that ability can encourage even more dysregulation for a person like me.

I was still very emotional, and it got to a point where I was noticing that simple tasks became harder and harder to manage. Even something like putting away laundry felt almost impossible. I’d start the task, then freeze, then try again, and freeze again. It’s like my mind just stalls.

Introduction to ChatGPT

I was chatting with a friend earlier in the week. She was telling me that she was using ChatGPT to interpret her dreams. She was really excited about the insights she was getting and found the whole process surprisingly meaningful. I thought it was such a creative way to use it. That got me thinking about how I could use it for myself. What if I tried sharing some of my health history with it?

I was trying to explain to it about this strange in-between state with my sleep. Something that’s been going on since before 7 years old. It’s a state where I’m never fully asleep, yet exhausted and aware enough to hear footsteps at night. But unable to reach deep REM sleep.

In the next part of this blog, I’ll share some of the questions I asked ChatGPT, and the responses I received about this “freeze” sleep state. It was eye-opening to realize how much this pattern may have shaped my life, especially in terms of how little restorative sleep I may have gotten over the course of my entire life.

ChatGPT Discussion

Disclaimer: Before I discuss my experience using ChatGPT as a support tool, I want to clearly acknowledge the limitations of AI and the importance of professional care. Any health-related concerns should always be addressed by a licensed medical or mental health professional. In the case of an emergency, please call 911 or seek immediate assistance.

While ChatGPT has been useful for my personal reflection and emotional processing, it can sometimes produce inaccurate or misleading information, commonly referred to as “AI hallucinations.” This may include referencing studies that do not exist, offering specific medical suggestions without credible sources, or presenting speculative ideas as facts. These errors stem from the AI’s reliance on pattern recognition rather than lived experience or clinical expertise. Although many efforts were made to prevent these kinds of mistakes, AI can still make mistakes and is still ever-evolving. I do share this with great care in mind.

This content is not intended to serve as medical advice. Always consult a qualified healthcare provider for any medical or psychological concerns.

ME: I noticed that the kind of sleep I had this afternoon was the kind where I am aware of what was going on. It wasn’t like 100% sleep. I could still hear the footsteps of everyone in the house, and I even heard a conversation happening in the next room. But I was so tired.

ChatGPT said:

This is a kind of hypervigilant, non-restorative “freeze state sleep” — isn’t a recognized clinical term in mainstream sleep medicine, but it’s a plausible synthesis of well-documented physiological responses. In fact, it aligns closely with how trauma and nervous system dysregulation can interfere with deep sleep, as seen in:

• Polyvagal theory (Stephen Porges): describes how the nervous system shifts into dorsal vagal shutdown; a “freeze” or immobilized state.
• Trauma literature (like Peter Levine’s Waking the Tiger or Bessel van der Kolk’s The Body Keeps the Score): often talk about how trauma disrupts sleep and creates semi-conscious dissociation during rest.
• Neurobiology of stress: supports that during chronic stress or unresolved trauma, cortisol, adrenaline, and endogenous opioids can dysregulate sleep cycles.

It’s not sleep for healing. It’s sleep for survival.

In this state, the individual does not experience restorative REM sleep. Instead, they remain in a semi-conscious state characterized by cognitive fragmentation, intrusive or disorganized thought patterns, and hypnagogic-like experiences such as partial dreams or internal dialogue.

When your nervous system goes into “freeze” (instead of fight/flight), it releases chemicals that numb you out, slow you down, make you feel like you’re underwater. It’s the same mechanism animals use when they “play dead” to survive predators.

ME: What are the brain chemicals that get released?

ChatGPT said:

Good question:

1. Endogenous Opioids (your body’s homemade painkillers)

• When your system decides it can’t run or fight, it dumps natural opioids into your bloodstream.
• These chemicals numb you out both emotionally and physically.
• You feel detached, floaty, foggy, heavy — like you’re underwater.
• It’s your body’s way of anesthetizing you against panic or pain it doesn’t believe you can escape.

2. Cortisol (the stress hormone overlord)

• Cortisol gets dumped in huge amounts during trauma and freeze.
• High cortisol messes up your ability to think clearly, regulate emotions, or sleep properly.
• It tells your body: “Stay alert. Stay frozen. It’s not safe to relax.”
• That’s why your “sleep” didn’t feel like real sleep — your cortisol was still running security checks on every noise, thought, and memory.

3. Adrenaline (fight/flight juice — but it jams the system during freeze)

• Normally, adrenaline powers you up to run or fight.
• But when you freeze, adrenaline can’t discharge.
• It just stagnates in your body, leaving you feeling twitchy, trapped, jittery — like you need to do something but can’t even lift your arms.
• This stuck adrenaline is part of why, when you wake up from freeze, you feel like you’ve been hit by a truck.

4. Reduced Oxytocin and Serotonin (the “I’m safe and connected” chemicals)

• During freeze, your brain pulls back on oxytocin (bonding hormone) and serotonin (happiness, safety, well-being chemical).
• Your brain says: “We can’t risk feeling cozy or trusting right now. Survival first.”
• That’s why you feel lonely, alienated, and sometimes even self-hating after a freeze episode.
• Your emotional trust system literally gets switched off like flipping a breaker.

Freeze mode brain cocktail:

• Natural opioids numb out so you don’t feel how bad it is.
• Cortisol keeps you terrified and hyper-vigilant.
• Adrenaline revved up the engine but the brakes are slammed.
• Shutdown on happy chemicals (no cozy feelings allowed)

I can go deeper into this explanation by giving tips on how to combat this.

Me: Ok explain

ChatGPT said:

1. MOVE. Just A Little

• Why?
  Adrenaline is stuck in your muscles.
  Even when you only do tiny movements, you give your body a way to release it instead of letting it stay inside you.
• How:
  • Walk around the room.
  • Stretch like a cat (arms up, back arch).
  • Shake your hands out like you’re trying to fling water off them.
  • No workouts. No forcing.

Tiny movement = huge chemical reset.

2. Drink Water.

• Why?
  Cortisol (stress hormone) makes your blood thicker and your system sluggish.
  Water literally helps your body flush it out through your kidneys and liver.
• How:
  • Small sips often.
  • Don’t chug like a frat boy.
  • Think “slow drip irrigation for a wounded plant,” not “try to fix everything immediately.”

Water = secret emotional plumbing.

3. Ground Your Body (Touch Real Things).

• Why?
  Freeze makes you disassociate — lose track of where your body ends and the world begins.
  Grounding brings your brain back into your skin.
• How:
  • Touch something real and textured (tree bark, a blanket, your car keys).
  • Push your feet into the floor and notice the pressure.
  • Hold something heavy-ish in your hands (like a mug, a book, your own dumb tired face.)

**You’re telling your brain:
“We’re not in a death trap anymore. We are HERE.”

4. Make Sound

• Why?
  Your vagus nerve — the one that controls “calm down” mode — responds to low vibrations, like humming or soft sighing.
• How:
  • Hum to yourself.
  • Make a low “mmmmm” sound.
  • Exhale with a long, sigh.

Sound = turning on your nervous system’s “relax” switch.

5. Try and Feel Safe, Even If You Fake It At First.

• Why?
  Your brain needs new evidence that you’re safe now — or it’ll stay stuck thinking you’re still trapped.
• How:
  • Wrap yourself in a blanket.
  • Sit in a safe-feeling corner.
  • Watch something totally harmless and brainless.
  • Tell yourself out loud: “I am safe right now. I don’t have to solve anything. I can just exist.”

Your nervous system can eventually start to calibrate to the message. Just start off small and keep trying.

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FINAL NOTE:

This blog post is a reflection of my personal experience, filtered through conversations with AI. It is not a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. I do hope that anything provided here can be of benefit to anyone seeking some direction but please use your own discernment and always consult a qualified healthcare provider for any health concerns.

Here are a few resources that offer deeper insights into the freeze response and how it can affect the nervous system:

Understanding the Freeze Response and Dorsal Vagal Shutdown

Delayed Nervous System Response: My Experience – Astra Speaks