Netflix's latest movie is based on the true story of an American writer who developed a terrifying brain disease - we speak to three young women who experienced the same condition
SUSANNAH Cahalan was 24 when she began foaming blood from her mouth, hearing voices, having seizures and felt her tongue twisting as she spoke.
The previously fit and healthy journalist had developed "Brain on Fire" disease - a rare autoimmune condition which causes psychosis, violent episodes and delusions - and is incredibly difficult to diagnose.
The 33-year-old journalist's terrifying battle with anti-NMDAR Encephalitis has been adapted into film called Brain on Fire which stars Chloë Moretz and was added to Netflix last month.
In it, we see Moretz's character - who was the 217th person to be diagnosed with the illness - have violent tantrums and outbursts and suffer hallucinations that people are trying to kill her.
The horrifying disease is categorised by a type of severe brain inflammation which causes the body's white blood cells to attack the brain and trigger psychosis.
It was first discovered in 2007 but is thought to be relatively common and mostly affects young women - and while around 30 per cent of cases are associated with ovarian tumours, terrifyingly, the cause of the rest is unknown.
Here, we speak to three young women who have survived the condition, including the teenage girl that thought she had transformed into a dinosaur - and even plaited her hair to make it look like her tail.
Lucy Evans, 19, Aberystwyth
"Last May I was working as a retail supervisor when I started having bouts of vomiting and problems with my vision blurring.
Within days I started experiencing paranoia and massive mood swings - going through intense highs and crushing lows.
My parents took me to the doctor who said it sounded as if I could have bipolar disorder.
But despite being prescribed antidepressants my symptoms worsened - I became aggressive and violent, having outbursts in public where I screamed and shouted at strangers.
The hallucinations came next. I saw all my toes falling off and thought that I was a T-Rex - even plaiting my hair so it could be my tail.
One day I thought I was a monkey and kept saying I needed to go back to the zoo.
As well as thinking I had become animals, I started to manically colour in colouring-in books, to the point where my hands became blistered.
A few weeks on, I suffered a two-minute seizure while at home and my condition deteriorated further. Doctors tried to convince my mum Liza that I needed to be sectioned - but she wouldn't let them as she was convinced something physical was wrong.
I was re-admitted to hospital for further tests. During one trip to the hospital, my older sister Charlotte filmed me and I look possessed. In one of them, I am constantly a singing Rick Astley song.
Thankfully, a specialist recognised the symptoms of anti-NMDAR encephalitis. He told my family if they didn't act fast I could die. The disease is fatal if it is left untreated - around 20 per cent of sufferers pass away from it.
I had immediate treatment - first was a steroid drip for 12 hours a day for five days to kill off the white blood cells attacking my brain, and the second was a drug called Rituximab, which I took for seven weeks to reduce the number of cells attacking my brain.
The steroids caused weight gain and skin problems, and made my hair fall out - but my changed appearance is a small price to pay when I'm incredibly lucky to be here.
I've been left with permanent damage to my brain, and problems with my memory, stuttering, and involuntary movements.
I'm registered disabled and everyday tasks such as popping to the shop are hard as my right leg drags.
Unfortunately, the doctors couldn't find out what had caused it, and it is possible that I could have a relapse, which really scares me.
I'll never be able to live alone, as I need constant monitoring of any signs that may indicate the disease has returned.
Elisabeth Demay, 23, France
"In October 2014 I was a typical 19-year-old student who loved hanging out with my boyfriend and friends - my life was perfect.
I never smoked, drank occasionally and had no history of mental health problems - so when I started to feel flat and had trouble sleeping I wondered what was happening.
I lost all sense of time - I thought I was still going to lectures but days would go by and I hadn't left my apartment.
One morning, I tried to stand up from a chair but I couldn't as my legs just weren't working.
Another day I tried to go for a walk near my apartment but got lost even though it was a route knew will. I called my boyfriend in tears and he came and found me.
I went to see a doctor but he put my symptoms down to university stress.
But things got worse and my personality completed changed. Usually calm, I became aggressive with my brother, screaming and shouting at him for asking me simple questions.
I had seizures, and my weight dropped to just under six stone as I couldn't eat.
I was admitted to hospital and spent weeks there not knowing what town I was in or what day it was.
I couldn't move or talk so lay there in silence, my family and boyfriend by my side.
Christmas, New Year and my 20th birthday passed by without anyone knowing what was wrong - until a doctor, who I refer to as my guardian angel, finally diagnosed me with anti-NMDAR encephalitis in January and started me on the correct treatment - Rituximab.
After being discharged, I spent four months in rehabilitation.
I arrived in a wheelchair as I was so weak - but worked so hard to get better to return to my studies that I left in heels, and was able to restart uni that September.
I had to relearn to stand, learn the alphabet and even be taught my own name which I had forgotten due to the condition.
I feel very lucky that I have no lasting effects from the disease. Now I'm studying a marketing course back at university.
I feel so grateful to the doctor who realised what was wrong with me - he saved my life."
Sheryl Kerr, 29, Dunbarton
"I was at my mum Mary's house one Saturday in September 2016 when I suddenly began to behave erratically.
I kept jumping up to make coffees, turning the shower on and off and roaming around the garden. I'd driven to my mum's but she took my car keys from me and decided to take me to hospital.
I'd never had any mental health problems, so it was very confusing to feel like this so out of the blue.
At Paisley Hospital, I told the doctor that I was fine and just needed to sleep it off, and I was sent back home.
But instead of sleeping I stayed up writing gibberish over and over - my sister had to hide all the pens and paper from me.
I was taken back to hospital and there my family was told that I was suffering from psychosis - I was sectioned me under The Mental Health Act and placed on a psychiatric ward.
Despite taking anti-psychotic drugs, I still behaved erratically, walking around completely topless, not sleeping or eating.
Four weeks later, my heart rate started to spike - a sign that I had a physical - not mental - illness.
Because I thought the nurses were trying to harm me, I had to be sedated before I could have a lumbar puncture - where a needle is put into your lower back to extract spinal fluid for testing - and a brain MRI scan.
These showed I had encephalitis - and I was immediately put on intravenous Rituximab to stop my body attacking itself.
All in all, I was in hospital for four months.
Although I am doing OK now, I still have problems with short-term memory. There isn't really much I can do except joke about it.
After being off for almost a year I am back working as a hairdresser.
It's such a scary condition. Going from feeling completely fine to thinking that nurses want to kill you is just horrible.
I'm not angry that I was sectioned, however I believe there needs to be more training among doctors on the condition, so people aren't mistakenly diagnosed with mental health problems.
I'm really glad that Brain on Fire has drawn attention to the devastating effects of this disease."
