In late 2023, my life changed completely and without warning.

Before becoming sick, I lived an intensely active, outdoors-centered life. I spent my time hiking, climbing, snowboarding, running, fishing, traveling, and immersing myself in nature whenever possible. Movement was second nature to me. I was independent, adventurous, physically strong, intentionally sober, and deeply connected to my body. That was my normal.

Then, in September 2023, my body began changing in ways that made no sense.

What started as subtle shifts quickly escalated into something overwhelming and terrifying. I began experiencing sudden emotional and neurological changes that felt entirely unlike me including waves of irritability, emotional instability, and intense episodes of unexplainable rage that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Almost immediately afterward behavioral and mental symptoms came dramatic physical symptoms.

Within an incredibly short period of time, I was gaining and losing nearly 30 pounds within a week’s timespan, losing clumps of my hair, developing facial twitches, experiencing episodes of passing out, and watching my hands and feet turn blue from poor circulation. My body no longer felt recognizable to me.

I sought medical care immediately.

At the first appointment, I was told I was young, healthy, active, and likely dealing with hormones or stress. But my symptoms continued rapidly escalating. A level of fatigue set in that I can only describe as a full-body collapse of energy and function. It was not ordinary exhaustion. It felt as though every system in my body was beginning to shut down.

Soon after came severe joint and musculoskeletal pain. At times my hips would suddenly give out to the point where I physically could not lift my leg. My body became unpredictable. Simple daily tasks started feeling impossible.

By early 2024, I was in and out of doctors’ offices constantly.

Over the course of 2024 and into 2025, I saw more than 20 providers across multiple disciplines, including neurology, rheumatology, functional medicine, general medicine, naturopathy, homeopathy, Chinese medicine and more. I spent what amounted to more than a year’s salary on medical appointments, laboratory testing, imaging, supplements, treatments, and consultations in an attempt to find answers.

Despite the volume of care and consistency, answers never came.

As time passed, the symptoms became increasingly systemic and neurological. I was continuously declining.

I developed severe brain fog and cognitive dysfunction that at times made me feel detached from reality as if I were drugged, intoxicated, or not fully present in my own body. I would forget where I was driving and have to pull over in confusion to call my mom for help. I was struggling to remember conversations, losing track of the day of the week, had difficulty processing information, and experienced periods where my memory and cognition felt profoundly impaired. I had bursts of suicidality that were unlike any other depressive episode I ever experienced.

Alongside the multiplying symptoms, I was experiencing constant internal tension, panic-like surges, dizziness, temperature dysregulation , head pressure, vision and hearing disturbances, rashes, heart palpitations, air hunger, weakness, low blood pressure, and episodes where I would collapse physically. Friends and people around me began noticing that I could no longer keep up physically. I became short of breath doing basic tasks and increasingly unable to function normally.

Between 2024 and 2025, I was in the emergency room approximately twice a month on average.

One emergency visit involved atrial fibrillation. Another involved a spinal fluid leak. The ER visits were not light hearted visits. Following the cardiac-related ER visit, I was referred to cardiology and was once again told it was “just anxiety.” I knew in my body that something far more serious was happening, so I pushed for additional testing. Eventually, a heart monitor confirmed I had developed a first-degree heart block.

As my condition progressed, my physical functioning continued deteriorating.

I eventually reached a point where I weighed 119 pounds and could no longer climb stairs without stopping. Standing long enough to shower became difficult. Cooking for myself became nearly impossible. There were days I could barely get out of bed.

At the same time, because no one could explain what was happening, I began removing anything I thought could possibly be contributing to inflammation or toxicity. I eliminated every toxic product I used in my home, shifted to an extremely strict lifestyle, cleaned up my diet even more, and dedicated myself entirely to trying to heal.

Nothing changed.

Instead, I continued getting worse.

Throughout this process, I was repeatedly referred to psychiatry and prescribed multiple psychiatric medications, including antidepressants, anti-anxiety medications, and antipsychotics. None of them improved my physical symptoms. At one point, I was advised to consider inpatient psychiatric hospitalization. Or told that I was a hypochondriac.

That was one of the most disorienting moments of my life.

I knew something physical was happening to my body, yet I was repeatedly being told it was psychological.

At the same time, I began experiencing increasing medical gaslighting and invalidation from people around me. My symptoms were continually dismissed as anxiety or stress despite obvious physical deterioration. My former partner told me I was “putting on a show.” My employer at the time suggested I “be a big girl” and seek mental health treatment. Even some family members questioned whether this was all in my head because no medical answers had been discovered.

Over time, the constant dismissal began making me question my own reality, despite knowing deep down that my body was failing me.

In early 2025, I had already begun missing increasing amounts of work as my condition continued to decline. By July 2025, after nearly two years of searching for answers and reaching a point of complete exhaustion and frustration from being dismissed, I became unable to work and was placed on medical leave.

So I decided to take the investigation into my own hands.

Using my background in healthcare and biomedical research, I created an extensive spreadsheet documenting every symptom, progression pattern, abnormal test result, environmental exposure, and potential diagnosis I could identify. I cross-referenced conditions, studied medical literature, and narrowed my search down to approximately 117 possible causes.

I began independently scheduling appointments through my insurance portal and advocating aggressively for further testing. If a provider refused to consider the possibility that something deeper was happening or declined to investigate appropriately, I respectfully ended the appointment and moved on.

Eventually, I found a provider willing to run the testing I was asking for.

The following day, I finally received my diagnosis: Lyme disease.

[It ultimately took nearly two full years to receive an initial Lyme disease diagnosis and over two years to access truly comprehensive testing and clearer answers regarding the full extent of what was happening in my body.

I later learned that this delay is not unusual. The average time it takes for many Lyme patients to receive a diagnosis is estimated to be around two years. I became another statistic in a system where complex chronic illness is too often overlooked, minimized, or missed entirely. For many people, the wait is even longer.]

That has to change.

But even then, the story was not complete. While I was on medical leave, I was informed that my position was being terminated. Even with ongoing medical documentation and clear functional decline, my condition was still not fully recognized or understood by my employer.

Between July 2025 and early 2026, I underwent extensive treatment including 45 days of PICC line IV antibiotics, more than 15 oral antibiotics, countless supplements, strict nutritional changes, adjunct therapies, emergency visits, daily medical appointments, and significant lifestyle modifications in an attempt to stabilize my health.

Despite aggressive treatment, I continued struggling with severe neurological and systemic symptoms that suggested something larger was still being missed.

The delayed recognition had already allowed the illness to progress significantly. I now also carry diagnoses including Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), autoimmune dysfunction, chronic viral reactivation, neuroinflammation, Myalgic Encephalomyelitis/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (ME/CFS), and a first-degree heart block.

I have since also learned that I was dealing with multiple overlapping infections, Lyme coinfections, and complications contributing to the severity of my condition.

In March 2026, I was finally able to establish care with a Lyme-literate physician who performed significantly more comprehensive testing.

At that point, I was additionally diagnosed with Long COVID and multiple Lyme coinfections including Ehrlichia, Anaplasmosis, Bartonella, and Babesia which are also infections that had likely been contributing to the severity, complexity, and progression of my condition for years.

I was also told I had one of the most severe cases of neurological Lyme disease the clinic had encountered.

Suddenly, years of symptoms that had once been dismissed as anxiety, stress, or psychosomatic finally began making medical sense.

Lyme disease fundamentally changed every aspect of my life.

I went from living fully outdoors to struggling with basic daily tasks. There are still many days where climbing stairs feels overwhelming or is physically impossible. I still struggle to stand long enough to shower or cook for myself. I struggle to read, drive, and routinely forget things that my once analytical brain would thrive on. I continue to battle significant neurological, cardiac, cognitive, and physical symptoms every single day.

In April and May 2026, I underwent another intensive treatment protocol involving daily eight hour medical infusions for five consecutive weeks alongside multiple adjunct therapies.

I remain actively in treatment and have undergone numerous therapies and interventions in pursuit of healing. Despite extensive treatment efforts, meaningful recovery has been slow and complex. I am seeking a glimmer to give me the hope to continue pushing through.

I am now in what I hope is the repair and rebuilding phase of this journey, a phase teaching me patience in ways I never imagined possible.

My daily reality still consists of more than 40 medications and supplements, a minimum of two injections per day, ongoing treatments, and an extremely strict lifestyle and diet free from gluten, dairy, and sugar.

I continue living with the neurological, cardiac, cognitive, autonomic, and systemic repercussions of late-stage Lyme disease and delayed diagnosis every single day.

I am sharing my story because too many people living with Lyme disease and complex chronic illness are dismissed, misdiagnosed, minimized, or told it is “just anxiety” while their bodies continue deteriorating in real time.

The emotional damage of not being believed while actively losing your health is something I would never wish on anyone.

If sharing my experience helps even one person advocate harder for themselves, seek answers sooner, feel less alone, or recognize symptoms earlier, then telling this story is worth it.

Most importantly: please check for ticks.. for yourself and for the people you love.

This illness has taken pieces of my independence, identity, career, relationships, and the life I once moved through so freely. But it has also shown me the depth of human resilience, compassion, and community in ways I never could have imagined. It redirected me in ways I did not know I need.

You can survive something and still grieve what it took from you. I yearn for the day I can run again, cook without sitting, read- the simple things we take for granted.

I am still fighting every single day. I am still on the hunt for healing.

And on the days I no longer feel strong enough to carry myself forward, it is my support system, my loved ones, and the Lyme community that continue carrying me through.

I am still searching for enough light to continue pushing forward.

To everyone who has believed me, advocated for me, supported me, prayed for me, checked on me, driven me to appointments, sat beside me in the darkest moments, or simply reminded me that I am not alone, thank you.

I would not still be here without you.

And lastly, whatever weight you’re carrying, no matter what it may be - I believe you.