My Recovery from Lyme disease

We're going fast. I can tell because sometimes I move a bit as we go around curves and I hear the siren come on. I know that means people should get out of our way. I know that also means something about me, but that isn't the most pressing thought in my head. Isaac needs to be picked up at noon from preschool. I'm supposed to be there and I know I won't.

For the majority of our twenty minute ride together, I try to say this to the woman attending to me in the ambulance. I can see she has kind eyes and wants to understand, but can't. And for some unknown reason, I can not talk, that is the reason I am here. Words are in my head and I know what I want to say. But they feel like they are going through molasses and by the time my mouth opens, I can't form them in any coherent way.

Several hours later after running through almost all the tests I could possibly do, I am released with a message to talk with my doctor. This poses a significant challenge because I still can't talk. I do by now have advocates and can communicate via text. But it is frustrating to be released with the message that there is nothing more they can do for me.

Will I ever be able to talk again? Is there something really wrong? Am I dying? All these thoughts, the ones that were in the back of my mind in the ambulance, rise to the surface. I am terrified.

The next few days are spent in bed. I try to think logically about next steps, but everything is so foggy in my head. My whole body feels garbled, every cell. Words do begin to come out again, but they are garbled too. They are hard to form and some sounds I simply can't make. It is hard to find the motivation to think digging out of this hole is worth it.

But then that pressing voice that was with me in the ambulance comes back. I need to get up and feed Isaac. He needs to get dressed and off to school. It's funny to me looking back that this practical part of me was the string I hung onto to inch my way through the really tough moments. There was very little sentimentality in it all. It was just I had things to do that wouldn't stop because I had.

So I got up. I started searching for something, anything that would make me better. The antibiotics sure as heck weren't it. Lyme Disease. Google had pages and pages of posts on it. The first sites were from reputable medical sites, but the medical system had failed me thus far so I continued to scroll.

My search led to a ton of research on alternative ways to heal Lyme Disease. Since I had nothing to lose and a lot to gain, I tried many. I drank A LOT of celery juice. I took a ton of herbs, I took Epsom salt baths and dry brushed myself silly.

I finally landed on a supplement formula that over time did help me. My symptoms slowly began to dissipate, but my anxiety did not. If I skipped even 1 of the 40 or so supplements I took a day, symptoms would start to come back. I reasoned that even if I had to go the rest of my life taking all these supplements, at least I was alive and functional.

But there was something in my heart that felt like there was more to my healing journey. I felt better, but I did not feel healed. I didn't feel that transformation that almost always accompanies dark nights of the soul. I was still in a lot of fear. I felt better, but I was scared I would go back to that dark place.

I knew there was something more. After more research I came across brain retraining programs. These programs are aimed at healing chronic illness by regulating the stress response in the body. I was very aware the stress response was bad, but could it really contribute that much to an illness like I had? The resounding answer, which I discovered over the course of a year, was YES!

I committed myself to the practice. While not difficult, it took consistent effort, showing up an hour a day and being very aware my whole day to notice if I was triggered in a fight, flight, or freeze response. At first it was tiring, but I began to notice differences within a couple of weeks. One of the very first "different" emotions I felt was empowerment. This whole journey of being very ill, I felt as if my body went rogue and all I could do was try and calm it the best I could. In these first few weeks, it donned on me that I had way more power than I thought I ever could.

In addition to these brain retraining techniques, I began to receive and train in a somatic therapy modality called Transforming Touch™. It totally rocked my world. This technique is designed to heal the nervous system on foundational levels. It is aimed at healing developmental trauma, the trauma that occurs early in life, from in utero to the age of 5. This is when our nervous system is formed.

This practice opened me to a deep sense of peace and a calm that I had not known before. I realized I had never had this sense of regulation. I had been peaceful and calm, but it always felt like I was on a tight rope, constantly trying to stay in that zone. I had to do a lot of meditation and yoga to be there and when I got into situations that were stressful or overwhelming, my calm was quickly replaced by anxiety or irritation. This feeling was different. I felt grounded, peaceful, and able to metabolize whatever came at me without getting worked up. This isn't to say I never got worked up, but I noticed that and was able to get back to my balanced place a whole lot quicker.

After about three months, I began to notice symptoms significantly dissipating, even without taking supplements. I had more energy. I could eat way more foods without feeling sick. The constant neuropathy was gone. This was amazing, but the most significant of all the benefits was I was free of the constant anxiety. I had been walking through my days in a constant state of fear. If I eat this, will I be ok tomorrow? If I go for this walk, will I be able to get up in the morning? I developed a confidence in my wellness and myself.

Today I often feel a spontaneous sense of joy. I feel a gratitude for life. I notice the precious moments more readily and am often more drawn to positive influences, rather than negative ones (uh-hum---the news!). This whole journey has not only transformed me physically, but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. I am more compassionate and loving towards myself. It is just plain easier to be me. Looking back, I can honestly say it was all worth it. I'm truly grateful I have gone through this and I hope my story inspires others to know  that there is another side.

Until next time...be well!