A Letter to Lyme Disease
You came into my life slow, but steady, until you thought you won the race. You hung everything important to me out to dry. My job, my career, my relationships, my family dynamics, my home, my social life, traveling, hobbies, my bank account, my determination and aspirations.
All of it was deteriorated and replaced with ungodly symptoms and buckets of diagnoses. I was passed around like a hot potato; poked, prodded, gaslit, and steamrolled for years until they could finally figure out it was you. Couch bound, and dependent on my mother giving me showers.
How could this be happening to me? Why is my body trying to kill me? How much longer did I have? Was everything I experienced prior to this just a dream? Nothing took away my hope like you initially did. Nothing made me dread falling asleep at night for fear I wouldn’t wake up, like you did.
