My Story

27 Years of Struggle: My Journey to Discovering Lyme and Mold Illness and Finding Relief

19/20 year old (El) me, pictured on the right.

Hello, and welcome. I've started this blog because I am passionate about sharing my journey with you, so you can find hope and healing too! I want to inspire you to live…because I am for choosing life. El is 4 life! So here goes…

Growing up, I lived in a world full of adventure. I was part of the generation that spent endless hours outdoors—riding bikes, climbing trees, playing in the creek, and exploring the woods. My childhood was filled with many carefree days, riding scooters, jumping on trampolines, and chasing lightning bugs until the streetlights came on, signaling it was time to head home. We made mud “chocolate milkshakes” for our enemies, and spent hours building treehouses and climbing mountain trails. It was a simpler time when the world felt full of possibility.

In those wild childhood years, I had my fair share of unwelcome visitors—ticks. Between neighborhood pets and our adventures through the woods, I had a few run-ins with these tiny, unseen invaders. Looking back now, I believe these early encounters played a role in what would unfold in my life.

Here I am. 12 years old with my sidekick Taffy.

As I grew older, I remained active—climbing trees, riding horses through dense forest trails, and living life with the same passion. However, a single ride on the “Mind Bender” roller coaster at Six Flags when I was about 11 would change my life forever. I vividly remember that day. While riding through the 360-degree loops, a sharp pain enveloped my shoulder. Little did I know, this would be the beginning of 27 years of chronic pain. My shoulder injury haunted me through my teen years and into adulthood. Yet, I tried to push through it—carrying heavy backpacks to school, painting, wedging clay, and participating in life, despite the constant discomfort.

By the time I reached my 20s, things began to take a more serious turn. I went on a family trip just before my 21st birthday, and a simple bike ride left me unable to continue. The pain in my shoulder worsened, and what had once been manageable became debilitating. My college years were marked by increasing episodes of pain, fatigue, and frustration. I moved back home and tried physical therapy, only to find that it made things worse. I was diagnosed with scoliosis. I couldn’t ride anymore, and the fear that I might never live pain-free loomed large over me. The days of active adventures felt distant, and my world was shrinking.

By 29, things had reached a new low. A simple accident—being hit by a large bag of feed—triggered costochondritis, causing excruciating chest pain and further limiting my ability to function. Chronic joint pain set in, and I began fearing the worst—rheumatoid arthritis or some other kind of autoimmune disease. Despite countless blood tests, MRIs, and doctor’s visits, no one could find answers. I was scared and confused, resorting to extreme dietary restrictions in a desperate attempt to alleviate the symptoms. Gluten, dairy, sugar—bye bye! I event went vegetarian at times. Yet, giving all these up did not stop the pain.

The worst was yet to come. My body became hyper-sensitive to almost everything. Chemicals, fragrances, and even certain foods triggered violent reactions. My health was slipping further, and I felt like I was losing control. I had blood sugar issues and inflammation —swelling in my hands and feet. I experienced more GI issues! I began taking medication to manage the symptoms—ibuprofen and muscle relaxers for pain, Benadryl to sleep—but I knew this was no way to live. Marriage and kids had always been a big dream of mine. Yet dating felt impossible. The idea of sharing my struggles with someone—requiring them to accommodate my many health limitations—felt overwhelming.

The breaking point came during the pandemic. The world was already a chaotic place, and I was living in an environment that had been unknowingly damaging my health. My home had flooded several times, and though I thought it had been taken care of, I now know that mold was silently infiltrating my environment. For months, I struggled, unaware of what was truly going on, even when a health coach suggested it might be mold. Uneducated me, dismissed the idea. I didn’t see mold, so there must not be mold. Right? MMmmmm WRONG!

By this point, I was barely surviving. My muscles spasmed uncontrollably, and I was too weak to even plug in my phone. Simple tasks like opening a door or pulling up a sheet at night were beyond me. The pain, the weakness, the anxiety, the overwhelming fatigue—it all became too much to bear. I spent months locked in a cycle of self-medication and isolation, praying for relief. I remember one night, curled up in a ball, crying out to God for help, desperate for a way out of my suffering.

Eventually, my family helped me find a new doctor in a city about an hour away, and I began seeing a myofascial release therapist he recommended. At first, I was terrified—my body had become so sensitive that I feared any form of touch would only make things worse. But immediately I began to feel something shift. After just one session, I felt like a wetsuit two sizes two small had been removed from my body. It wasn’t a cure, but it was the first real relief I had felt in years. For the first time, I felt hope. I didn’t yet know I was dealing with Lyme disease and mold illness, but I knew I had found something that could help calm my nervous system and bring me some peace.

The year I moved to Birmingham I was down to 88 pounds, my hair was falling out and my skin was an absolute wreck. I could not open or close doors, drawers or operate the shower.

I moved to a Birmingham, to continue my healing journey. The transition was daunting, and I faced many challenges—especially without a support system close by. I hired help and began to slowly rebuild my life, seeing doctors, massage therapists, acupuncturists, and chiropractors. No one could pinpoint exactly what was wrong, but I kept searching. Then, after more bloodwork and tenuous testing, I met a holistic neurologist who referred me to a doctor specializing in advanced diagnostic tools. Through a Zyto scan, technology developed by NASA, I finally received the answers I had been searching for all these years. Lyme disease. Mold illness. Nervous system dysregulation. I wasn’t crazy. There was a real, physiological reason for my pain and suffering.

The diagnosis didn’t fix everything, but it gave me a roadmap. I began a comprehensive treatment plan—DesBio therapies, essential oils, hydrogen water, and a new approach to calming my nervous system. Slowly, but surely, my body started to respond. I started using patches that helped regulate and heal my body, and within weeks, I noticed a difference. I was able to say goodbye to the muscle relaxers I had relied on for over 5 years. My energy levels began to improve, and I was able to exercise with weights again. It wasn’t easy, but I could feel the shift.

My healing journey is still ongoing, but today, I am living a life that seems impossible. What took 27 years to diagnose and treat is now a story I share with others, hoping that no one else has to suffer as long as I did. If my story can help even one person find the answers they need, it will have been worth it.

To those of you who are still struggling, I want you to know that you are not alone. I see you. I understand your pain. And I promise, there is hope. You don’t have to suffer in silence. Keep searching for answers, and never lose hope. There are new tool and healing inventions entering the world we live in. What was once impossible is now I’m possible! If you are curious and want to know more about the healing tools I used, please reach out.

And thank you for reading my story. Your support means more than I can say.

2025—A much healthier happier me!