Twenty years ago, my life turned upside down. On my 40th birthday, Dec. 2004, so much was going so well: a great marriage; enjoying parenting two wonderful kids ( 6 and 11) and two wonderful older step children; active and very fit; finding the perfect job, becoming a district Art teacher for Middle and High schoolers, even earning a rookie teacher of the year award; traveling; and multiple social opportunities. One year later, on my 41st birthday, I was in the hospital, unable to move or speak with the worst headache of my life. Finally, a PCR test of spinal fluid and a SPECT scan told the story. That mysterious red ring I had on my leg 15 years earlier was Lyme disease, and left untreated, had settled in multiple and various parts of my body. Most of the disabling damage came from the infection spreading to the central nervous system, resulting in cognitive and neurological dysfunction, and arthritis. Coinfections, including Bartonella, Babesia, and Ehrlichiosis, manifested chronic low-grade fever, arthritis, fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, vestibular balance disorder (vertigo, hearing loss, tinnitus), and shingles.

Twenty years is too much to try cover in detail, so I can only summarize. Never giving up having a life again, I tried every treatment. I adjusted my expectations as time passed to stay on the positive path. Finally, two years ago, I started to improve, and the chronic low-grade fever and nausea were subsiding. Being bed-bound for so many years had created disability on its own, a completely deconditioned state. In January 2024, my goal was to stand up long enough to make a cup of instant coffee. Today, still improving, I can make the coffee and my own quick meals, do my own laundry, and stay out of bed 1 to 2 hours a day. I've had to accept that some abilities may never come back, like natural drawing ability, reading, and I might have to be more realistic about the improbable participation in my previous favorite activities, dancing, mountain biking, backpacking, tennis, and traveling. What I want more than anything is to find a way back up to the land of the living, mobile, being productive, reconnecting with the human race, and some financial security.

My best chance get out of the financial prison is to learn how sell on eBay and possibly continue painting. I believe I have the energy to do this, but there are logistics I realize I am not capable of resolving myself. So anxious to find a way out of poverty, yet so rusty in interacting with others, organizing, and decision-making. It has also become apparent that starting even the simplest of businesses takes money.

You might be able to imagine what my bedroom, the place of all activity, and my addled brain, unable to create any organization. Add the absence of the energy needed for even simple cleaning, I am surrounded by a chaotic mess.

Estimated costs:

To function, I need an organized, clean bedroom and workspace. Hiring a cleaner/organizer for $200. Researching what is needed for selling on eBay, I will need a thermal printer for $70, display, packaging, and shipping materials, perhaps $50-$100, but being a new venture, just an estimate. Also need a PO Box and enough money in my checking account to set up an eBay store, art supplies, and printing costs.

Given the ongoing weakness, lack of stamina, and cognitive challenges, I am and will remain committed to doing whatever is necessary to improve. Simple math says I will not be able accomplish this goal without help from others. Always proud and independent, it is not an easy thing to admit. Yet having lost my marriage, my fantastic job, years without being fully involved in my kids' lives, my cognitive and physical abilities, friendships, social life, being a homeowner, having a car, wardrobe (flooded basement); losing the more and more personal belongings with each of the seven financially necessary downsizing moves, not to mention twenty years missed opportunities, and experiences, I am finally starting to feel comfortable asking for help.

It feels as if this is the ultimate precipice of the entire ordeal. It feels like I am just yards from the finish line, the outcome to be bedbound or freedom. Reengaging with the world has demonstrated how much harder it is to do what used to be simple tasks. Success will require continued determination, knowing I will be so full of gratitude if I can just manage to be productive again and get much-needed relief from the black hole of financial ruin.

Unless you experienced a complete reversal of fortune, it would be very hard to comprehend how stressful it has become after so many years living below the poverty line. If able to get organized and create a functional working space, then who knows, maybe a future with paid haircuts, decent clothes, and freedom.