Help Tara Fight RA and Rebuild Her Life

"Asking for help is a sign of strength, not weakness."

Hi, my name is Tara, and I’m a 33 year old woman battling Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA), a painful and unpredictable autoimmune disease. When I first became sick in 2017, I had all of the symptoms of Lyme disease and/or Epstein Barr, but because I never tested positive, I was never treated for either virus, and it took years for doctors to give me a diagnosis. I was put on a high dose of steroids and referred to a Rheumatologist at just 26 years old. Because of how young and healthy I was prior to getting sick, the progression of my disease was rather slow in the beginning stages, and up until a few years ago my diagnosis was “auto immune arthritis” or “chronic inflammation."

Living with RA means constant pain, fatigue, and uncertainty. Simple tasks like getting out of bed, cooking, or even holding a pen were becoming not only exhausting, but excruciating. I went from being a lover of hiking, gardening, running, swimming, yoga, walking for miles with my camera making art, to barely being able to put my socks on or brush my hair.

RA affects everyone differently. For some, it progresses slowly, while for others, it can worsen quickly. New joints can become inflamed unexpectedly, and damage can occur even when symptoms seem mild. Living with chronic pain and inflammation is like carrying an invisible weight that never goes away. Even the simplest daily tasks, things most people take for granted, have become exhausting and overwhelming. My inability to participate in social activities the way I used to quickly led to feelings of loneliness and disconnection.

My constant battle with pain, on top of the uncertainty of my health, was taking a huge emotional toll, leading to severe anxiety and depression. When you’re living with chronic pain, whether it’s from conditions like rheumatoid arthritis (RA), fibromyalgia, or nerve damage, alcohol can feel like a quick fix. It numbs the pain temporarily, making it easier to get through tough moments. At first, I was just using alcohol to take the edge off. It made the pain feel less intense, and for a little while, I could forget about how bad I was hurting. When nothing else worked, alcohol became my go-to because it gave me temporary relief. The catch was, the more I drank to manage my pain, the worse it got. It’s like my body became more sensitive to pain, and I had to drink more just to feel the same relief. When I tried to stop drinking, my pain came back full force.

It wasn’t until my Father passed away in May of 2021, did I realize that my body had become fully dependent on alcohol and withdrawal made everything worse. About a week after his death, I admitted myself into the ER, where I was immediately transferred to the ICU and diagnosed with Pancreatitis. After being released 5 days later, I returned to my bartending job and took no time to heal or grieve, only to begin this vicious cycle without even knowing it, within months all over again. By 2022, myself and those around me were officially scared for my life.

By some grace of God, I was finally able to get sober in April of 2023. I wanted to live, and I knew deep down quitting alcohol was my only choice. It was live or die, and I finally understood that eliminating alcohol from my life would give my body the chance to begin healing. I prayed that my nervous system could re-learn how to manage pain naturally, and that the inflammation would gradually decrease. Being that I was already battling another disease, the detox was even harder on my body, and was unable to repair itself the way a ’normal’ person’s would. Replenishing the essential nutrients that had been lost takes quite some time, and in my case special medical treatment. The realization of how depleted I was rapidly becoming was not only eye-opening, it was life altering.

At this point I was about 85 lbs, had severe neuropathy in my feet, and needed to use a walker at night and in the morning to get to and from the bathroom. Despite this, I had no choice but to immediately return to my full time job after coming home from the hospital once again, and did not take time to heal the way I should have. I could not afford to lose my job or my home. Now, due to all of the stress and inflammation that has accumulated in my body throughout this time, it has taken me over a year to gain a mere 5 lbs, bringing me to a heartbreaking weight of only 90 lbs. I am 5”1, and before I got sick, I was a strong and healthy 120 lb young woman.

Now, after almost 2 years of recovery, tasks like cooking, cleaning, and getting dressed are still challenging, and up until recently I could barely lift my camera. As most of you know, photography was not only my profession, but also my passion and always will be. With inflammation constantly lingering and flares being hard to predict, it is nearly impossible to maintain or try to rebuild my beloved business that I worked very hard to start after graduating with my BFA 9 years ago. Even when symptoms seem under control, inflammation can quietly return without warning. There is no set schedule or predictable pattern. Some people experience daily pain, while others may go weeks or months feeling relatively well. A person may feel fine one day and then struggle with severe joint stiffness and fatigue the next. Personally, I cannot remember a single day without pain for the last seven and a half years.

This past September, after just moving into a new apartment through the help of family and friends, I fractured my left wrist and elbow simply by tripping over a bag in my bedroom. After going for X-rays, a bone density scan was ordered, and I was diagnosed with Osteopenia—the precursor to Osteoporosis. On the outside, someone with RA might look perfectly fine, but inside, their immune system is attacking their joints. Fatigue, pain, and stiffness fluctuates, making it difficult for myself and others to understand what’s really happening. Consequently, this causes my body to constantly go in and out of fight or flight mode. This then creates high cortisol levels, leading to more pain and joint damage. There are so many treatment options available to help manage this, but inevitably, they cost money and are not covered by insurance.

Prior to my arm fracture, I was already being supported through unemployment and family help. When those funds ran out in January of this year, I had no choice but to finally apply for disability benefits. As I'm in the process of applying for these benefits, managing all of my various challenges has been extremely overwhelming. Despite my best efforts with food assistance and family support, it is only enough to keep me afloat. As debt is rapidly accumulating, the reality that disability is a slow, drawn-out journey that can take months or even years, is rapidly starting to affect me mentally and physically by the day. Every step takes forever, and there’s no way to predict how long I’ll be stuck in limbo.

Lastly, the reality of being denied for disability the first time you apply is almost to be expected, no matter how severe the case. Many have to go through appeals and hearings to fight for the benefits they desperately need. The waiting, the uncertainty, and the fear of denial weighs on me constantly.

This is where I need your help. Chronic pain isn’t just about physical discomfort—it’s a daily fight that affects every aspect of life, from mobility and self-care to emotional well-being. It’s like running a marathon every day without a finish line.

I never imagined I’d be in this position, but life has taken an unexpected turn, giving me no other choice but to ask for help to get through this difficult time. With your support, I can focus on managing my health without the constant worry of how I’ll keep going. Every contribution, big or small, makes a huge difference. If you’re unable to donate, I would be eternally grateful if you could share my journey with others who might be able to help.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. Your support, whether through a donation or simply sharing this fundraiser, means the world to me.