Last year I started a fundraising campaign for my future treatments. At the time, I had no idea what exactly to expect, so sharing that request publicly filled me with fear. Asking for help was not easy for me. I had never been in such a situation before, and I had never done anything like this. So many anxious thoughts kept circling in my mind: What will people think of me? How will their image of me change if they find out that I am ill, vulnerable, and struggling?
Despite these fears, I eventually managed to overcome them. I had to realize that in this situation I needed to use the resources available to me , simply because I had no other choice. Very quickly, the power of community revealed itself: around 500,000 HUF was raised, for which I am endlessly grateful. To me, this was a clear message that “I do not have to walk this path alone.” I would like to sincerely thank everyone who supported me!
Naively, I believed this amount would be enough to cover my treatments. Over time, however, it became clear that the costs would be significantly higher. Still, this support represented a huge step forward. It allowed me to pay for various medical examinations and consultations. Thanks to these, my condition became clearer, as well as the direction I need to move towards.
The donations were used for the following:
– Medical consultation with a Lyme specialist
– Laboratory tests
– Gynecological examinations
– Consultation with a doctor specializing in autoimmune diseases
– Food intolerance testing
– Support from a naturopath and lifestyle consultant experienced in Lyme disease
– The biggest expense was a 210,000 HUF Vibrant Lyme test from the United States, which is currently considered one of the most reliable tests for detecting Lyme disease and its co-infections
– Most recently, I consulted with the doctor who will oversee my upcoming treatment
Originally, I planned to undergo treatment in Slovakia. However, after long consideration ( and taking my financial situation into account) I decided to begin the treatment here in Hungary.
Down, but still in the game
Last year was not only about fundraising and medical testing. To be honest, I experienced a severe crash. My condition deteriorated to such an extent that there was a point when I genuinely believed I would not live to see the next year. My body became extremely hypersensitive . Now I react even to certain makeup products, I cannot dye my hair because it immediately triggers allergic reactions, and I can count on one hand how many types of food I am able to tolerate. In the apartment where I was living, we discovered signs of mold, and even this had such a strong impact on my body that I had to leave my home. At the same time, I also lost my job too. Xmas time were far from peaceful or heartwarming for me : I had to switch into survival mode. I went from doctor to doctor, praying that I would be able to endure the next day… and the one after that. Around January, I finally began to feel a slight sense of relief. Since then, my life has started to resemble a wandering hippie documentary. I currently have no stable job and support myself through occasional work while trying to rebuild my life. Because of my condition, full-time employment is not an option, so I am actively looking for part-time opportunities, preferably remote or hybrid.
My safe haven: modeling
There is a space where, for a while, I can forget that I am ill. A place where I can step out of the multitude of symptoms, fears, and the constant pressure of survival. When I stand in front of the camera, I can exist in the role I want to embody. I become part of a story. I transform into different characters. In those moments, my illness no longer defines me. The focus shifts from what I cannot do to what I can still express and reveal about myself despite everything. I enter a state of flow where, even if only briefly, the pain softens into background noise. Modeling is not just work or a hobby for me , it’s a powerful form of self-expression. A channel. A gateway into another dimension where I can experience who I might be beyond diagnoses. Perhaps this is one of my strongest anchors right now: discovering that there are spaces where life is not only about survival.
When you have to fight on two fronts
Living with Lyme disease and its co-infections for years is already incredibly exhausting. It affects not only the digestive, hormonal, and nervous systems, but also brings significant psychological challenges. But when a mental disorder is added to all of this, the combination becomes particularly difficult. So I want to be honest: I have borderline personality disorder. This is not new , it has been part of my life for a long time. For years I struggled with whether to speak openly about it. The fear was always there: What will people think? However, the physical deterioration I experienced last year ( and that still continues in many ways ) changed something inside me. I realized that I want to exist as authentically and truthfully as possible. If sharing my vulnerability can help even one other person, then speaking up is already meaningful.
At the beginning of this year, I started attending a skills-focused group therapy specifically designed for BPD. This helps me with emotional regulation, recognizing triggers, and managing intense impulses. I am deeply committed to change — but that does not make this path any easier.
It is especially challenging when physical and mental struggles reinforce each other. This state is exhausting both mentally and physically. In times like these, emotional safety becomes invaluable , knowing there is someone on the other side you can truly rely on. Someone who reassures you that they will not disappear, that you can turn to them, and whose presence helps you stay grounded. One of the most liberating experiences for me now is having someone in my life I can call , someone who takes me seriously, validates me, and keeps their word.
An old dream taking shape
Meanwhile, a project I have dreamed about for a long time is finally beginning to take form. Thanks to the support of a kind acquaintance, it may now become reality. A documentary about Lyme disease is currently in development : one that will not only tell my story but also the struggles of many others living with this condition. It aims to give voice to experiences we have kept silent about for too long: misunderstandings, misdiagnoses, uncertainty, and the often painful indifference encountered within the medical system or even in our own surroundings. For me, it means a big deal that we finally have the opportunity to speak up, share our stories, and make visible what has remained hidden. It feels empowering to know that our fight will not remain silent and that it may offer hope, understanding, or support to others.
A beautiful rise from here
Since I currently have no stable job and am unable to work full-time due to my condition – at best only part-time in a gentle and sustainable way- I must face a difficult reality: I need to continue fundraising. My treatment is expected to be a long process : it may last one, two, or even three years. While the total cost cannot yet be calculated precisely, I will likely need around two million HUF. This includes antibiotic therapy, probiotics, supplements, medical consultations, laboratory tests, and most likely psychiatric and therapeutic support as well. This journey will be extremely demanding not only physically but mentally too. To be completely honest, I am terrified of long-term treatment because my symptoms may intensify significantly. I also have to consider that I may become even more limited in my ability to work for a period of time. Yet this path might finally give me the chance to experience what it feels like to truly live again – to eat freely, to move, to hike, to make plans and actually carry them out. To simply exist in my own life and body without constant pain and symptoms.
“You cannot wish for both strong character and an easy life. The price of each is the other.” — Alex Hormozi
This quote reminds me that, at some point, we must choose between growth shaped by struggle and the comfort of staying unchanged. Strong character is not formed on easy roads, it’s often built among ruins, again and again. And next time… I might just ask the universe for a slightly more comfortable incarnation.