As I sorted through the laundry, I lifted my son’s favorite ‘hoodie’ shirt out of the basket and was about to throw it into the dryer, when I froze. Just for a moment, it was like everything around me stood still, but I saw the drawstrings from the shirt swinging like a pendulum. These are the moments when I feel like my heart is going to stop beating; these are the moments when I am overcome with sadness for all my son has endured because we didn’t know any better; these are the moments when I realize what a devastating disease Bartonella really is.

Several months ago, I admitted my son to an adolescent psychiatric hospital for his panic disorder. He was able to take his own clothing, which mostly consisted of the beloved hoodies, but all strings, chords, and ties had to be cut out of the clothing. Just the reminder, as I stood holding the new shirt in which the chord was still attached, brought tears to my eyes.

My son has always had anxiety, but this past year, his symptoms took on a life of their own. His anxiety became excessive fear complete with panic attacks. He has experienced school phobia to the point where he has only attended one full day this year. His energy level is practically nonexistent; when he does get a spurt of energy, he needs a full day to recuperate. His thoughts have been difficult to organize and express, and his concentration, well, let’s just say he struggles to concentrate.

All year, I have been trying to trust my instincts about my son’s illness, and before the Bartonella diagnosis this month, I was seen as the overprotective, enabling mother. I was even investigated for allegations of abuse. But still, I felt my son could not be pushed as much as everyone was suggesting. That’s not to say I didn’t lose it every so often, and I did think his illness was mental health related enough to put him in the hospital, the problem was, he wasn’t getting any better. If anything, he was getting worse.

His anti anxiety medications did nothing, his antidepressants made him more disconnected. He had one type of therapy, then another, until finally, no one really knew what technique to use.

At that point, some in the education world were suggesting my son should be readmitted to the psychiatric hospital, others are sending us to truancy court, and the rest just wish we would disappear. But here we are, and now we have a diagnosis, and a treatment, and a …plan?

Well, I will admit that I nearly cried with relief when the doctor informed us of the Babesia and Bartonella. I naively believed that this would put an end to the need to advocate for my son and educate others. I was exhausted from the battle I just endured in the mental health arena. I was looking forward to some understanding, and support, and dare I say, compassion.

Turns out, the world of Lyme disease and it’s not-so-friendly companions, is more of a nightmare than the mental health misunderstandings, disbeliefs, and accusatory stares. Even though Lyme disease, et al, are found in every single state, as well as around the world. Even though the symptoms that my son is experiencing are classic for the Bartonella virus, as is his tell-tale rash. Even though a year of treatment in the mental health field proved unsuccessful, which to me, is just more proof that the anxiety disorder was secondary to the Tick-borne illnesses.

And what about the fact that this is a very bright, engaging child who hasn’t been able to complete one homework assignment…or leave the house much? He’s isolated in a prison of an illness that has taken his energy, his cognitive ability, his easy going personality, and replaced it with a constant state of fight or flight, exhaustion, confusion, and a sadness that he can’t even express.

I can see from his expression that he is worried, sad, annoyed, and feels as though everyone is upset with him. He has essentially lost his 15th year. I’m stunned at what this disease is capable of doing in such a short amount of time, but I’m even more scared about what it will do in the future if it is not treated for what it is- the root cause of the other problems. I don’t understand why we treat all the secondary illnesses as separate, unique disorders. Does he really have medication-resistent anxiety, medication-resistent depression, therapy-resistant panic disorder, sleep-induced fatigue, and so forth? That makes no sense to me.

But, not much about this whole year makes much sense. I thought I had learned all there was to learn about anxiety disorders in teens, but, obviously, I didn’t learn all the causes for such disorders. Now, I have so much to learn about my son’s illnesses that I am overwhelmed.

What will help my son is for me to connect with those who understand these diseases, are brave enough to share their experiences, and can help us find the people and resources he needs in order to recover. What will help me is to share this journey as I go and hope someone who stumbles upon this page will find some answers for their own child.

I guess all I really have time for is a quick power-nap, as it seems these tick-borne diseases don’t want to sit around and wait to be officially recognized before wreaking havoc in my son’s body.