I am glad I got neurological Lyme disease. That's not something most people say, I wouldn't have even said it while I was suffering the full effects of the disease. Yet, without it, I wouldn't be who I am today, so in that regard, I am forever grateful to that small tick who changed my life. Growing up, I was a curious and energetic student, but halfway through seventh grade was when I began to struggle with unexplained fatigue, brain fog, and a relentless feeling that my mind was no longer my own. As the school year went on, these symptoms got worse and worse, and I started getting depression-like symptoms and terrible muscle aches that kept me awake all hours of the night. My pediatrician prescribed Zoloft, which caused me to have suicidal thoughts. My parents took me to specialist after specialist and exhausted all their savings, paying out of pocket for tests. It took almost an entire year to be diagnosed. And, by then the Lyme disease had fully become neurological Lyme disease. The diagnosis process is tricky as there's no single definitive test for neurological Lyme. It often requires clinical evaluation, bloodwork, and ruling out other disorders. Later, I found out that when combined with a condition like autism spectrum disorder (which I was later diagnosed with) school, relationships and daily functioning can be deeply impacted and will take years to recover fully. While the infection and physical symptoms cleared with antibiotics, the lasting mental effects of antibiotics required more than medicine. I worked with a therapist and a team of people to help support me. One member of the team included a Neuropsychologist, who performed multiple tests once the infection cleared and, after obtaining collateral information from people who knew me prior to the illness and after, determined that I was on the autism spectrum. This was a game changer for my mental recovery because all the things holding me back that made me think I was "different" or "wrong" suddenly became just a part of my brain. I came to accept that my brain just functions differently, not wrong. With my therapist's help, I could strategize and work toward my potential. Living with two misunderstood and often invisible conditions has been as much a journey of self-discovery as one of resilience. Neurological Lyme disease robbed me of clarity and consistency; some days, I could power through advanced coursework, while on others, even holding a conversation felt overwhelming. It affected my memory, processing speed, and, at times, my mobility. Meanwhile, ASD presented its challenges: deciphering unspoken social rules, navigating group projects, and managing sensory overload in noisy environments. I became highly adaptable, learning to maximize the good days and develop systems for the hard ones. I taught myself to advocate for what I need—quiet time to recharge, clear communication, and academic flexibility when symptoms flared. My special interest in television—sparked by years of trying to distract myself from my pain—grew into a passion that grounded me even when my body and brain felt like strangers. Despite hospital visits and periods of cognitive decline, I maintained a strong academic record. I completed AP coursework. Neurological Lyme and autism haven't just challenged me—they've shaped how I see the world. They taught me to be patient, to persist, and to seek meaning in complexity.