Why am I so dizzy?

It’s Sunday afternoon around 11 am, the sky is the perfect shade of blue, the sun couldn’t be brighter and I’m driving through the high-energy streets of LA.

Where am I going? I am en route to the local farmers market, my absolute favorite place to go on Sunday mornings. Why buy your eggs from Trader Joe’s when you can meet the farmer who will tell you detail by detail how they care for their chickens and let you know exactly where your food is coming from? Because you don’t care? Because it’s easier? Because they’re cheaper?

The sacrifices you make and short cuts you take today will end up costing you 10x down the line.

To be clear, I’m not here to brain wash you, try to sell you anything, convince you of what you should and shouldn’t do, or to make you feel badly about yourself and your choices. I am simply here to share my story, gift you some tips based on my own experiences and magnetize a bunch of hearts that align with mine to find each other among the ether.

Today I decided to go to Larchmont. Larchmont is a neighborhood I’ve been visiting since I was 14 years old. Around that time, my best friend moved to LA and I have the fondest memories of us bouncing around Larchmont Beauty Supply testing out every vanilla candle and body scrub we could find.

We would frolic the streets, get vegan doughnuts from “Babycakes” now known as “Erin McKennas Bakery” and giggle while getting our nails done at this cute little local salon. If you haven’t tried Erin McKennas, I highly recommend making your way there ASAP. Everything is gluten-free, vegan and unbelievably delicious. For the lucky ones who don’t have allergies, you won’t even be able to tell they’re allergen friendly because they taste that good. Get the maple doughnut (my personal favorite) or the lemon loaf and thank me later.

So, why am I so dizzy? I’m getting there, I promise.

I arrived around 11:15am and once I finally found a parking spot in the neighborhood nearby, this all-too-familiar sensation came over me. My heart started racing, my brain started moving at the speed of light and my eyesight became blurry. “Here we go again,” I thought.

I got out of the car and convinced myself everything was ok. “I am always dizzy, I just need some water and a snack and I’ll be fine.” I decided to head to one of my favorite cafes for a matcha before venturing over to the farmers market.

As I turned the corner into Larchmont Village, I was introduced to the most perfect pup named Milo. Milo is a white seemingly maltese mutt. He was wearing an “adopt me” bandana and had the most calming and sweetest energy.

I, on the verge of passing out, almost became the proud owner of a 7 year old dog. With great struggle, I refrained and continued on my journey to the cafe.

I absolutely took down the number of the lady who was fostering him and there are no promises here that Milo won’t be mine in the next few days, but today was not the day to welcome a new member into my family.

At last, I arrived at Go Get ‘Em Tiger, one of my favorite coffee shops that carries homemade nut milk. I ordered my usual iced house almond macadamia matcha with agave, and it was in my hands in less than two minutes. That is record time for Los Angeles, let me tell you.

Me, frolicking, matcha in hand, still thinking about Milo, crossed the street and thus arrived in farmers market heaven.

The best part of farmers markets, aside from all of the local vendors and taste testers, is the people. Especially on Sundays, that is where you will find humans in their prime. You’ll see families in matching sunflower outfits, dogs who look just like their owners and girls like me in matching Alo sets, ready for a basket of nectarines and overpriced pistachio butter that is debatably worth every penny.

The thing with invisible illnesses is, I may look like the other girls on the outside, but I often don’t feel like them on the inside. Sometimes I make it to Pilates and sometimes getting out of bed is my workout. Today, it was the latter.

Vision slightly blurry, heart still racing, I approached the pile of uniquely-shaped organic cucumbers. I grabbed two, soaked in the site of freshly-picked basil, grabbed one bunch alongside a gorgeous bouquet of cilantro, paid and made my way to the next farm stand.

I spotted my usual: vegan pesto made with the cleanest of ingredients - basil, garlic, spinach and olive oil. I gave a huge smile and paired my pesto with a gorgeous feta cheese wrapped in zataar and some green pitted olives.

As I strolled away, we arrived at the scary point. This is the part where I’m not sure if I’m actually going to pass out or if it’s just a close call where I try and push on even though I probably should’ve never left the house in the first place.

Alas, a lightbulb goes off in my head as I spy a cozy corner filled with a luxe variety of stone fruits. “My blood sugar must be low, let’s approach with ease and do a tasting, that will certainly help,” I say to myself.

Toothpicks, where are the toothpicks? Why aren’t there any toothpicks? Each second that goes by feels like forever before I can find a freaking toothpick. This kind man, I’d say about 82 years old, wearing a graphic tee with a face visibly imprinted with the beauty of life throughout every inch of it, points across the aisle and leads me in the direction of the toothpicks. Thank you sir, you may have just saved a life. (Ok now I’m just being dramatic for fun.. but this is truly what it felt like.)

I started with a sampling of a white nectarine, followed by a luscious peach, some dark pluots, a golden plum, a crisp apple (one of the best I’ve ever had) and then a variety of nut butters. I stood waiting for my lightheadedness to alleviate, but it wouldn’t seem to budge.  I treated myself to an apricot jam, some fancy pistachio butter and 2 white nectarines and decided it was time to head home.

BUT WHY AM I SO DIZZY?

There’s something you should know about me. If you don’t live under a rock, which I presume you do not, you’ve probably heard of Justin Bieber, Bella Hadid, Avril Lavigne and Justin Timberlake. Well, what if I told you we all had something in common? I may not be selling out arenas or be a supermodel on the cover of Vogue, but I do have something deeply personal in common with those 4 humans.

Sir Bieber, Miss Bella, Lady Avril and Mr. Timberlake and I all have Lyme Disease.

After 8 years of intense suffering with no answers, I was finally diagnosed in May of 2020. Getting diagnosed with a chronic illness at the age of 26 comes with a special sort of overwhelm. It’s a recipe I don’t wish upon anyone, yet it’s something I share with some of the biggest stars in the world.

For those of you who don’t know, Lyme disease is a tick-borne illness. You can only get it from the bite of an infected tick and if it’s caught early enough, there’s a high likelihood you will fully recover. If you’re one of the lucky ones like me who didn’t get diagnosed on time, it’s not so simple.

Here we are more than 5 years later and I’m still dizzy.

Why am I so dizzy? I have a chronic illness that likes to sneak up on me at very inconvenient times. I have been to more doctors than I can name, spent hundreds of thousands of dollars because our medical system doesn’t cover Lyme disease and have been through regimen upon regimen trying to heal.

Oh, and just so you know, Lyme wasn’t even recognized by the CDC as a real illness until LAST YEAR. AKA IT IS NOT COVERED BY INSURANCE AND THERE WERE 400,000 cases in the US last year alone.

I am coming to you live from club couch in the midst of a flare, likely brought on by an abundance of change, grief from losing my grandpa, heartbreak and the heat of summer (yes, heat flares Lyme unfortunately).

I’m going to be speaking a lot about this on here, so let’s just take today as a free sample of sorts. It’s like a small piece of a juicy white peach, filled with flavor, but a lot less fun.

If you are navigating an invisible illness, you, darling, are not alone. I see you, I’m with you, I am sending you so much strength and love. We mustn’t see our symptoms as a setback, more as a chance to slow down and recalibrate.

Being sick is a gift, it allows you to appreciate the smallest of blessings life has to offer.

I am blessed to be here, writing, sharing, no longer afraid like I was for so long. You are supporting me in my healing journey just by reading this here today. If you are still with me, you’re a real one.

With love and an aura of light,

Alexa 💡

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