November 12, 2022

I would like to update you folks on what's going on here with me. I'm currently in a safe place where the days are at present warm, though the nights are cold. Im sleeping in the back of my truck and am ever so grateful to my mama for the advance of my inheritance. I asked her to please consider watching me heal while she was still living. So she agreed and made it possible for me to purchase this topper, and it has indeed changed my life. Unfortunately, i experienced my first rain and was disheartened to find that it leaks. It is a best case scenario however, as I am in the southern desert of California, where it rarely rains and will have a year to address the leak. (Please, oh please, don't let the air change. It is good for now, but you never know for how long.)

While the winds howl outside, i am delighted to be safely tucked in. It's my little glass room.Though small, it's a glorious capsule in which to view the world around me. And it sure beats being pulverized by sand and crawling in and out of a tent. I've gotta tell ya though, bathing is a real wake-up call on these chilly evenings. The next couple of months are going to be challenging for sure. Blankets and warm clothes, as well as gas, will be my biggest expense. I don't have heat, so I'll have to bundle up. It was 38° last night but will climb to 64° today which will be a welcomed reprieve.

I want to thank all of you for your donations, and i do wish those anonymous donors would make themselves known so that i may thank you appropriately.The big donations are so appreciated, though i must say those of you who have donated the smallest amounts have touched me in a way that really resonates. Of all the times as our economy fails, I am asking for help. We're all struggling.You're giving what you are able. You're making room for me in your lives with your support. Five dollars buys two bags of ice or five gallons of much needed water. I am ever so grateful.

A few months back. I was sitting in Wyoming warmed by big skies and comforted by the feathery blonde grasses, when after the passage of many years, I phoned a friend from another life. She had generously donated to my cause. I felt myself searching for a method of communication. My edges are worn and harsh in some ways but have softened in others. I am a broken recipe of a human as of now and in the midst of repair. It came out as a question without really being a question at all. "But look at what you've given up?" she pointed out. There was a gap stretching into an unknown chasm with no structure for a bridge. Formulating thoughts to capture my last several years made me out to be a lunatic. So many will never understand.

A few days ago, a woman, a stranger, approached me at the gas pump inquiring about my aluminum tow hitch. I carry three bins on this contraption.They are for hauling water and garbage. We were both astonished to discover we were suffering from the same illness, and she, too, was on this desert road to heal. It has become increasingly obvious.This is more common than i had thought. I interviewed her on the spot. We had both been poisoned by neurotoxins. I had been poisoned by stachybotrys, the known lethal ingredient for bio weapons. (google this )

I wanted to explain to my long-lost friend that there was nothing left for me to give up. All had been robbed from me in increments of time, persuading me that each new symptom could perhaps be attributed to the aging process or overexertion. Who considers their living environment as a threat? I had no choice in any of this. Either I was to stay and die or leave and live. Im reminding myself, as well as my readers, of what brought me here on this journey.

Inhabiting any building was clearly out of the question. I had given it my best shot. Shopping trips were a quick dash in and out.

This suffering had gone on for three years. The humiliation of having every joy stolen from me and dangling just out of reach had been heartbreaking and devastating for me. I was once a fireball of energy paving a path of vibrancy. I am healing though. My patience is tried, and sometimes I need reminding of how far I've come.

My livelihood was down the drain. Paints were too toxic to use. I could no longer eat the feasts I'd prepared. I was having trouble with the preparation as well. The sequence, the measurements of the meals i had made time and time again for thirty years or more, were a challenge for me now. I would be driving and not recognize any of the landmarks I had known for decades. My fanciful, artist clothes compromised my lungs, causing me to wheeze and my skin to itch. The jewelry was a nuisance, as it irritated my skin. I was then sent to allergists. My vision was unreliable and was extremely sensitive to light to the point that I wore prescription sunglasses every day, both indoors and out. Eye doctors saw nothing but inflammation. My ears picked up every sound, from the clicking of registers to the chattering and blaring of loud speakers to the drip of a faucet.

Sounds were all lumped together in a cacophony of layers so that none were discernable.The challenge to formulate sentences to match my thought processes was a trial. The migrains were a constant. I had numerous brain scans. My heart beat wildly and scarily irregular, so was referred to cardiologists. Every joint in my body ached as if I were a hundred years old. Rhemotologists agreed it was inflammation as well.This was from the lyme. So many of us were bedridden or in wheelchairs.

For this reason, I got up and walked nearly three miles every day. Vertigo brought on nausea. I held onto the walls to make it into another room. My hands and feet curled involuntarily into painful spasms. My throat and nasal cavities were bloody and raw. I moved into a brand new house I was never able to furnish. I tried, but every item i purchased had to be returned. Most furniture is made from formaldehyde, which exacerbated my symptoms. For an entire year, i sat in a fold out metal chair.

I could never wash anything because all detergents were too toxic for me to inhale, even after the clothes had dried.

I never even found a toilet seat in the time I lived there. The plastic composites were too strong for me to tolerate. The wooden ones had permeating varnishes. I could go on and on, but the reality is that no one could fathom this unless it happened to you. More than anything. I was tired, unimaginable exhaustion, and could not sleep from the pain and the anxiety of not being able to breathe. This is what it means to have the rug ripped up right out from underneath of you.

You did everything the doctors told you, all of them. You took the supplements, you sought counseling, you did the brain retraining exercises, you got the air purifier and the dehumidifier. You lost your hair. You bought the wigs. You made it through one more winter through the generosity and kindness of friends. But then springtime came through the soil, and you knew your hair was going to fall out again...this time taking with it the last of your sanity. You had been here before.

Not wanting to live a single day of those three years is what makes you want to give an entirely different spin on life a chance.The survivors took a leap of faith. I wanted to be brave like they were. At first, i, too, thought they were crazy. But now i see they were doing what needed to be done because I have seen the results.

I really meant it when I said, "This was it. Sink or swim." I had been trapped in dwellings continuously where after a couple of months, i knew i had to get out. I needed to live outdoors in the best air I could find, so there would be the least amount of threat to VOCs. It crept up like a bad dream in which you attempted to flee the evil, be it a snake or monster. You find yourself heavy and unable to budge.You call out, but not even words will come.The oxygen is once again in short supply.

This is when you wake up and through your untrustworthy vision, they are taunting you, you see them pointing to you. They are pointing out your weakness saying you are unsafe and you need pills to get through this.Knowing pills will not bring the air and the clarity of mind you need, through the blur of welling tears, you decide to leave with only the clothes on your back in a one-way rental car in search of a place where you can breathe, and when the air fails you, you can get back into your car and find better air. And you will keep climbing for air until you reach the top where you are once again whole.

You see your prizes. They come in deep breaths, strong legs, and a clear and confident mind.

Though you are wearing layers of clothing under layers of covers, you wait for the sun to rise so that your warm breath hitting the cold air is no longer visible. Then you will pull back the blankets, rise for several hours in the day where there will be more prizes that come in doses like those of luminescent rising moons and setting suns and palm trees in the snow. Thank you for reading. Please consider donating if you are able.

https://gofund.me/9b563122