Plastic, But Not Dying

Good day, Friends,

I must have managed to eliminate a major chemical trigger either directly or by fortuitous accident, because I'm much less disabled this week than in many previous weeks.  I'm still wrestling with that baseline impact on my overall balance and coordination, and some milder headaches which respond readily to ibuprofen -- but so far, nothing cataclysmic. 

I'm just very stunned and dazed, tired and dopey.  But this week I'm not dying.  I'm down on myself, though, because I'm resting, or just so very sluggish in the aftermath of several cataclysmic weeks.  Now if I could get, say, eight weeks of same . . . and be given permission to lie around when needed, take leisurely strolls -- and naps -- upon impulse, and not be exposed to any more chemicals -- who knows how much better I'd feel?

I have not yet even confronted the issue of "best water to drink" or any water filtration system whatsoever.  I suspect I probably should, and soon.  Our water is essentially benign but filled with extra iron.  I've been drinking water out of standard supermarket (clear) plastic gallons.  I'm probably something equivalent to a walking piece of plastic, with skyrocketing levels of estrogen.  It rather feels that way.  Alarming, but I can't give into alarm when there are so many things -- if I were really to focus on them which, due to brain fog, I can't  -- to be alarmed about.

I'm just too . . . tired.  I would have liked to write you something more vibrant today, but perhaps this will do just as well because it is, in fact, reality.

And, given the increasing accounts of toxic injury and the dizzying layers of toxins multiplying in our environment, reality is precisely what we need to face.

Cheers!

~ Carolyn