Still "Indomitable"

I've really got to do some excavating.  I've got to dig her up.  The old "me" with the toned, thin, and totally immune body.  I'm painfully aware that nobody can see her.  Nobody knows her at all in my present world.  This is frustrating beyond words. 

While people often urge me to stop thinking of myself as so vulnerable to toxins (see my post of March 5th, 2012), the funny thing is, I never think of myself as "vulnerable!"  This may seem even funnier, but I think of myself as "indomitable."  And do you know something?  I'm not going to quit that habit.  I really need it. 

Let me translate.  I'm not speaking here of some kind of overblown vanity or frank conceit.  I'm speaking from the more innocent perspective of my previously well self.  I'm speaking from the perspective of many, many people who have never been blindsided by bodily reactions that go beyond the pale.  They feel well.  They can't imagine feeling poorly.  They've never had headaches, let alone agonizing ones.  They don't know what people mean when they say a room "stinks" of stale smoke odors.  They're more likely to say (as I used to say), "What odors?"

I used to think people were being "picky" or "prissy" when they so much as mentioned annoying odors.  

And yes, I am capable of turning this around and appreciating how people must see me these days.  Deep sigh.  Very deep.  As the saying goes, "I hear you."

But to recap -- I do not think of myself as "vulnerable."  I do, however, think of toxins embedded in common products as very, very harmful:   "Know thy enemy." 

And knowing my enemy does not make me a wimp.

There is a huge difference between recognizing the extent to which pervasive toxins are intrinsically harmful, and thinking of oneself as "intrinsically vulnerable!"

The mere fact that these toxins are now so commonplace makes their scope all the wider, their vast influence all the more insidious.  Their staggering power in numbers -- when they finally manage to penetrate our bodies' best defenses -- is therefore all the more formidable.

I think of toxins as toxins:  harmful to everyone -- not just to me.  Some of us, however, have run through our body's natural defenses sooner than others.  If some of us had long-term chemical exposures, the chemicals ran through our defenses for us.  The body is strong, but too many chemicals are way, way stronger.  If some of us had brief but large and intense chemical exposures, those chemicals, likewise, ran through our defenses for us.  If some of us were overdosed with antibiotics as a child (per the "old thinking"), the antibiotics ran through our defenses for us.  If some of us were subjected to severe, prolonged stress and/or frank trauma, those factors ran through our defenses for us.  (Cerebral nerve pathways, scientists are now finding, can be altered through psychological trauma.)  If both chemical exposures and severe stress/trauma befell some of us, all the more quickly did these things strip our defenses.  If, in such a case, we happened also to have received a preponderance of antibiotics as children . . . . .

It all adds up.  The more biologically insulting factors at play, the more quickly the body's admittedly generous defenses are stripped. 

None of this, however, implies an innate "frailty" of constitution or additional "vulnerability" on the part of our persons.  (Nor does it imply any kind of "morbid fear" or "hysteria.")  But then, what about genetics?  OK, let's grant genetics its place.  Despite the role of genetics, however, many people's genetic predisposition isn't "tipped in the negative direction" for quite a while, if ever.  Something external pushes them over that balance.  And the less toxins (and trauma) circulating around us, the better.

Toxic damage can happen to anybody.  It's always a rude and unthinkable surprise.  It stretches one's mind to the absolute limit.

Readers, I do appreciate this.  Never, for a second, do I forget it.  And I'm going to hang onto that core of myself which remembers gliding through life donning my favorite perfume and a smile, sailing into crowds with nary a care.

That, my friends, is me.  I'm going to keep believing in miracles.  Someday -- I don't know how -- maybe there really will be a way around this nightmare.  Just because we don't see it yet doesn't mean it's not there.

So, CHEERS!!!!

~ Carolyn