Need A Time Out
When You Can't Make Yourself Healthy Again, Because It's Not Bio-Chemical
I have to formally declare a hopefully short publishing hiatus.
A few days.
It’s better to state things openly and precisely I feel, rather than say something short and corporate. (Appropriate.)
I still have a chest infection, trouble breathing (asthma like) and exhaustion. The exhaustion leads to a falling asleep very readily, slightly akin to narcolepsy. It’s been a couple of weeks now. I have done every single thing (yes, including chlorine dioxide, including hydrogen peroxide via nebulizer, garlic, lemon, cayenne, C, zinc, D, etc.)
I’m seeing a trusted doctor today, a normal doctor, yes.
If he says I should take an antibiotic, will I?
This is not about me.
Like you, I believe in the body’s self healing abilities, it’s just that I’m stuck.
Day in day out week in week out—nothing changes. I did have two days of feeling I had recovered but I regressed after getting overly active.
The devastating effect of this ‘thing’ whatever it is is that it has opened up portals to things I had before, like the D word, like CFS, even old ghosts like asthma.
I need to ask a big big favor: Please make no suggestions for what I should take or do. I have, and this is not a bio-chemical situation.
I have done all of it.
This situation is about lowered immunity due to a series of shocks, with themes like verbal abuse, gaslighting, and intense fear and trauma.
Heart chakra collapse.
Not understanding who people are, or what their words mean, until it is too late.
This post is also not about what they have sprayed over the skies, what I was poisoned by, or whether there is a new bio-weapon-ey thing “going around.”
It’s entirely about loss of connection, loss of trust, loss of clue.
Repressed emotions.
You can put knock knock jokes or cat videos in the comments though—I will read and watch.
You all will maybe never know what you mean to me.



A vulture with 2 dead racoons under his wing stands at the check-in desk at the airport. The agent behind the desk says, "I'm sorry sir, only one carrion allowed."
You are a precious blessing Celia. Please get better soon. 🙏🙏