I currently aim to write a blog post at least once a month. Those of you who have followed me from the start know that the rate at which I wrote was sometimes daily. Well why has the rate dropped so drastically? Well, to be blunt.. I'm healing.
The other day I had visited the local health food store in search of a specific trace mineral known as Molybdenum. If you've never heard of it, don't beat yourself up. Molybdenum's popularity in the world of minerals is comparable to that of the white crayon in the crayon box. It exists but people tend to avoid it as it only serves useful under the appropriate circumstances. Today was different though as my circumstances warranted the use of the white crayon.
As I would later learn, I was herxing bad but not from Lyme Disease. Oh no, this recent state of debilitation is credited entirely to candida die off. For so long, I questioned the ineffectiveness of standard detox methods (e.g., epsom salt bath, sauna, burbur) I had been utilizing to reduce a suspected Lyme Disease die off. These methods of detoxification took the edge off but for a reason that had since eluded me, their detrimental effects remained.
I had an incredibly vivid dream last night that has left me contemplating its reason well into the morning after. Most of my dreams are intense and colorful much like the one I had last night, but the impression this one has left allows it to just linger in my mind as the day goes on.
I can't remember every exact detail of the dream but I specifically remember knocking on a childhood friend's door who lived around the block from me years ago. Though my friend and his family no longer live in that house, I specifically remember thinking, while I waited for the door to be answered, how my friend has changed since I've last seen him.
The inner door was open, thus allowing a view into the house through the screen door. I remember watching my friend approaching the door and wondering what has changed about him.
As he came to the door, I specifically remember telling him that I needed to talk with him. I needed someone to hear me out because I was reeling from none other than the struggle with this plague. The astounding thing is that I'm never one to reach out to another in real life but here in my dream, I was reaching out to an old childhood friend for solace. I needed his compassion and understanding for what I have been enduring.
What happened directly after that is a blur to me but following this event, another childhood friend appeared at the house as well as an ex-girlfriend. This new childhood friend was in a band, much like I used to be in real life but this child hood friend in real life has no musical experience. In fact he is a hunter. He was preparing the band for the singer, which was my ex-girlfriend and again, my ex-girlfriend is in no way a singer in real life.
During most dreams, there is an emotional attachment to it. I specifically remember feeling like a failure at life after hearing my childhood friend mention he was in a band.
These were just the critical parts of the dream that continue to linger in my head as the morning progresses on this rainy day.
The fundamental emotions I gather from the dream are desperation and failure, but these weren't the factors that attracted me to the mystery of the dream. Oh no, it was actually the presence of people I had been extremely close with long ago. Forget the roles they were even playing in my dream, it was their presence alone that left me curious. In a essence, I became nostalgic for the relationship I once I had with these profound people.
Well I didn't think I'd be herxing this bad almost 10 months into treatment but I am. The healing process with Lyme Disease is very strange and unique. I find that bad days will remain as debilitating as they will ever be no matter how far you've progressed with treatment. In between the bad days are good days and they're a little different. They seem to be more enjoyable as treatment progresses which has been my only indication through out all of this fight that I am exponentially getting better.
The Oil of Oregano is really kicking the crap out me
I hope this makes sense
I'm sitting here at the computer screen completely zoned out
I'm struggling to find the words
I feel like a zombie
Your exterior is never an honest reflection of your insides
If only my face could truly paint how I feel
If for a moment I could transpose my being to someone else
Only then would they realize the pain
I would stare at them
They would tell me to take it back because it was unbearable
For a moment I would live in a body without plaque
As unimaginable as it would leave, I'd take it back
For this is my struggle
This is their understanding
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The LyBlog will focus on my personal battle with chronic Lyme disease,