Hello there,

It's been quite some time and also not long at all. The changes that have occurred in this time frame are numerous and life-altering. Truth be told, I'm not even sure where I left off in my last update here, so I'll start with what I know to be true right now, and hope the rest of the details come out in the process.

Right now, I am sitting in a room in my partner's apartment, my two kitties sleeping on the bed next to me. My mom is in town and will be leaving tomorrow. Today, we will sort through the remainder of my belongings in the garage and decide what stays, what goes to thrift stores, and what gets trashed/recycled. The bed, this desk and it's contents, the chair, this laptop, various other objects strewn through this apartment, as well as a few boxes in the garage... make up everything I "own" right now. Stuff is just stuff. And also, when such a massive purge happens in such a short amount of time, it feels... odd. Gutted. 

In mid-October, I was told by my previous landlord, that I had just about 5 days to vacate the moldy basement I had been living in for five years (but hadn't inhabited to since early Sept due to my diagnosis), explicitly going back on written email agreements we had made the previous month. After pointing this out, she agreed to extend it to our originally agreed upon time, with no discussion about whether I would continue to house my belongings further, which was again in direct contradiction to what she previously agreed on.

I somehow managed to rally an amazing team of 2 friends and my partner to help clear everything out of my old home. At least 500 pounds of my belongings went to the dump, the rest went to my partner's garage. I spent approximately 4-5 hours each weekend day in the house with my N95 mask on and every window and door open, sorting through all of the things with these humans that  I love. This amazing team was unfortunately not able to finish all of the cleaning that weekend, so my rockstar friend came and finished it up all of their own, including scrubbing an oven that had been left completely dirty when I moved in. They spent several hours there, without me because of timing and mold-exposure. I lost so much that weekend, and also was reminded about the relationships in my life that matter the most. Unfortunately, my previous landlord described the place as "quite dirty," and deducted from my security deposit. I don't have the energy to say more about that story now.

I acknowledge that I am writing this while in a very dark place, crawling around in the shadows, and I acknowledge that there have been shining moments of brilliance that I am unable to reach or feel right now. Right now, it's like this. And that's okay, too. 

After spending at least 4 days and 10+ hours in the moldy  basement, as well as spending time in an airbnb (my mom came to stay with me the last 3 weeks and got an airbnb for me and cats to stay in with her... and it ended up being moldy), I experienced my first re-exposure symptoms. My doctor and I put the puzzle pieces together, recognized the familiar symptoms and the quick onset: dizziness, heart palpitations, body aches, shortness of breath, ringing in ears, teeth pain, seeing stars/spots in my vision, nausea, headaches. We recognized these symptoms, but only after I experienced a bout of vertigo while sitting on the floor with the child I nanny for (babe was okay and parents were there to take over - thanks pandemic?). 

Okay, I can't anymore with the writing today. I've more to write about - positive MARCoNs and strong biofilm and prescription on the way, kitty vet visit, car in the shop to get detailed and being overcharged, mold testing kits sent to multiple locations in this country, watching everything I own pretty rapidly go away, confused stares and questions when I tell people what's going on, learning that I might be on the mold-binder medication for life, forgetting more and more and then less and less, learning about the "VIP" (heh, yes, VIP) treatment nasal spray to regenerate brain tissue that the mold has destroyed, no home yet (just temporary resting places with much turmoil), a new challenge or twist/wrench in the plans/recovery process every day, not feeling human most days and then doing "normal" things like going to a pumpkin patch and the cognitive dissonance that accompanies, recognizing how FUCKING MUCH it takes to just be here in this body right now.

It's funny, whenever I would have those conversations with people about what I would do when the apocalypse arrives, whether it be natural disaster, virus (heh), whatever... I often would say that I'd just want to take the easy way out and die, because why the fuck would I want to survive that. What I didn't realize is that I've been in the midst of my own personal apocalypse at least the last 6 years or so and I somehow have proven the exact opposite. My will to live is so incredibly strong, my instincts fine-tuned. For some reason, I want so badly to still be a part of this world that I am fighting tooth and nail and gut and brain and heart and all the other parts of this body that are riddled with mold... in order to still be here.

Okay, I really think I'm done with the words for today. Thanks for reading my latest spew :)