I’ll tell you that much. Heavy metal poisoning changed me. I am now a vegan, not by faith – Forced:

I have food allergies, I have low sex drive and I have autistic episodes. Even though I cleaned myself of heavy metal poisoning.

The last test I had no signs of heavy metals whatsoever.

Still, I can’t eat gluten, soy, eggs, dairy, meats, fish, seafood or alcohol.

The hardest thing for me are celebrations.

At work today, I was given a sort of cupcake. I am not quite sure what it is because I just know it has wheat in it.

Then co-workers did a group lunch.  I didn’t go.

I wanted to but to eat a salad and come out more hungry than ever. It just hurts me to see people eating things. I feel isolated, punished.

I remember all the fool allergy episodes I had. I can’t relax, I have images of me all four in my face. The many celebrations I ended up on the floor totally disoriented, like drunk. I remember people all of the sudden talking to me and no words could come out of my mouth.

I remember

I can’t live like this. Should I accept it?

I am very isolated. Yes I could go and eat a salad. And be more hungry than my every day hunger for food.

I remember when I used to fight this by will. I would say, I will celebrate and have fun anyway – I will belong with my friends. Would go out, eat and have the worst episodes, slurred speech, foggy thoughts, blank mind.

A real nightmare.

I remember when I used to be quite popular in high school. Of course I would eat and drink like a goat and a sailor respectively. I was invulnerable to anything I’d put in my mouth.

I had lots of friends.

Now I find it hard. It’s almost like  being broke.  You can’t go out. Of course I could force myself and go. I do when I have to. When my boss takes me out to lunch. Hard to refuse.

Of course I have a very limited number of friends that know about my condition and that I would feel safe going out with. Because they are as concerned as I am with what to put in my mouth. So they won’t tell me, have a drink, or tell us what you can eat really. That’s not fun to tell them what I can eat is what Robocop eats in the movie, if you remember. It looks like s**t. It’s definitely not appetizing. It’s pure survival.

So what do I do about it. I put it out there. So Chlorellaman knows  I need his help again, someone, something. Please. We are not meant to be alone. I want to partake graciously.

Love,

me.