Living Out Of A Toyota Yaris Hatchback
Just a little check in
Late today. Wasn’t even sure if this was happening, but I seem to have figured out how to do a mobile hot-spot, so here goes. I’m currently living out of my car, and yeah, it’s better. A lot better. I tried sleeping in the yard, but I was still being hit with whatever has taken over my house. Then the neighbors decided to burn their pressurized wood leftovers from the crap they pulled out of their old edition, and that was it. I had to leave.
Kept thinking something like camping, but really, shit is expensive. Like, rent level expensive just to hang at a campsite. So yeah, you can sleep overnight in any Walmart parking lot and they don’t charge a fee *snort* and during the day I can go hang in much prettier areas, and ideally, once the swelling in my brain is down, I’ll be able to write again.
I had to stop lying to myself and be upfront. I’m allergic to my house, and staying there was making me allergic to fucking everything. EVERYTHING. Still can’t tell you the name of whatever the hell it is setting me off, but at least now we know it’s a chemical. Oh, right!
So I didn’t tell you. It’s been a busy week. I got an early appointment with my doctor! Oh, such a relief. She’s certain it’s either mold toxicity (cuz of my history) or a chemical exposure. We’re checking other things as well such as Mast Cell Activation. I just sent out for some home test kits to see if we can identify what chemical might be in the house or if it’s a VOC or something mold creates. All the symptoms though are straight out of a damn worker’s guide to health and safety for chemical exposure. I left the house for 24 hours, returned, and literally felt the air burning (through my mask) and stinging my tongue and throat. When I said it felt like the air was burning against my hand, hot to touch? Yeah, that’s sign of a chemical being there.
So this is after a week of running an air scrubber, of washing every damn surface down, of sealing my bedroom in a no VOCs plastic seal to keep anything from gassing out of the walls or floor. Nothing had touched this thing; it was still hovering in the damn air like a fucking phantom. Called a poison control # to see if they had any tips of what to do, how to remove it, who to call—nothing. We could call a home inspector, I guess, but yeah, no one really cares if you have something poisoning you in your house. You’re on your own.
It was my wake up call. I realized that was it. Whatever this is, I don’t have the ability to remove it, or the ability to disperse it at this time, and I’m not about to live with the shit. So I took the only option and left. Still a few things to grab from the house—making a list atm—and then I’m just not going back until I know it’s safe. I need a chance to heal and every exposure to that shit keeps me from getting better.
My head is better when I’m out of the house. Not just the pain and insanity of that, but my thought processes and mood. This move felt like an impossibility yesterday. We went to visit my bf’s parents and see if I might fair better at their place. It was an interesting discovery not only of all the chemicals the average suburban home douses in every day for no damn good reason outside of they saw a commercial and really needed the grass to be the same shade of green, but also a very emotionally trying time. Although I can be compassionate and considerate toward their cancer and lung problems, I in return am laughed at for wearing a mask to breathe and not seeing a ‘real’ doctor—my doctor has practiced alopathy (mainstream medicine) as well as alternative solutions with a focus on chronic conditions the main medical field ignores because they’re just too hard to solve, but, you know, that’s not real because they’re not in the ‘system’ these people all live in.
I do not miss living in that old system. I forgot how pervasive those messages were. I can walk into a supermarket in a mask where I’m currently living and people might look, but they get it, they see someone with a condition. They know people are different and they aren’t wasting every moment of their day trying to look, dress, sound, act and just front the way they think people want them to be. When I walked into a store in the town where I used to live, people think I’m being an asshole, or looking for attention, or a psycho creep who’s going to go on a murdering spree. These people have their televisions turned on 24-7 and they don’t know the real world anymore and they are fucking miserable to be around. They are trying so fucking hard to be someone or thing, and they are dismissive and judgmental to anyone who isn’t playing the same boring ass game.
Illness is isolating enough. I have had absolute strangers far more accepting of what I’m going through than his family, because hey, strangers don’t feel the need to judge me every fucking time they see me. You know how some people just exist, and live, and it’s okay? Yeah, not with these people. You have to have an opinion about people instead, you have to decide they’re right or wrong or doing wrong or wasting their lives, etc. You can’t just ‘be’ with these people, and it’s exhausting. But whatever. It was toxic on a different level and more shit to avoid right now.
The doc thinks if I can flush whatever has built up in my system out, the multiple chemical sensitivity will heal itself and I won’t need to be in a mask as much. At first I didn’t truly believe it, but just being out of the house, I can see that scents aren’t hurting me as much as before. I can sweat again, my tears sting like acid, but I know it must be the chemical clearing my body. I just need to wait on some of the meds that help this shit along, and go from there and try to detox the chemicals out. I keep shaking though, which is new the last few days and really uncomfortable. My whole body keeps shaking, these tremors like I’m frozen but it’s not temperature related. I read somewhere it could just be a sign of chemical overexposure. It’s unsettling but hasn’t killed me yet. At least the twitching has pretty much stopped; like a spasm in random parts of my body. Very fun.
I’m doing a lot of figuring out how to live like this at the moment. Boring, mundane stuff you don’t think of, like where are clean bathrooms open 24-7, and getting a little propane stove really isn’t going to do shit if I don’t actually buy a damn pan to put on it. XD But I’m feeling pretty chill. I can’t imagine what this would have been like for me when I still had the PTSD—lol, actually I kinda can. I’ve been homeless before and far less empowered during that time, and the anxiety is far more a drain on the body than reality any day. This is fine. I have a nice car, there are plenty of scenic views around where I live combined with city and suburbs and plenty of wifi points and coffee shops with charging stations. And I’m not in pain or being poisoned—what more can you really ask for? It’s all good. What really is the measure of your life, the stuff you carry around with you or the shit you do? As long as I can create the things I love to create, it’s all good.
Art might actually be out for now though cuz I don’t think I’ll be running my PC out of my car any time soon. I might be able to do art on the laptop, I’m just not sure if it could run something like photoshop… Hmm. Food for thought for the future. I will need to have book covers eventually…
Hey, I managed to read a book finally cuz of all this. Ready Player One. Slow start but damn, it was a fun ride. <3 Hope you’re all having a fine summer so far. Gah, and stay out of the sun. It was a burning ball of fire today. Like, legit. XD