Throwback Thursday: One Year Ago, I Needed a Cane to Walk

September 11, 2024 – 7:55am

It was a busy morning with traffic.
I couldn’t cross the street.
I heard a woman scream, “Do you need help? Can I call someone?”

Like I always do, I said, “I’m okay.” Because I’m a Type A, shy good girl, parentified firstborn daughter. - can you relate?

But my strong, capable body collapsed on the crosswalk heading to my high school where I was headed to de-stress on the track, in silence with mother nature.

That moment is a blur, though I know my son helped me home.
From that moment on my strong personal trainer body needed a cane to walk.

My body had reached its tipping point—after years of SIBO, mould illness, three rounds of COVID (the most recent lasting six weeks from June to July 2024), chronic stress and loving someone who couldn’t love himself enough to love me back.

All while carrying the silent weight of being a parentified parent with a leaky body and multiple sexual traumas.

I had MS-type symptoms.

I’d been living with colon cancer type symptoms since 2013.
And yet, I was still giving.
Still helping others heal.

The day before, I was discarded by someone I’d loved for over eight years.
A few days before that, my doctor dismissed my symptoms as “mental health”—after checking in with my ex and asking him what he thought.
You can guess the answer.

I share this not to shame but to share the chronic stress of the shy parentified first born. The ex and I had a pact.

My mom had been institutionalized in mental hospitals, but it wasn’t mental—it was mould.

I knew that because of Linda, a firefighter who helped me connect the dots when no doctor could.

Right when my body was seizing, my low blood pressure was through the roof and I was scared in the doctor’s office.

My body does that when I’m not safe.

Neither the ex nor the doctor has apologized for discarding me in my darkest hour.

I send love anyway.
Why?
Because I am part of the solution for peace on earth.

There’s no talking to narcissists—they’re always right, you’re always wrong, and they only want to hear themselves talk with no solution.

The harm they caused me... you know if you’ve been following my story.

A doctor prescribed my first antibiotic at 58 without a probiotic, while I was choking in my sleep and unable to swallow, get out of the tub, unable to write, hold a pen, type or speak without coughing—because of a leaking lung.

That’s why I created the Buddha Berry Peace Tree Method™.
Because when no hospital or doctor could help me while I was dying, I did.

My late mom and I have been battling leaky body syndrome since birth.

And I’m sharing this because I don’t want anyone else to suffer alone like I did.

I’ve always been a quiet, introverted observer—healing my body without synthetic medicine.
Only nature.
Because I know what man-made meds do to our tissues.

To the single, health minded sober parents who have sick kids
and doing all the right things—
eating clean, moving gently, meditating, checking in with others, sending out loving kindness prayers—this is for you.

I see you. I am you.
I made a video to show you that there is hope. You are not broken. You are overloaded.

Watch the video here:

Our bodies and environments are overloaded with trauma and toxins.

If you were the firstborn, raised in a tense home,
your body has been leaking since the womb.
Like mine.
And if you’re a Type A go-go-goer, you’ve probably never learned how to pause or stretch after a workout :)

A wise soul, Fred reminded me:
Our relationships are unfinished business from childhood.

I also say, like attracts like.
And healing begins when we stop running and start pausing.

On December 31st, 2024—just four months after that collapse—
I no longer needed a cane.
I detoxed the trauma and toxins from my tissues.
I reversed life-threatening leaky muscle.
I created the Buddha Berry Peace Tree Method™ to help heal our leaky bodies, brains and muscles—and to help our kids heal too.

I’ve reversed all my mental health struggles, including suicidal ideation I carried since I was 5.

I’ve connected misophonia to a gene in my brain that heightens suicide risk in 16-year-old girls and 24-year-old boys.
Add mould, toxic homes and stressed relationships—and the risk climbs higher.

I am being blocked on socials.
I am not selling anything but inner peace with mother’s nature’s help.

This thankful Thursday, I give thanks to Mother Nature, my wise Buddha Berry Tree and my breath.

Without them, I wouldn’t be here.

You are love.
You are peace.
You are energy.
How is yours?
You are not alone.
Healing starts here.

Sending loving kindness from Canada’s capital,
Momma Lovey Dee
aka Mom to Noah :)
Everything I share is for my boy and You xo