Emergency Back to Health Fund for Krystin Clark

Krystin Clark - is my magickal friend, a beautiful woman of laughter, love, art, truth and integrity. One of the finest humans I have known. She was poisoned. You read that correctly. She is still very very sick and needs help. She is staying in a motel as her now toxic home is uninhabitable, she is burning through her savings, will need hyperbaric chamber therapy (off coast of course) lymph node massage and other various costs like food (the food in her fridge rotted away) and time to recover.

The following is her account of what happened:

"On Thursday October 19th, unbeknownst to me, and without ANY notice, tarps were drilled to cover a new deck that is being built to protect the wood freshly coated with polyester resin.

Beneath this tarp, is my bedroom.

I had gone to bed especially early (5:30pm) having woken at 3:45am for work that morning. The person who did this, KNEW I was curled up in bed, we had talked about it less than two hours earlier.

In the middle of the night, I woke up, choking on fumes, eyes watering, and a brain on fire with a migraine unlike anything I had ever experienced before, my sinuses and throat ablaze. Experiencing immense confusion as a result of the toxic exposure, in my altered state, I dragged my bedding into the den, closed my bedroom door, and opened the sliding glass door as well as any uncovered windows trying to let air in. It was the first truly cold night of the season, I froze.

By 6am, I had been huffing toxic chemicals for thirteen hours. My house full of poison fumes. At which point, even in the darkness, I bolted out of the house to walk my beloved lake the only comfort I could think of that would help try to ground me and hopefully clear my head a bit (Oh, wasn't I hopeful!)

I am now on my fifth (ninth as of Oct. 28) day of an unrelenting headache, burning sinuses, dense, dense brain fog, and difficulties breathing as though an elephant is on my chest. I have not been able to sleep in my place since, nor have I been able to return for more than an hour without my headache spiking back to a migraine and the longer I stay, I can actually feel the brain fog get denser and denser, as though I'm being circled by a swarm of brain-eating zombies.

I'm seriously struggling with short term memory, I am dizzy and lightheaded, thus scared to drive. So I'm staying in downtown Sechelt in a two-star motel, so I can walk everywhere. The hip/groin injury that I have been diligently tending to and trying-oh-so-patiently to wait for it to heal (I've been off work because of it for six months), is screaming because of all the extra walking.

At night, I struggle to fall asleep, and when I finally do, I am waking, bolting upright in a terrorized panic, and understandably so; someone I trusted poisoned me in my sleep for the sake of a home renovation. Not only is my physical body exhibiting exposure illness, my spirit has been traumatized by the blatant disrespect and disregard. I have been violated by someone I felt safe with.

While I'm trying to honour and acknowledge the miracles, magick and angels, I am simultaneously moving through profound betrayal, loss, grief and trauma.

I choose to rent the two star motel, because as a truly "high-i" introvert, after four nights of being displaced and a guest room hobo, I need solitude to curl up and weep.

My brain feels like it's sitting in a jar of poisonous gasses and my nasal cavity and sinuses feel like Kelowna being consumed by raging wildfire.

I am an author. I have been working on my second book for the last nine months, and right now, I can't talk for more than three minutes without stopping, looking at the person and asking, "what was I saying?" I can't even begin to explain how frustrating it is, knowing that a thought really IS there, I can *FEEL* it, yet I can't wade through the fog to unearth it. It's as though a roaming blackhole randomly swallows my entire brain and all its thoughts. It has taken me more than two and a half hours to write this."

Please, let's give this woman a cushion to rest on. She has been a giver all her life and many of us have been the happy, fortunate recipients of her magnificent energy. It's our turn to take care of her. We love you Krystin.