Running With The Wolves
I have always had an affinity with wolves. Perhaps it is my fierce independence, my shyness with strangers, my love of music, my love of the dark; which draws me into the sensitivity of these animals. Perhaps it is my birth placement within the astrological sign of Cancer, the fourth sign of the zodiac, the sign that is governed by the moon, by the family, by the pack; which draws me into the mystery of these animals. Perhaps it is my Christian upbringing, my memories of singing at church as a child, my memories of voices (and hearts) lifting in unison, being pulled by a magnetic power higher than our own; which draws me into the spirit of these animals. Or perhaps it is my deepest wound, my wound of being silenced (or choosing to be silent), my wound of being kept tame (or choosing to be tame); which draws me into the medicine of these animals. The medicine of uninhibited self-expression.
When I was three years old I had a near-death experience. I was drowning at the deep end of a swimming pool, gulping down gallons of water, sinking towards the bottom at an alarming rate. The adults supervising us were totally unaware of my predicament. I remember looking up at them through the water, eyes bulging, telepathically screaming out for help. Luckily the ESP was working that day. One of them finally noticed and belly-flopped to my rescue. Since then, however, I have experienced a recurring theme in my dreams: the phenomena of screaming at the top of my lungs in the dream-state, with no sound coming out. Nightmares like these have always been cut short by my sudden waking, often gasping for breath, sweating, with a racing heartbeat and sore abdominal muscles. The mind-body connection is no joke!
It is no coincidence that I grew to love stories like The Little Mermaid and the Irish folktales of the selkies (half-human-half-seal creatures who have the ability to heal, and lift curses, with the power of their voices and their song). From my formative years, right through to my adulthood, I have had an intense pre-occupation with being heard – or more to the point – not being heard. When I look back over the course of my life, the relationships that I’ve had, the jobs that I’ve chosen; nearly all of them have been haunted by the same recurring theme or pattern: the one where I cannot be heard. I cannot speak with confidence. I cannot fully self-express. I have subconsciously manifested this scenario over and over: entangling myself with dominant brothers, dominant lovers, dominant friends, dominant bosses at work. And me: ever the people-pleaser. Ever the submissive. Ever the silent one. Ever the tame one.
My descent into obedience and passive-aggressive over-giving was cataclysmic. By the end of my twenties I had reached absolute burnout. I was over-worked and under-valued in all sectors of my life: from the professional to the personal to the physical. Drowning in debt, living paycheque to paycheque, battling with chronic fatigue, and becoming increasingly socially/sexually/creatively inactive. Something had to give! “I’m ready!” I yelled at the heavens. “I’m ready to do thy will! Just show me what to do!” Eventually, in the deafening silence that followed, came a peace … and then a clarity … and then an ancient drumbeat, soft at first, started to sound in the deep. Finally it came, cresting over the horizon, a sound so familiar. My voice, my own voice, reminding me of the next giant step: “You are taking your spoken-word to the stage. You are starting a YouTube channel.”
In bocca al lupo
There is an Italian expression which is commonly used to encourage somebody on the verge of facing a test or challenge: “In bocca al lupo.” The phrase literally means “In the mouth of the wolf” and it is said as a gesture of good luck for the recipient (similar to the English idiom “break a leg” which was traditionally said to actors before they went on stage).
If I had known that I was on the verge of a test, the biggest test of my life to date, I never would have embarked. Within weeks of starting a YouTube channel, publishing my videos to a worldwide audience, launching a website and opening an online shop for private 1:1 clients … I met the wolf. His name was Lupus, and he completely ravaged my body within the space of 21 days (this timeframe is significant, which I will loop back to at the end of this story).
Over the course of three weeks I went from experiencing a mild ache in my jaw to full-blown, full-body joint paralysis. I couldn’t lift my arms or dress myself properly. It was agony. The headaches were excruciating. My temperatures went through the roof. My local GP kept saying that it was just a flu virus. The videos for my YouTube channel came to a screeching halt. It got so bad that an ambulance was finally called on the 17th March, St Paddy’s day no less, and I was whisked away to hospital whilst the rest of London was drinking Guinness. By the time sunrise came, my diagnosis was confirmed: “We are terribly sorry Ms Bonn. You have an auto-immune condition called Lupus SLE. There is currently no cure for this disease, and we don’t know what causes it. Your trigger has been severe and it is highly probable that you will be on immuno-suppressant medications for the rest of your life … you’re not planning on getting pregnant, are you?”
You cannot have puppies
Time passed. Eventually I was discharged from hospital and left alone to navigate the stormy seas of hair loss, ongoing joint pain, irregular periods, steroid-induced weight gain, debilitating chronic fatigue, facial rashes and severe depression. Weeks turned into months and I continued to hold myself together with pieces of tape … publishing my videos online and being buoyed by the growth of my YouTube channel and the incredible support of my loyal subscribers. But there was one part of the process that I simply couldn’t cope with: the burden that I might never be able to have children. That I might never be able to bring a child to full term or survive the labour. The doctors had been very honest about the complications associated with Lupus SLE and pregnancy. In my grief I started to research avenues of adoption, just in case, but my spirit would rebel every time. My womb would cry: “No! There must be a way to carry life!”
I became more insistent with the doctors. I started to question their decisions and educate myself on alternative therapies. I started to fight for my unborn son. I started to speak for my unborn daughter. No longer the silent one. No longer the tame one. I was in the mouth of the wolf – and he was teaching me to use my voice confidently. “Use it – or die!” he said. In bocca al lupo!
My will to live, to carry life within me, kept getting louder … and as my confidence increased with the medical establishment, so too did my confidence increase with my creative performance. It is no coincidence that, during this profound period, I released a video entitled Women Who Run With The Wolves for my Gemini audience on YouTube. The video garnered 30,000 views within a few days and it marked the turning point of my channel’s exponential growth. Life and art were beginning to imitate each other.
No more muzzles. Healing the core wound of suppression.
Exactly one year after the Lupus diagnosis, my channel reached 100,000 subscribers. I was really hitting my creative stride and my increase in confidence was starting to become noticeable to friends and family. My body had stabilised from the initial attack, but I was still on an extremely high dosage of toxic immuno-suppressants (Mycophenolate) and an accompanying anti-malarial (Hydroxychloriquine). If Year One of my healing journey was centred around the theme of amplifying my ‘expression’ then Year Two was a much deeper dive into the theme of ‘suppression’.
I soon discovered the miraculous testimonials of people who had cured themselves of so-called ‘lifelong’ and/or ‘terminal’ illnesses with nothing more than water: specifically electrolysed-reduced water (ERW) which is commonly referred to by the popular brand name ‘Kangen’ water. I promptly purchased a Kangen K8 machine and within a few weeks of drinking the ERW my kidneys were almost functioning normally, and I was spared from having to undergo a dangerous kidney biopsy.
In conjunction to this, I was given a recommendation to read the book Medical Medium by Anthony William, in which the author cites Epstein-Barr virus as the primary cause of Lupus SLE. Sure enough, at my insistence, the doctors tested me for Epstein-Barr virus and the results came back positive. I was infected.
So further down the alternative path I sniffed, my primal spirit hungry now, as the scent of natural healing became stronger and stronger. It wasn’t long before I stumbled across the incredible team at SOTA.com who manufacture electro-magnetic devices capable of cleansing the bloodstream of viruses and pathogens. By this point my internal organs, my skin, my hair (everything) was visibly improving. I became more and more vocal on YouTube about these utterly transformative modalities, the same modalities that had helped to cure author & activist Keith Mann of Stage 4 ‘terminal’ cancer. But as I publicly picked apart the medical establishment’s unnecessary prescription of chemical suppression i.e. the prescription of long-term immuno-suppressants like Mycophenolate; a very strange thing started to happen to my YouTube platform.
Suddenly subscriber numbers crawled to a standstill (not decreasing – but not increasing), my videos stopped appearing in search listings, direct links to my videos would re-direct to other channels, my Google AdSense revenue began to decline. I started to feel an awful sense that I was being monitored. More and more of these strange anomalies continued to occur: weird emails from faux supporters, referencing the places that I had visited that day, or quoting lines from my private telephone conversations with my mother. Personal accounts began to get hacked: Netflix, Gmail. My debit card was frozen due to a suspicious number of purchases. My professional Vimeo account was suspended due to fraudulent activity, held under investigation for eight weeks without pay. And on, and on.
It was clear to anybody with common sense and rational insight that I had become the target of highly-sophisticated cyber sabotage, perhaps as a means to shut down my platform? Or at the very least, to prevent my powerful testimony from being heard. Once again, my life and art, my body and soul, were imitating the same process: a fight to shake off the shackles of suppression (chemical suppression of my immune system, and corporate-controlled cyber suppression of my creative voice).
When nature wins!
So here we are today. It is now almost two years since the Lupus diagnosis. I am letting go of my YouTube channel and bidding farewell to a loyal tribe of 160,000 subscribers (at least for now). The wolf has lessened his grip on my body, there is no more barking at the door … he seems to be satisfied with my progress. If Year One of my healing journey was a test of self ‘expression’ and Year Two was the challenge of establishment ‘suppression’, then my hunch is that Year Three will be the blank page of ‘liberation’.
Earlier in this story I specifically noted the 21 day timeframe of my initial Lupus onslaught. A timeframe of exactly three weeks, culminating on St Paddy’s day, which put me into hospital and set me on the path of this misadventure. Well, recently I commenced a new detox protocol, a protocol that is presented here in a perfect trinity of threes:
- 3 litres of electrolysed-reduced ‘Kangen’ water per day
- 3 teaspoons of Ascorbic acid (Vitamin C in powder form) per day
- 3 hours of electro-magnetic blood cleansing with the SOTA Silver Pulser per day
After exactly three weeks of following the above protocol, a timeframe of 21 days, culminating on St Andrew’s day no less (31st November), my blood test results came back completely normal with no current traces of Epstein-Barr virus. Completely normal blood within a timeframe of 21 days. Apart from some lingering fatigue, I am no longer exhibiting the symptoms that would indicate a ‘lifelong’ condition of Lupus SLE. I have successfully weaned off the toxic immuno-suppressants and I will be able to safely conceive a baby from mid-2020 onwards.
For those of you who are just at the start of your Lupus journey, or for those of you who have been in the trenches of auto-immune warfare for quite some time; I hope that my testimony serves to comfort, inspire and provoke your primal spirit to rise! In the mouth of the wolf I greet you, my friend. I see your struggle and your pain, and in response I howl! A wolf cry of celebration! Down on all fours, back arched, chin lifted, throat strained, I call to you from the finish line: “You are so close! Don’t give up! In bocca al lupo!”
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