OverFlow: Why I Need to Ascertain If Do Believe in Fairies
Of magic and medicine, and how my body has been betraying me for months.
OverFlow is what happens when I overthink, overflow, and over-everything. When my feelings have nowhere to go, I write about them.
Last July, I found out that I currently suffer from severe iron deficiency anemia.
How did I, a hypersensitive overthinker, not know that something was wrong with me? Common symptoms I now recognize as signs of anemia were brushed off dismissively and ignored.
We all know how it feels to reflexively minimize pain and discomfort just to not be called “difficult.” It’s an ingrained trait I still struggle to override most days… but I don’t think that’s what happened this time.
It was as if the deterioration of my physical condition had happened over so many months that it was near unnoticeable. I just couldn’t see the forest for the trees.
What Does a Severe Iron Deficiency Do to a Body?
I can only speak for myself here.
Damaged hair and skin, difficulty concentrating and multitasking, headaches, fatigue, fast heartbeats, persistent depression, weakness, worsening anxiety—all from something about one in five women my age are experiencing right now.
What Can Medical Fact Tell Me About Magical Fiction?
Being iron-deficient — and up until recently being unaware of it — is something I’ve been thinking about a lot. Learning about my condition came on the heels of a long and recently re-ignited conversation I’d been having with myself for decades.
While my physical self was deteriorating, I was in my head forging a magical soul-searching path toward spiritual self-discovery.
Yes. I said magic.
I’ve always felt connected to life and the act of living in a way that science can’t fully explain. And for the past year, life was about not being able to let go. I didn’t know it then, but I didn’t want to go on. Couldn’t imagine the act of living without people and places I’ve known since before I was born.
Tell me how the fantasy fiction nerd in me missed checking for an iron deficiency during the most difficult year of my life. No cold iron — even the amount that’s supposed to be in my blood — means no protection from evil spirits, fairies, and other witches. Zero.
“But are there evil spirits, fairies, and other witches who would do you harm?” That’s logic talking. I guess they don’t know how much I overthink because, of course, my response is: “I don’t need to be sure. I just need to know it’s possible.”
To be clear, I’m not saying I believe in fairies. The salient fact here, instead, is: I’m not saying I don’t believe in fairies. There’s a difference. (Please say that you can discern the difference.)
Call me a what-if witch, if that makes sense.
A Digression (Because, of Course, I Still Need to Write About My Father)
Do you know what else is repelled by cold iron? Ghosts.
If we’re friends, you’ll likely remember me complaining about my dead father not haunting me. I went on and on about it, for much longer than it would’ve been genuinely funny. It got awkward. (Apologies.)
I can’t help but think that my subconscious is in cahoots… with the iron in my body? I don’t know how far I can go with this conspiracy theory, honestly. Maybe my body caused a deficiency on purpose. Why? Obviously, to give my dad a chance to visit me.
He must be truly happy or already reabsorbed into the big everything wave. Even at “needs a transfusion” levels of iron deficiency, he still did not appear.
Time for me to stop doing the selfish grieving bit. Dad knew he was loved. I don’t know why I keep wanting to prove something everyone already knows.
Weren’t We Supposed to Be Talking About Magic?
ANYWAY, this was supposed to be about something else. Let’s get back to it!
About being a witch: I still feel silly and a little embarrassed identifying myself as one, but it’s the word that fits.
I don’t mean that I’m a clairvoyant, a medium, or a psychic.
I’m more comfortable around animals and nature than I am around people. Emotions and energies for me are very strong — I feel physical pain when I see another person get hurt, even if the only thing bruised is their pride. I honor what’s ancient and unknowable, and as an extension of that, honor my “smallness” in the scale of things without diminishing the care and respect I have for myself and other similarly “small” lives. Does that make sense?
Of course, I have kooky superstitions that are unprovable by science. Technology glitches and coincidences happen to me a lot! Songs I associate with special people play repeatedly when Spotify is on shuffle. Lights turn off… and on. Long-broken devices suddenly fix themselves. And so on.
But do they really happen a lot, or is this confirmation bias? Again, just the possibility that all of this ties into something that appreciates my witchy ways is enough. What if? I’m being serious.
Let me get back to you when I turn this seed of an idea into the What If Witchy Women Cult — soon to be tax-exempt. (Hello, IRS. I am, in fact, not being serious here. I am serious about believing in “What if?” though.)
Of Fairies and Ferrous Sulfate
As of today, I’ve been taking ferrous sulfate for a little less than two weeks.
The difference is like night and day. I went from a snail’s-pace sad potato to a three-miles-a-day brisk walker! There’s enough energy left to do my work and household chores, too. How did I ever survive before these supplements? If I had indeed been cursed or jinxed during those months I was “unprotected,” the bad vibes must have worn off or been redirected.
Will report if or when I come across angry fairies, ghosts, or spirits that can no longer hurt me. For now, I’m just enjoying how this feels.
Photo by Jay Mantri on Unsplash
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