⚡ Fireworks and Mold: The Night Jason Died and My Gut Cracked Open

Jason was 51. Hardworking. Leather jacket kind of guy. He loved crystals. He had a backyard full of stuff—some useful, some just sentimental. He took care of his dementia-stricken dad. He let someone live rent-free in the trailer on his property. He built a hurricane restoration business from scratch.

He hired me for demolitions. We worked in moldy insulation, shoulder to shoulder, breathing in decay and laughing through it.

He showed me love. Not romantic. Just real. The kind that says, “I see you. I’ve got you. You matter.”

💔 The Day Before He Died

Jason was pissed. A woman had been abusing his kindness, and he was livid. I’d never seen him like that.

So I hugged him. I told him I loved him. And I meant it.

⚡ New Year’s Eve: The Night Everything Split

Jason died on New Year’s Eve. Electrocuted in a mold-infested attic. He got stuck. He was dead for hours before anyone found him.

I got the call around the same time the fireworks started. The sky was exploding. And so was my heart.

People were cheering. I was collapsing.

🥣 My Body Was Already Starving

At that point, I weighed under 100lbs. I was training hard. Eating like a monk on a mission.

• Tofu

• Kaniwa

• Buckwheat bread

• Black tahini

• Teff

Hardly any fruit. Hardly any vegetables. Just ancient grains and sacred fats.

You’d think I would’ve gained weight. But ancient grains are metabolically intelligent. They nourish without bloating. They ground without gripping.

Still, I was starving. Not just physically. Spiritually. Emotionally.

🍩 Then the Binging Began

After Jason died, something cracked. I started binging.

Not just food. But grief. Noise. Distraction. Anything to fill the hole.

I binged on sugar and salt and silence. I binged on shame. I binged on the ache of not having said more, done more, known more.

🧘‍♀️ Gut Healing Isn’t Just About What You Eat

It’s about what you feel. What you carry. What you bury.

Jason’s death didn’t just break my heart. It broke my gut. And that rupture became the beginning of a new protocol.

Now, when I teach gut healing, I include grief. I include Jason. I include the fireworks. I include the binging.

Because healing isn’t just about digestion. It’s about resurrection.

🌿 What I Offer Now

• Gut healing protocols that honor emotional trauma

• Recipes that soothe the nervous system, not just the stomach

• Coaching that includes grief, loss, and spiritual digestion

• A space where binging isn’t shamed—it’s understood

Jason’s death cracked me open. And from that crack, something holy grew.