I have joint swelling issues. I’m bad at time and memory. I got swelling in my toe (right foot) and the middle knuckle of my right hand. It has come back 3 or 4 times. My knee and hip get swollen. The area was warm. They crystallize. I get fevers, ten short fevers a day. My birth mother has rheumatoid arthritis. Cyclically, with the moon, I get cysts on my neck and face, lower back, bum, skull, all over. Bumps under the skin that feel large and marble-like. Clear liquid releases. They scar badly and take a long time to heal. I feel like my occiput expands and the lymph nodes are inflamed. I get cysts in my arm. (left) I have waves of fatigue throughout the day. Generally 2-3 PM is the low point. This goes back my whole life.
The dip turns into giddy, childlike behavior. I get playful. But if I needed my brain for anything, people would think I was insane. If I described it, I get fuzzier and less present in the world. My presence, my material world melts away. I lose some pixels and I’m barely here. Lousy memory. Fuzzy. People put screens between myself and everything else — not in the world anymore. It reminds me of being a kid in my childhood bedroom. A retreat from hostility.
My household was really messed up. My parents were screamers. I was abused by my brothers. I was always being looked at. My whole house was a bad scene. My room was my own creative space. I built a world. I would go under there. I had a universe. I could never get away from the family. The experience is more the fantasy realm — the escape. I was never completely alone. I had to suspect unwelcoming eyes were voyeuring in on me. No one’s protecting me, and I left.
When I went to my parents at twelve years old about my brothers, they couldn’t deal with it. I asked for help from my parents, and they ignored me. I was a hostile, violent kid, burning down stores. I became independent really early. Like all the girls in Africa being castrated, an innocent being for the short duration of a life who was thrown to the wolves. Severely out of balance in the world. For a time innocence should be preserved and held sacred — for the short time in life that you have it. Then that fragile time isn’t there anymore. There’s a world of disturbed beings ready to take advantage. I didn’t get to be a kid, and now I have this. My parents were ignorant. They didn’t mold or shape us. There was no structure to grab onto. It wasn’t provided. They were consulting me for answers.
Here we see the secret sexuality in the Sycotic miasm. She is being abused by her brothers but when she asks her parents for help, they ignore her. She reacts with rebellious behavior. Patricia La Roux, in Homeopathic Links, has talked about this remedy for use in ailments from sexual abuse in children.
My brother stopped talking for ten years. He would only talk to me. They would dump him on me. It was too much weight. I was supposed to figure everything out. I was living on the street. I was stealing food. I was surviving way too soon. Surviving on the fundamental level — essential needs in order to be well. The worst thing was that I was not going to die but that I would be so marginalized in society, like someone who was mentally ill or a junkie. Junkies — I feared I was too close to that world and that I understood it too well. I was terribly afraid to be that because of mental illness. There is an illness and weakness to struggling. You can never get what you are supposed to be on Earth. I had a great idea, something I must do, to become the most beautiful thing, to advance from the dark, sickly world. Split — two worlds — middle class. The dark side. They couldn’t triumph, couldn’t make it out of the muck. That is living hell. Perpetual darkness, hell and agony.The desire to shut off the world.
This illustrates the Avoidance theme seen in Sycotic miasm. It is a way to cut off from the painful aspect of existence that eats away at those in this miasm. She is struggling for her very survival.
I freebased when I was a runaway. I became obsessed about books. I could use that same energy. I love to set impossible goals. I graduated with a 65. They pushed me out. I picked this to do: Addiction and habit. Like with my smoking now, I like sneaking. I like cheating. I thought I was designed to be a con artist. I was a great thief. I love sleight of hand. I planned heists, I robbed stores. I was alone and contemplating. It goes with the desire to be a con artist. Interior space, Scorpio, nobody gets in. Social, aloof, a wall can go up really easily.
Drs. Herrick and Morrison describe this as a confirmatory symptom of the Sycotic miasm:
Delusion: of crime or being a criminal
After I’ve really connected with people, I retreat to some degree. You can’t make eye . I have to put up some walls and cave myself in a little bit just to survive. I did therapy. I carried a lot of armor. I need to be warmer. Look, I survived. I’m more intimate with people. I’m told I can be very loving and then parallel and distant. I feel like there’s a lot of people on the tit. I’m over-depleted by these dependencies. I’m not very good at letting other people nurture me. I have trouble receiving nurturing. That stings with truth. The traditional modes of nurturing were not possible — so who do you trust? Now you are a powerhouse of strength. How do you find an equal powerhouse?
I mastered strength. I was so good at the hard part. When I got to the easy part, I would often sabotage it. I’ve worked on enjoying the success part. To be my own leader. I get a surge. I get excited. Survival and struggle. A cougar. An independent cat that lives alone. The shark also has aced it — a cold one. I still have the capacity to think I could become undone. Fear of losing your way, falling into chaos. That bottom tier, I can call that up in a moment’s notice. I have that story, the down-and-out fear. The thorny side of down and out. The abandonment. The ache. The child that shouldn’t be left. I thought, how did all of this happen to me? I wasn’t that girl that had friends. I was segregated. Sad and abandoned. Segregated. Different. The cougar is scary. It has all these senses. I was thinking of the mind of something that survives. I was not thrilled to be a different creature. I wished I could be innocent.
The con thing — it’s a sense that’s developed. Strategic — I can always pick a hole in the system. I look for holes and flaws. That’s the inroad. I observe moments in the room. In that rhythm you can hide things. My dog is like that. Magicians do it. I love sleight of hand. Sociopaths do it. I have no remorse. I checked in with myself and I couldn’t call up any remorse. How do I feel? I worked on it. I remember recognizing that in myself. A single track, a track of survival. There is no room for anyone else when the world seems so other. When family and friends don’t exist. No empathetic direction. It’s like — I need this, so I take it from you. You can’t further the needs of another heart. No one else is in there with you. Fear of being alone. It’s more of a memory. I’d cry a lot. I’d bike-ride. I’d swim in the pool. I’d always go to physical exertion. I think of myself as fearless.
She is secretive, but also keenly aware of others and her surroundings. Being aware of the environment is her defense. She also has some of the egoism that can be seen in the Sycotic miasm. She’s very sure of herself, but it is a compensation for her lack of self-worth.
I have dreams of being chased and of falling. The chase dreams were very much about strategy. Climbing over buildings, fast-paced and intense. I’d enjoy the chase. Hopping through the urban landscape. Not high anxiety fear. Problem solving, innovating, creating, discovering. I get captured over and over again. The rhythm, I’m caught again.
Falling asleep, falling off the Empire State Building, really tortured. Falling off a mountain, really unpleasant stuff.
My period of late is hard. One in every three months is brutal. Lots of blood. Clotty, dark, bright red.And my breast cysts. Ugh! You don’t even want to know. I’ll inflate. I turn into a different person. I feel pregnant, like a balloon. I feel very foreign to myself. It looks suggestive and slutty, my breasts just get so big. It doesn’t feel like the personality I’m carrying internally.
My birth mother was a prostitute. After I was adopted they found out I had some broken bones as an infant. When I finally met her, she told me she was beaten when she was pregnant with me. My own fear was that I would be destitute, just like she was.
As a child I had tonsillitis, sinusitis, and bronchitis. I had a poor diet and way too many antibiotics. I’ve had antibiotics four times in the last ten years. I get white dots in my throat. I get very swollen glands.
I get eruptions in the same place on either side of my body. Some of my things are right- sided.
I have crappy teeth with a lot of cavities. My throat gets very swollen glands on the left side. The white dots. I’m immune-suppressed in my throat. I get cysts in my throat.
These classic symptoms can lead us directly to the remedy.
Sometimes it hurts to have sex. My skin is sensitive, and it’s like a sandy, abrasive quality. My libido was fantastic, but my life partner now is not that interested in sex. I have a lover in New Orleans that I go and visit from time to time.
Sometimes in the morning I have intestinal pain. Stinging pains. As soon as I wake up I feel the movement of intestinal action. Sometimes I’ve only pooped once a week. A snow white poo.
I love comfort food. Bread, chocolate, bagels, pizza, coffee. As a child I did not like milk at all. Now I get gastric disturbances from drinking it.
The best time for me is the first 3-4 hours of the day. I have clarity and ambition. I like dusk.
In the past I have been afraid of dogs, but I just got one. She is so damaged that it works for me. She was born in the pound and lived there three years before we adopted her.
I like autumn when it’s a little cool. You need a knitted hat and gloves. I like to cuddle a little. I need sun. I get seasonal depression. I tend not to need a jacket. I prefer a little chill. The heat knocks me out.
I’d like to have more clarity of mind, more moments of beautiful clarity. A higher vitality would make me feel more connected. There feels as if there is a veil between me and the outside world. I’d like to move from something low to a higher nature.
Rx: Lac Caninum 30C
One month later
(She brings her dog to the appointment!) After I took the remedy I was so exhausted for several days. I wrote a five-year plan. I stopped smoking. I’m getting a handle on the larger view.
The swelling and cysts are greatly reduced. There is hardly any swelling at all around my periods. I am doing a couple of other herbal tonics, however. I feel like my body is reshaping. My weight was swinging on me before. Now it’s in a nice, trim place.
My memory is better. I don’t think when you are awake and clear you are at the risk of forgetting anything. The thought of not having a memory doesn’t make sense. Stuff you haven’t worked out in your inner self can affect you mentally. It’s like an intoxication, a fuzz. My expression of that fuzz was a faulty memory.
Three months later
I feel the swelling coming back before my periods. Last month it wasn’t so bad, but this month I feel it very strongly. I was hoping that this wouldn’t come back because it really plagues me. I tried taking some pokeroot. I just could not get the swelling to end. I’m crashing more in the afternoon and craving junk. I feel that fuzzy feeling again, and it’s not so welcome. I was feeling so good before! I missed being able to be with my spiritual teacher a few weekends ago because we had some work to do. I really felt like I needed to connect, and instead I felt alone and isolated. I have been down about it ever since.
Five months after Lac Caninum 200C
I cleaned out a lot after the holidays. I did an eBay store and got rid of so much crap. I’m getting back to writing and have been working on a story I wanted to tell for a very long time. It’s a story of mystical transformation. That’s all I can tell you. You’ll just have to read it when I’m done.
I’ve been thinking about doing a class on people with nervous systems out of control. It’s not OK with me that people are walking around with bad behavior. I’m going to raise the bar. I’m going to do something. It’s something like, “A Class on Listening.” I’ve been listening to myself a lot. What I want and what I don’t want to live with. I’ve really learned so much from my dog. She was so scared when we first got her, but I’ve worked with her. I taught her how to love, and she taught me how to nurture her. She let me in and it transformed me. She’s really a part of me and I am a part of her. I haven’t really felt that with other beings in the same way.
My breasts are not swelling any more. Can you keep that from happening again? I’ll keep taking this remedy if you think it will help.
She found greater satisfaction in her life and went on to publish a book about her off-the grid, anti-consumerism lifestyle two years later. She continues to take the remedy from time to time when needed.
Note: This case appears in Miasms of the New Millennium by Nancy Herrick and Roger Morrison, which was just published. The book has a complete review of the ten miasms including themes, confirmatory symptoms, language of the patient, and complete cases, the latest list of the remedies and their miasms. This is the case of a Sycotic animal. As a lac, this case also illustrates some strong milk themes.