3 Warriors. 3 Mountains. One Truth - The Body Keeps The Score
Three Warriors. Three Mountains. One Truth: The Body Never Makes Things Up.
Some clinic days are ordinary.
And then there are days like Tuesday—
days where three completely different lives walk through our doors, carrying three different kinds of battles… and somehow, by the end of the day, you realize they’re all telling the same truth in three languages.
That truth is this:
The body never makes things up.
It adapts, survives, warns, protects, and signals.
And when we listen closely enough, it always leads us to the root.
On Tuesday, three warriors arrived.
Different ages. Different histories. Different symptoms.
But tied together by the same invisible thread:
a nervous system and immune system that have been pushed past their limit—and are begging for safety again.
Let me introduce them to you the only way I can:
through their courage.
Warrior One: The Young Adult Whose World Became a Crash Cycle
She used to be unstoppable.
She was the kind of person who could sprint through life on high drive—academics, goals, a busy mind, a full heart. She wasn’t a “napper.” She wasn’t fragile. She was alive in her body and confident in her future.
And then something shifted.
Not overnight. Not dramatically at first.
But quietly, steadily, like a dimmer switch turning down her light.
She lived in a series of environments she didn’t realize were affecting her.
She pushed through fatigue that didn’t match the life she was living.
She kept believing that if she rested long enough, she would bounce back.
Then came the crash—
the kind that changes how a person sees time.
Suddenly, life became pacing and fear of overdoing it.
Work shrank to hours.
The world narrowed to what her body could tolerate that day.
She did what so many warriors do:
she became her own detective, her own advocate, her own hope-holder.
She found pieces of truth.
She tried protocols.
She fought for function.
She refused to accept that “this is just who I am now.”
And when she finally connected the dots about ongoing environmental exposure, something sharpened into clarity:
Her body wasn’t betraying her.
It was protecting her.
She came to TLC not for a miracle,
but for a map.
And here’s what I love about this warrior:
Even after years of push-crash cycles, setbacks, and losses…
she is still eyes-up.
Still hopeful.
Still willing to rebuild.
Still believing that her body can become home again.
That is the exact mindset that turns a long road into a finish line.
Warrior Two: The Child with a Spark Who Keeps Going “Elsewhere”
This warrior is a child—and she is magic.
Bright. Strong-willed. Creative.
The kind of kid who lights up a room and has a future written all over her.
But her parents began noticing something that didn’t fit:
Moments where she would drift away.
Brief vanishings in the middle of a day.
Episodes that looked like she was “gone” for seconds at a time.
They did what good parents do:
they stayed curious.
They tracked patterns.
They adjusted food, routines, exposures.
And in the middle of trying to understand the seizures, they discovered something else:
A past environment had likely left a deeper imprint.
Not just on her body—
but on her nervous system.
When a child’s brain is still developing,
environmental stressors can change the terrain.
What makes this family extraordinary is that they didn’t panic.
They didn’t surrender.
They became a team.
They learned.
They advocated.
They built a lifestyle that supports her biology instead of fighting it.
And they walked into TLC with one goal:
Give her brain the cleanest, calmest foundation possible so her spark can shine without interruption.
This warrior isn’t defined by seizures.
She’s defined by who she is outside of them—
and by a family who refuses to let her story be smaller than her potential.
Warrior Three: The Adult Who Has Lived a Lifetime in a Highly Sensitive Body
This warrior has been fighting since childhood.
He was sensitive from the beginning—
to foods, to environments, to things most people can tolerate without a thought.
Then came a regression early in life that flipped his world.
Suddenly, the most basic things—food, school, sounds, smells—became landmines.
Over the years, his family became experts in a kind of medicine no one wants to learn:
survival medicine.
They learned that food could be medicine… or a trigger.
That environment matters more than anyone wants to admit.
That the immune system can become hyper-alert after enough hits.
And that the smallest change can ripple into either a good week… or a hard one.
They’ve spent decades doing what many people never have to do once:
rebuilding from scratch.
again and again.
And yet…
they are still here.
Still loving him.
Still chasing more good days.
Still believing that his body can stabilize enough to widen his world.
What they want is simple and profound:
a baseline.
a steady nervous system.
a body that doesn’t feel like it’s under attack every day.
His story is a reminder that “complex” doesn’t mean hopeless.
It means layered.
It means we go slowly.
It means we earn trust from the body one step at a time.
And I believe this warrior’s best chapters are not behind him.
The Thread That Tied Them Together
Three warriors.
Three different lives.
But each one is teaching the same lesson:
Healing isn’t about chasing symptoms.
It’s about creating safety in the body again.
Sometimes that safety starts in the home.
Sometimes in the gut.
Sometimes in the immune system.
Sometimes in the brain.
Sometimes in the story your nervous system has been holding for years.
But it always starts with listening.
Tuesday was a reminder of why TLC exists:
To hold the full story.
To honor the body’s signals.
To look where others don’t look.
To believe what patients experience.
And to walk with them until we get to the root.
These three warriors are on three different mountains.
But they are all climbing toward the same summit:
a life where their bodies are no longer the battleground.
a life where healing is not a hope… but a direction.
And I’m honored we get to climb with them.