HT, MT and CT, Oh, My!

HT: The Composite That Won’t Let Go

IMPORTANT: The first and most important step is to get out of mold and stop exposure. Nothing substitutes for clean air and a clean location.

These are hypothetical explanations based on our experiences and research, anecdotal reports and research compiled by fellow mold avoiders. The conclusions we drew from these laid the framework for the invention and development of hellbender solutions as a way to break down and denature not only mold but also mold conjugate toxins.

There’s a reason HT behaves like a sticky ghost with a degree in polymer chemistry. HT isn’t a single molecule; it’s a composite—a mash-up of fungal and bacterial biofilm fragments, oxidized hydrocarbons, residual disinfectants, and metals (iron, copper, zinc, lead, cadmium if the universe is feeling spicy). Biofilms aren’t just slime; they’re tightly engineered scaffolds built from EPS - extracellular polymeric substances - chiefly polysaccharides, proteins, lipids, and extracellular DNA. Add divalent and transition metals and the scaffold cross-links, hardens, and turns into the surface equivalent of reinforced concrete. That’s why HT clings to plastics, glass, wood, paper, textiles, skin—pick a substrate, any substrate—and then refuses to leave.

On the physics side, mixed intermolecular forces do the dirty work: hydrophobic domains (PAHs, oxidized terpenes, lipids, fungal hydrophobins) stick via dispersion forces; polar domains (β-glucans, mannans, proteins, LPS, DNA) latch on with hydrogen and ionic bonds. Quaternary ammonium residues—thank the golden age of disinfectant wipes—leave cationic films that act like electrostatic Velcro for anionic biopolymers and fine dust. The net result is a nano-to-microfilm that simultaneously loves oil and water, and therefore everything.

Why does HT seem to “propagate” from one item to an entire room? Think autocatalytic surface templating. Once a surface is seeded, its surface energy and charge distribution change, so it preferentially adsorbs more of the same—a phenomenon familiar to anyone who’s ever watched a bad mood spread during a staff meeting. Add ultrafine fragments and semi-volatiles constantly shedding from the seeded item, and you get room-scale plating without obvious contact. Static charge and triboelectric effects amplify this; fabrics and plastics build charge from friction, pulling in oppositely charged particles across inches or feet like low-budget tractor beams.

Water and oxidizers often make it worse. Humidity hydrates EPS and swells the film, mobilizing fragments and pushing contamination deeper into porous substrates via capillary action. Ozone and other oxidants hitting a dirty matrix boost secondary organic aerosol (SOA) formation: terpenes and fragrance residues crack into aldehydes and peroxides while metals catalyze further reactions, “curing” what remains into an even tougher, more polar, more adhesive mess. This is why the “purifier” session sometimes ends in tears.

The symptom profile makes sense. β-glucans and endotoxin are immunostimulatory at vanishing doses; oxidized carbonyls are neuro-irritants; nanoparticles are lung-permeable; and the composite sticks to everything long enough to ensure repeated, low-level, multi-pathway dosing. Community reports (including many cataloged at sites like paradigmchange.me) converge on the same behaviors: wildfire spread, reactivity to ozone, and the ability of a single “hot” item to ruin an entire space.

HT isn’t a just demon; it’s a metal-doped, quat-tainted biofilm complex pathogen that has to be deglued, de-metaled, and de-charged—preferably before anyone invites ozone to the party.

CT: The Confusion Layer in the Air Itself

CT gets blamed for the days when the world tilts three degrees off plumb: disorientation, derealization, brain fog thick enough to butter toast. Unlike HT’s clingy surface film, CT behaves like an atmospheric layer—especially outdoors on high-ozone or inversion days, or indoors after enthusiastic “freshening.” Mechanistically, CT looks like a cocktail of secondary organic aerosols (SOA) and microbial volatiles riding ultrafines.

Here’s the chemistry: terpenes (from trees, cleaners, fragranced products), aromatics (from fuel/exhaust), and pesticides/herbicides oxidize in the presence of ozone, hydroxyl radicals, and NOx, yielding carbonyls—formaldehyde, acetaldehyde, nonanal, and friends—plus peroxides and oligomers that condense into submicron particles. These are small enough to reach alveoli and even interact along the olfactory route, a privileged expressway to the CNS. Add fungal MVOCs and fragments from environmental growth and you get a haze that is chemically busy and neurologically persuasive.

Why the “confusion” angle? Carbonyls and peroxides hit multiple targets: they form adducts with proteins, alter ion channel behavior, and spike oxidative stress, which the brain translates into a grab-bag of cognitive and affective disturbances. In sensitive systems already primed by prior exposure (or carrying low-level inflammation), a modest uptick in SOA load feels like the floor slipping. Beam-forming 5G vs. older 4G is relevant not as a villain swap but as a field geometry change: denser microcells, tighter beams, and more complex pulsing can shift how charged aerosols behave near the body and how surface films on skin and textiles hold charge. No mysticism required—just physics plus a noseful of oxidized organics.

Water and ozone again play their trickster roles. Humidity swings alter aerosol size distributions and deposition patterns; ozone spikes create new carbonyls on contact with terpene-rich indoor air and fragrance residues. The resulting airborne contamination does not cling like HT, but it bathes everything; hence the global brain-fog days reported across neighborhoods, and the quick relief when winds change or filters with real adsorbent beds (hello, activated carbon/chemisorbents) start pulling their weight.

CT is what happens when the sky turns into a chemistry set and your brain is the beaker. The fix is avoidance, decon, and getting out of the plume, plus indoor measures: part filtration, part source control, and part refusing to manufacture aldehydes for sport.

MT: The Sewer-Tinged Mystery That Feels Like a Chemical Uppercut

MT is the one that smells like a noir plot: storm drains, wastewater plants, vents burping up something memorably awful. Unlike HT’s wildfire surface spread or CT’s region-wide haze, MT is episodic and source-skewed. The chemistry points to reduced sulfur compounds and amines from anaerobic microbial metabolism—H₂S, methyl mercaptan, dimethyl sulfide, ammonia/amine mixes—plus fragments of anaerobic biofilms (Gram-negative endotoxin, fungal spores) hitching a ride on damp aerosols.

Sulfur volatiles are potent at vanishing concentrations. H₂S inhibits cytochrome c oxidase and messes with mitochondrial respiration; mercaptans and amines are strong mucosal irritants; together they alter neuronal excitability and provoke nausea, headache, and that special brand of “I have to leave now.” Sewer gas plumes can also co-emit aerosolized biofilm bits, providing a biological adjuvant—LPS and β-glucan—that primes the immune system so the same dose of chemical irritant hits harder. Add oxidants (sunny day photochemistry, indoor ozone machines) and you get derivative aldehydes that linger after the plume moves on.

Why does MT usually lack the interminable cross-contamination of HT? Volatiles disperse; endotoxin and spores settle and can be removed with mechanical cleaning and moisture control. The exceptional stickiness lives more with the sewer-derived films formed where moist plumes condense—inside drains, on nearby textiles, and on certain plastics—especially if quats or metal-rich dusts are already present to cross-link whatever lands. In those hotspots, MT can masquerade as HT until the source is actually addressed.

Practical management is mercifully direct: block the pathway. Water seals that aren’t dry, traps that actually trap, venting that vents outdoors rather than into crawlspaces, and—where infrastructure is hopeless—physical isolation from inlets during plume windows. Indoors, structural cleaning removes deposited biofilm fragments; selective oxidizers come after enzyme/chelator/surfactant steps so the residue isn’t “cured” in place. RVers often find that treatment of grey and black water tanks with enzymes and beneficial yeasts and probiotics are key to preventing or fixing MT in the tanks. Outdoors, distance and timing dominate: avoid the downwind line on treatment days, and treat exposed textiles/devices as if they sat in a low, sulfurous drizzle (because they did).

MT is sewer gas plus microbial glitter. Don’t perfume it, don’t ozone it, don’t argue with it—block it and clean what it touched. If it’s coming from your tanks, try bringing in the microbial good cops: enzymes, yeasts and bacteria to break down the badness…and don’t forget to keep PLENTY of water in that black tank.

Closing Notes

Across HT, CT, and MT, the plot twist is the same: what feels supernatural is usually chemistry + physics + micro-biology, stacked. Metals cross-link and catalyze, quats charge and glue, oxidants fragment and aerosolize, and biofilm residues play the world’s stickiest supporting role. The nervous system reacts not because it’s dramatic, but because ions, membranes, and oxidative stress are how neurons vote.

Do the boring things first—leave the mold, stop the exposure. Then unstack the deck: strip the films (enzymes/surfactants/chelators), neutralize charge, filter the air without creating ozone, avoid fragrance-terpene chemistry, block sewer plumes, and use protective biofilms only once surfaces are truly clean. Add the spiritual boundary if that’s part of the experience (many report it is), and some literal grounding so surfaces and bodies stop acting like static capacitors. The result is not perfection; it’s predictability—the nervous system’s favorite flavor.

If readers want to cross-reference lived experience with mechanistic clues, community catalogs such as paradigmchange.me contain a trove of observations that mirror the behaviors described here.