She kept a diary of her plastic use. It was 'soul crushing'

Plastic is everywhere.

It's in our bodies: our lung tissue, our blood and in the dark, tarry first defecation of newborns. It's been discovered in the deepest recesses of the ocean and in the snow of pristine alpine peaks and meadows. It's in the wind, in the dust, in the air we breathe and in our drinking water and food.

Small bits and minuscule strings of plastic has become so pervasive that it now cycles "through the Earth in a manner akin to global biogeochemical cycles," such as water, carbon, nitrogen or oxygen. Microplastics evaporate from the ocean and land, then get picked up by the jet stream before being deposited on our trees, crops, rivers and lakes. From there, the cycle starts again.

Then there are the horrifying statistics about the petroleum byproduct's ubiquity: By the year 2050, some researchers predict there will be more plastic by weight in the ocean than fish, and every week a person will consume 5 grams of plastic, or a credit card's worth.

And despite growing public awareness, economists estimate the production of plastic will continue to grow.

The problem is, because plastic never fully decomposes — it just breaks down into smaller and smaller bits — the more we produce and purchase, the more we allow in our bodies, in our water and our air. It just keeps piling up.

In fact, research suggests the largest producer of microplastics into our atmosphere is our oceans. Why? Because for 50 years, the oceans have accumulated a growing pile of plastic waste. And we've dumped so much that as the material breaks down — and floats to the surface — particles evaporate  and drift with the wind to land.

As an environment reporter, I am acutely aware of the problem. I read about it constantly. I also work hard to minimize the amount of plastic to which I am exposed. And I thought I was pretty good at it. Until I agreed to this assignment.

At some point this spring, one of my editors at The Los Angeles Times called and we talked about me setting aside a week to chronicle my daily plastic interactions.

In June, I made my first attempt and was immediately overwhelmed; just taking stock of my desk environment had me reconsidering my plastic self-awareness.

Here's an excerpt: "Clippy for my hair; airpods case; plastic on teakettle; windows are glass, but casings are vinyl; bird decals on windows (to keep birds from striking the glass); computer casing; monitor; CO2 monitor; cordless phone charger; all the USB cords on my desk; mouse; mouse pad; cone around dog's head (he just had surgery); clip on his "lick sleeve"; my belt is clearly some sort of non-natural product; my  exercise pants are a petroleum byproduct, for sure."

I suppose I could be excused for listing nondisposable, non-single use plastics — which environmentalists suggest are really the scourge — but the following day, I realized I had a problem there, too.

I was traveling from San Francisco to Montreal. There was no escaping single-use plastics in the airport or on the airplane.

While waiting at the gate, my husband went to get us some food for the flight. He returned with three plastic, clamshell boxes containing healthy, organic food.

On the plane, even though I'd brought a steel cup for beverages, the flight attendant poured my drink into a single-use plastic cup, before pouring the contents into my cup. I sat there and calculated the waste from this one flight: roughly 120 people on board, with most getting two drinks — so, let's say 200 plastic cups. (And that's not counting the meals, which are all wrapped in a plastic shrink-wrap.) Multiply that by the estimated 100,000 flights on any given day — and you get the picture.

But even back home, I couldn't escape the plastic. Buying pasta for dinner? Guess what, the box of the spaghetti brand I enjoy most has a plastic "window" cut out of the cardboard box. The chicken I bought for a curry dish? Wrapped in plastic and on a polystyrene tray.

When I went to shop for produce, I ordinarily would have bought a box of organic leafy greens — which come in a plastic, single-use clamshell-type container. But, mindful of all the plastic I was collecting in my shopping cart, I elected instead to buy heads of lettuce and spinach. Fortunately, my local grocery store has "compostable" plastic bags for produce; a luxury not available at all supermarkets (because plastic is cheaper).

And it didn't end there. I took stock of the equipment I use for exercise. I'm a swimmer. And everything I use for swimming is either plastic, or some form of petroleum byproduct: goggles; swim cap; suit; swim buoy; fins; paddles; swim bag.

Even in my own body, I have plastic — and not the microplastics I mentioned above. Two, C-cup sized patties of plastic.

I'm a breast cancer survivor and had a double mastectomy several years ago. I chose to get reconstructive surgery and now have two plastic implants under my skin and pressed against my chest wall.

Looking at the accumulation of plastic my family and I had amassed over the week — I live with my husband and together we have five teenagers — it was hard not to be  overwhelmed.

Which isn't to say there aren't a lot of wonderful things about plastic. It makes my car lighter, and therefore more energy efficient. Its lightweight and durable properties make it an excellent material to wear on my head in the form of a helmet when I bicycle. And I know that when I order things online for delivery, the reduced weight makes it more energy-sparing than other materials, but the accumulation of waste over the week appalled me.

So there's clearly too much out there. Statistics and research suggest that no amount of recycling is going to get us out of this mess.

U.S. studies show that only about 5% of the more than 50 million tons of annual plastic waste gets recycled (50 million tons of plastic is roughly the same weight as 25 million cars).

What to do?

Activists and environmentalists say we can work to contain our plastic footprint; we can try to buy food that only come in paper, cardboard, glass or aluminum. But as I learned this week, it's almost impossible to avoid it altogether — especially for people who have other time commitments during the day, such as work, kids, hobbies, a need to exercise.

Some lawmakers have decided to step in and try to make a dent, and environmentalists are hopeful government pressure can make a change if voluntary cutbacks by companies don't work. The business of plastic is lucrative: In 2022, the plastic industry was valued at more than $600 billion.

For instance, more than a dozen states have banned plastic bags — the poster children of wasteful, single-use plastics.

Other states are passing laws to require that all packaging be recyclable or compostable within the next decade. 

In the meantime, researchers are trying to understand the health implications of having microplastics in our bodies. They know associated additive and plasticizer compounds — such as Bisphenol A and phthalates — have been linked to illness and disease in humans and animals.

Environmentalists say it's hard not to get discouraged. But they also point to a growing awareness and consumer consciousness they believe could staunch the flow of plastics into our water, air, soil and bodies.

We live in a world where convenience is expected, and the consequences of that lifestyle are largely hidden from us. But people are beginning to see ... one journal entry at a time.