A Very Long Response

This was a reply to a comment to my last post from MM, but it got to be so long that I just decided to make a post out of it...

Thanks MM.  It is always a relief when someone really gets what I'm experiencing.   I am looking for a DO, and fortunately, our insurance does also cover naturopaths.  Our family doctor is really good in that he doesn't make me feel anxious, and he does understand that a lot of my health issues are anxiety related.  I understand that too, which is really half the battle, but sometimes I am asking myself, what is causing me to be so anxious?

I think there are often real physical things going on that create that brain chemistry and hormone soup.  That's what I'm trying to get to the bottom of, and my doctor tends to pat my hand and say, "Just take an antidepressant; it's easier than trying to do the hard work of changing your lifestyle and diet when you're already depressed."  He also doesn't have the time to sort it all out with me. 

That's okay.  I've become a pretty amazing doctor of my own self.  I've also appreciated my doctor for recognizing that.  I usually go in and tell him what my problem is and what I want his help with and he'll do it.  For some reason, though.  I am really nervous about taking that step.  I think I've figured out the whys of that also.

Last time I saw my doctor it lead to a very scary series of events.  The possibility of cancer existed, and I was facing a procedure under anesthesia, which is something I've never done and terrifies me.  I managed to dodge that bullet because things worked themselves out before the date of the hysteroscomy arrived. I had developed a very thick lining in my uterus - over an inch thick!  I attribute that development to my dermatologist who insisted a shot of cortisone would make me so happy and change my life.  That shot did clear up my severe eczema very nicely, but I started bleeding a couple of weeks after that and didn't stop for a month. 

I went into a deep depression and period of severe anxiety after that.  I took both an antidepressant and an anti-anxiety medication.  My sleep became so disturbed and messed up even with the drugs or maybe because of them. 

I came out of all of that feeling fine and well, but I haven't seen a doctor since.  Which leaves me where I am now: experiencing uncharactaristic indigestion and bloating over the last year, which I think is probably a perimenopausal symptom.  I should see a doctor to rule out other things, which would relieve a lot of the anxiety I have about it all.  A really good doctor might even be able to help me balance the hormones which I suspect are creating the extra anxiety and related symptoms.

I'm still sitting on all of that. For now.

Getting to the Heart of the Matter

(Jumping in and pretending it hasn't been 3 months since I last wrote...)

Two recent additions to my diet

I've had a lot of anxiety over the past few months.  I've been experiencing several "symptoms" that  have had me wondering if I'm experiencing heart problems or if I'm just a nervous wreck.  I know a lot of what I'm feeling is post traumatic stress over losing friends and nearly losing friends to heart disease and cancer this year.  The older I get, the more I see people in my age group getting sick and dieing.  It's scary.

Watching other people experience serious health issues has heightened my awareness of my own issues. More specifically, I'm experience several digestive problems: frequent heart burn, reflux, indigestion, bloating, shortness of breath (which I attribute to bloating and anxiety) and pain in my chest, neck, and back.  I find myself wondering constantly if these could be symptoms of heart problems instead of simple digestive issues due to being over-weight and under-active.

I'm overdue for a physical.  I know I should see a doctor to rule out more serious things.  There are many reasons I haven't made an appointment, probably the biggest one being that I have developed a slight distrust of medical doctors.  Fear, being a close second reason for procrastination.  I will go.  Eventually.  It doesn't matter who or how many people tell me to do it.  I'll do it when I'm ready.  I am currently looking for a doctor who has a philosophy of health maintenance more similar to mine and one who won't just had me an anti-depressant, some xanax and sleep medication.  I've been down that road.  It's a band-aid that covers up underlying problems and creates new problems.  I want real health, not an illusion.

Anyway, one day while I was having an episode of indigestion and pain, I remembered that my dad has a hiatal hernia, and my grandma had one, and the way they described feeling was exactly the way I was feeling.  A quick search on the internet led me to stories of others feeling exactly what I was feeling including the worry about heart disease.  So I've been paying closer attention to what I eat.  I found some exercises that are designed to ease the top of the stomach back through the diaphragm in case I am correct about the hiatal hernia, and I've added some foods to my diet that aid digestion.  It's helped.  The daily bloating and indigestion has become less frequent, and when I do experience it I've found that a pinch of fennel seeds really does help ease the problem. (I was skeptical.)

I'm still feeling depressed and very anxious at times.  I think hormones are a big part of the picture, but I'll write about that another day.  I've been doing a lot of reading and researching.  I'm trying to put into practice those things that I think will help (an exercise in trusting my inner wisdom) but it's a process that takes time.

I also think there is a spiritual/psychological component to the digestion problems I'm having.  Repressed anger, "biting my tongue," and things, "I can't stomach," but again, that's a post for another day.

Finding The Track and Getting Back

It's time for me to wake up and become a major player in my life again.  I've been disengaged the last couple of months, but I'm ready to stop thinking about the things I could do to feel happier, healthier, and more present and start doing them.  I had a wake-up call regarding my health recently.  I'm fine, I think, still probably need a trip to the doctor, but a wake up call was needed, and I'm working proactively to live as well as I can.

I installed an app on my phone called, "Lift," to help me track my goals.  I've only started with a few, aiming to get a daily yoga practice happening five days a week, fifteen minutes of tackling problem areas in my house each day, and clean eating five days a week.  Oh!  And I added a goal to actually check in with my calendar and to do list each morning.

I did my yoga this morning, and I'll admit that the main reason I did it was so I could check it off in the app -- it would be a shame to fail on the first day --

but I did it.

Ready for Change

Last night while I was lying awake in bed I was doing the math.  In the last two months, six people that I have known have died.  Two people that I know have had brain surgery, one of those is still in the hospital recovering, and she lost her son in a logging accident this week (one of the six and a former playmate of my own kids'). The other one who had brain surgery is the son of a friend of mine.  They will be meeting with an oncologist in a few days.  Another friend's husband is in the hospital recovering from the stroke he had the day after his quadruple bypass.  He's relearning how to walk and talk and eat and breathe. 

Of the six who died, three were due to heart ailments, one from breast cancer, and two from tragic accidents.  Three of them were my age, one was my son's age, and two were my dad's age.

This seems quite remarkable to me.  Has there been this much catastrophe in my circle of friends and acquaintances before, and I just haven't noticed?  I don't think so.  I think this is really odd, and it has me a bit shell-shocked.  I'm not wallowing, really I'm not, but I am experiencing some post traumatic stress.  I'm hyper-sensitive in my body.  Every twinge or pain catches my full attention and has me wondering if something serious is beginning.  I'm watching my husband and my kids more closely, and when I'm not being overly cautious and sensitive I'm numbing myself and trying to just not think by playing stupid games on the computer and sleeping as much as I can.

My mind has turned to spiritual things, to end of life things, to big weighty things, and I've been battling a lot of negative thinking.  I'm hoping and sensing that change is in the air.  The weather has improved, we have our pool set up and the deck cleaned off.  We'll be attending a couple of weddings in the next two months, and I'm looking forward to a big group camping trip with friends.  I don't know what purpose this season of painful change has served for all of us, but I sense it has served a purpose.  However, I'm ready for some lightness and joy, and I'm not going to take a moment of it for granted.

Sad

Yesterday I found out that the dad of one of my best friends in high school died of a heart attack while he was riding his bicycle.  Today I found out that an acquaintance of mine from high school died after an 8 year battle with breast cancer, and while I didn't know her well, we were friends on Facebook and I had been following her story.  My husband and I are attending two memorials over the next two weeks for the two friends who died last month. 

These things weigh on me.  I know people die every day, and we all lose loved ones and friends.  It's part of life, but when these things occur so close together, one on the heals of another that I haven't yet fully recovered from, the sadness of it builds up in my system on a cellular level and interferes with my ability to function.

I'm not trying to draw any conclusions, learn any lessons, or strive to improve myself through this.  No, for once, I'm just going to acknowledge and honor this part of myself.  I'm affected by this.  I know I'm not suffering in the same way as those who lost a partner, a dad, or a brother, and I'm not looking for sympathy or support.  I just want to say I'm sad.

Goodbye Snake. Hello Horse! Happy New Year!

I had a CRAZY week last week in both good and bad ways.  I'm not worried about the bad anymore.  It's behind me.  The good?  Well, the Seahawks won the Superbowl, and we had so much fun watching that game and celebrating.  There were fireworks going off all around the neighborhood, my husband was jumping up and down like a little boy on Christmas morning, and after the game relatives called to talk and share the joy.  It's the first time the Seahawks have won the Superbowl, if that gives you any idea how exciting this was for everyone who is a fan.

I also had a couple of dinner dates last week and enjoyed catching up with some friends.  I feel like my old self again, and it's such a good thing.  Or maybe I'm even better than my old self, a stronger, wiser me.  The dormancy of the last two years has not been wasted time, all that ruminating and reflecting, shedding old thought patterns and toxic relationships has taught me a lot.

I'm still doing well with the lower carb eating.  My weight this week is 245.2 pounds and my waist is 39 inches.  That's 4.4 pounds and another inch lost which makes a total of 12.2 pounds and 4 inches from my waist in the last 3 weeks. 

In other news, I'm learning some new stuff, brushing up on my Spanish and pulling out my jewelry making supplies to start making some pendants and things.   I'm happy.

Hangin' Up My Slippers

I'm gonna keep this short.  I'm planning to start checking in more often.  Dare I hope for a daily note, even if it's just to say I'm still hangin' in there?  We'll see. 

I'm struggling a little bit.  The Winter Blahs have set in and when those set in early, like they have done this year, the blahs clash, BIG time, with my Holiday Shit-Storm.  The Holiday Shit-Storm is when I run around with an expectation of perfection and try to do it all, but I always fall short.

Cookies, homemade wrapping paper, snowflakes with the kids, parties, shopping, beautiful decorations.

How on earth am I going to accomplish that in the state I'm in?  I won't.  So, right now, I'm going to just have one expectation of myself, and that is...wait for it.  It's a biggie. 

I'm going to get dressed when I wake up.

Yeah, that's it.  I've been living in my pajamas, fuzzy pink slippers, and bathrobe, and call me crazy, but I  just don't feel that energetic or productive in that getup, so I'm going to make a point of getting dressed when I wake up, instead of 5 minutes before my husband is due home.

What happens when the Winter Blues and the Holiday Shit-Storm occur concurrently?   I have to lower my expectations, that's what.

Goodbye September

September is usually my favorite month of the year.  I can always count on sunshine, crisp and cool mornings, and a feeling of renewed motivation.  This September has been a disappointment.  It has been gray and rainy, and yesterday was my wedding anniversary, but I spent it sick.  I'm still sick, and there is more gloomy weather to come.

I probably shouldn't complain.  We just had one of the nicest Summers I can remember, but I feel like I squandered it.   I should have used the time to get my body moving and develop some healthy habits so that I would have a leg up as I enter the time of year that I find most challenging. 

I gained weight this Summer instead of losing it.  Now what can I expect for the dark days of Fall and Winter?  More weight gain?

But see?  This is the type of thinking that I'm working to change.  Beating myself up for not doing what I should be doing is my norm, and it's not working.  Trying to make better choices so that I can be happier is not working.  What if I decided to just be happier regardless of the choices I'm making?  I wonder if being happier would lead to better choices and not the other way around.  I know it would, so I'm going to resist beating myself up and go back to accepting and loving myself, knowing I can be happy right now.

I'm also going to let myself rest and recover from this illness and shake this feeling that the house is falling down around me because I don't have the energy to get it cleaned up.  I'm going to spend the next 30 seconds grieving for the loss of my favorite month, (lost because I thought I needed the sunshine to allow myself to be happy in it, not because it was gray) and look forward to the days to come because I'm going to be happy in them no matter what it looks like outside and no matter how tired and achy I feel.

Despairing

Today I thought I'd do real life for a day to see if I liked it.  I did not.  I've been ignoring the world around me, hiding in my computer, pretending the real world doesn't exist.  When I opened my eyes, determined to deal with the stuff I've been pushing aside and saw what a mess there is around me I got pissed off.

I'm pissed that when I check out, nobody covers for me.  I'm pissed that I have to ask for every single thing I need, and if I don't nag or persuade or manipulate the people around me things don't happen.  Or I could just do it all myself.  If only that were possible.

And then I realize I'm being unfair.  My husband is working long hours to pay the bills.  My kids do whatever I ask, even if it is with deep sighs and rolling eyeballs.

I'm pissed off at myself.  Why can't I keep it all together?  Why can't I handle my shit without getting overwhelmed and sinking into a world that exists inside myself?  Why do I check out until things are crumbling all around me? 

I don't like real life.  I'm not built for it.  I want to go back to sleep.

Trying to Stay Awake

I feel myself falling asleep again, so soon after waking up.  That's what the last episode of depression  felt like.  I didn't feel sad or scared, or at all angry, as I have in past.  Numb.  Asleep.  That's how I felt, and I can feel myself sliding back down into that.

So, I thought I would start walking again.  I wondered if I could just force myself to do it, knowing the positive effect it would have on my mood and health.  I made a plan to begin a couple of days ago, washed my clothes and set out my walking shoes.

Then I stepped off the deck and twisted my ankle.

I won't be walking for a few days.

Do you see an ankle?  I don't.

Progress Report

I'm getting closer to living one of those ordinary days in my perfect life. For the last four days I've worked in my garden, planting, harvesting, and weeding; I've had a breakfast smoothie, complete with spinach from my little garden, and I've done a little basic yoga, not outside in my backyard, but in the privacy of my living room, even though the weather has been perfect.

 I've gotten a much later start each day than I'd like, but better late than never. The yoga has gotten easier after just four days, which amazes me. The first day when I tried moving from a cobra position into a downward dog, which requires flipping my toes and pushing my bottom into the air, I couldn't do it. I figured I was too bulky and heavy, and that movement was just not possible for someone my size. I can do it now.

 

I've really been enjoying my garden this week too.  It's just a little one, but when I look at it, I make plans in my head for additions to it.  I love watching the things I planted grow.  My kids are loving it too.  This is the first vegetable garden I've ever grown, and it's gratifying to be learning something new alongside them. 

There are other positive changes coming, to be sure, but for now I'm going to rest with this new routine I've created and get very comfortable with it before I try to add something new.  It seems to be working.  I can feel the clouds of depression lifting and burning off with the sun, and I'm looking forward to the day when getting dressed and walking out the front door feels normal again instead of being a stress-inducing chore.

Ugh.  Another night has passed with no sleeping.  I fell asleep somewhere around 5:00 this morning.  Even then I didn't sleep well.  Maybe this will tell you what kind of sleeper I am.  I need to go out and buy new sheets because I have rubbed two holes in them; one where my foot digs in and one where my elbow digs in when I roll over, which is probably a hundred times a night.

I did a sleep study once.  I didn't sleep.  I told the doctor I wouldn't sleep because I know I never sleep the first night in a new place.  Anyway, in the morning, I learned from the technician in charge of me for the evening that the staff made fun of me all night.  She had to make a note on my chart every time I moved, and I guess she didn't get much time to rest during the evening either.

Sleeping pills do not work for me.  I've tried every kind, prescription, over the counter, natural remedies, you name it.  There was one thing my doctor prescribed that worked really well until all of a sudden it started causing me to have upsetting jerky muscle spasms.

Wine works. I'm trying not to drink wine so much though because it also helps make me fat.  Besides, when I drink wine every night I need to drink more and more to actually sleep.  I wake up hating myself.  Wine is not a good sleep medication.

You might think that after enough nights of not sleeping eventually I will start sleeping again if I just keep getting up at my regular time.  Not necessarily.  I went through a period of not sleeping once, and I made myself get up every morning and not take naps.  I was sure that my body would get into a rhythm, and I would sleep again at night.  It didn't happen, and my mental health deteriorated badly.  I had, what I guess would be called in the old days, a nervous breakdown.  I ended up on anti-anxiety medication and antidepressants, and I started seeing a therapist.  I've learned that when I go through a period of insomnia, I need to catch sleep whenever I can, even if it is in the middle of the day.

My skin is also broken out right now.  I've had eczema my whole life, been to countless doctors, tried countless therapies, both medical and natural, and I've never found a cure for myself.  I've had long stretches where its gone into remission, and I've had extremely bad flares.  Right now it's just annoying.

I'm not complaining or whining, just documenting what I'm experiencing right now because these are a couple of health issues that have plagued me through the years and contribute to my depression. I'm wondering if healthy living would create a spontaneous healing of these issues. I hope to find out.