You Say You Want A Resolution (Or How I Learned To Wear Lipstick)

It's that time of year again...the time when we swear off chocolate, promise ourselves we'll work out more, and commit to losing some weight.  And, if you're over the age of 20, you'll know that New Year's resolutions last about 4 days.  But, I think that the practice of looking forward to a blank new calendar is beneficial.  It's ok to want to start new.  So, how can I make resolutions that take advantage of this time to begin anew while understanding that my high and lofty goals will crash and burn before Ground Hog Day?  The same way I learned to wear lipstick.

Generally, I am not much of a makeup person.  Less is more on my face.  But, I think lipstick makes my face look more formal and complete.  I just HATE the concept of lipstick...all of the reapplying of color and staining of water glasses is not my cup of tea.  So, I found a product that worked for what I really wanted.   It is called lip stain.  I apply this mofo once a day and it stays on for 12-ish hours without needing to reapply. 

So, I had the product, the trick was adding into my makeup routine.  Again, I am not a heavily made up kind of gal, so putting another step into the process was a big deal for me.  But, I was committed.  To accommodate my new cosmetic, I did a small rearrangement in my regimen.  I used to get all of my makeup on then brush my teeth.  Now, I put all of my makeup on, brush my teeth, then apply lip stain (so the toothbrush doesn't mess it up).  I feel like a genius AND I am now the proud owner of  lovely lips. 

As I think over the resolutions that I want to make, using the same technique for change seems logical to me.  Find something that works for me...make small tweaks to fit it into my life...and enjoy the benefits of a tiny, but edifying change. 


I am making 3 resolutions this January.  They are not your traditional resolutions...but they are mine and I am excited about them.

1. I resolve to do what I want.  I don't mean this in a selfish or uncaring way.  It's just that, lately, I've noticed that I have made rules for my life where there should merely be preference.  I should decorate my house the way I want to...raise my children the way I want to...read the books I like...wear the clothes I am comfortable in.   All WITHOUT apology.  Who cares what the trends are?  Not me.  What does it matter if my favorite sweater is no longer in style? It doesn't.  Who knows my kids better than I do?  NOBODY. 

2. I resolve to let my children sort out their own differences without intervening every time.  It's not helping them learn how to manage relationships if I am always stepping in doling out consequences and saying the words that my children should really be saying to one another.  I like peace in my home.  Sometimes letting the kids work it out is going to involve yelling and tears.  I'm choosing to be OK with that.  It's better for all of us if I teach the boys how to navigate their own interpersonal conflicts.

3. I resolve to take myself less seriously.  The reality is that no one is as invested in what I do than me.  My friends and neighbors don't care nearly as much about my life as I imagine they do.  So, if I forgive myself for my missteps and laugh off my dumbest moments...no one's really going to be effected but me. 

To accomplish these things I'm going to have to make small choices.  As the situations present themselves I'll be faced with the decision to do it like I've always done it or take a tiny step forward toward being happier.

In the spirit of change, I hope that you can keep to any resolutions that you make!  Have a safe and happy New Year!!

The Great Exhale

You know what my favorite part of Christmas is?  When it's over!  (ba-dum-ch) 

We had a really nice holiday this year, but I feel like I've been holding my breath and pushing through for the last 6 weeks (if not longer).  The stress deposited into my muscles.  They clinched involuntarily.  I forgot to breathe.  Pressure built and built.  The roller coaster climbed to it's highest height and then finally... it was Christmas Day.  We celebrated.  It was over. 

The day after Christmas is my very favorite day of the year.  It's like someone has pushed a release valve on a pressure cooker.  I feel warm and peaceful and still.  My shoulders are softened...my jaw is relaxed...I am smiling and full of hope for the coming year.  It won't last.  It never does.  But today I resolve to enjoy The Great Exhale.  I will revel in the calm and appreciate the warm glow of possibility as the New Year approaches. 

The Results Are In...December Update

Right before Thanksgiving I did a follow up spit test to check my hormone and adrenal levels.  After waiting for the lab to process the results, I saw my naturopath today and got good news about my adrenals.  I've moved from Level 7 adrenal fatigue to Level 4!  That means we're on the right track.  She switched my medications and we will keep actively working on it for another 3 months. I am hopeful that we can resolve my cortisol issues.

The rest of the labs were not as good.  I still have high estrogen and low progesterone...that means 3 more months of medication to try and balance my levels.  It's been so long since I was out of balance that I can't even imagine a world where I don't have hormone issues.

We then moved onto the topic of mental health since I have seen my annual uptick in anxiety. ( I chose this naturopathic doctor because she is a specialist in neurotransmitters.)  We haven't run the tests yet, but she is conjecturing that I have some deeper issues than just low serotonin.  I have symptoms of several different nutrient absorption disorders that cause neurotransmitter imbalances.  In March we will run the tests to see for sure if I have one of the disorders that she suspects.  Thankfully, even if I test positive the remedy is fairly simple...but the effects would be dramatic.

I really do have hope that we can remedy a lot of the junk I am dealing with health-wise.  The thing that I appreciate most about naturopathic medicine is that they desire to get at the root of the issue...the WHY?  Ultimately, treating the cause instead of just the symptoms is going to be more beneficial.  So, for now, I will keep working the Type A diet, taking my obscene amount of supplements (10), and livin' life...and hopefully my next 3 month report will show more improvement. 

On Keeping Christ In Christmas

I might lose some of you with this post...I love you anyway and thanks for coming with me on my journey this far.

I wrote earlier this month (click here for post) about some of the struggles I have with some of the Midwest American Christmas traditions.  Today's post is going to focus on the struggles I have as an American Christian at Christmas.

The story of my faith always begins with, "I wasn't raised in church."  My family has a faith but for various reasons we wove in and out of churches my whole life.  But never, NOT EVER, did my parents forget to remind us throughout the Christmas season that this celebration was about Jesus and His coming to Earth as a baby.  We always read the Christmas story from Luke and remembered Jesus on His day.

You know what else we did?  We had a Christmas tree.  We made popcorn strings and paper chains to put around our tree.  We made candy and cookies and bought presents.  We had Santa Claus AND St. Nicholas (when we were in Germany)...we left him the homemade cookies that we had slathered with hot pink frosting that was supposed to be red.  We read the T'was Night Before Christmas and watched The Grinch Who Stole Christmas.  We sang O Come All Ye Faithful and Santa Claus Is Coming To Town.  Do you know what was wrong with those traditions?  Nothing.  Not one damn thing.

It irritates me when Christians get extra churchy at this time of year.  Keep Christ in CHRISTmas.  He's The Reason For The Season.  Santa is an anagram for Satan.  It's Merry Christmas...not Happy Holidays.  Our Christmas Card MUST have a picture of Jesus NOT some snowman...and CERTAINLY not Santa.  To me it's all Branson-y, hokey, propaganda.

For me, as an all-or-nothing thinker (thanks perfectionism), this pressure to be extra super duper Christian during Christmas makes me feel false guilt.  It pushes me to measure myself up to other believers and wonder why I am not as religious at  this time of year.  What is wrong with me?  Lots of things.  But guilt for doing Santa or buying my kids a toy instead of donating the money to African water wells does not belong on my shoulders.

Do I love Jesus?  YES!  I love Him from the depths of my guts.  He is my only Hope.  He loved me when I was His enemy and still loves me even when I fail.  When I die, I can only plead the Blood of Jesus as my reason for spending eternity with God.  I was never good enough...I will NEVER be good enough to be in the presence of God...except by the sacrifice of Jesus.  During this season I think about Him.  I wonder things about His birth...about His mom.  I wonder what He was like as a baby.  It's heartbreaking to think of a tiny baby sleeping in a dirty cow trough.  In a few years this little guy would shoulder the sin of eternity and purposely die a nasty, bloody, shameful death for no legal reason..but die so that I wouldn't have to be separated from God.

Is it possible to think on Him while I am setting out the Santa presents?  You BET it is!  Can I worship God as I sing O Holy Night and follow it up with Jingle Bells?  Yes.  Can I love Jesus and still say Happy Hanukkah to my Jewish friends?  Yes...yes I can.  

How do I keep Christ in Christmas?  I'm IN Him every day.  He is the reason I love.  He is the reason I serve.  He is the reason I give.  He is the reason I have whatever joy and peace I possess.   I can do those things without putting the nativity on my lawn each December.  I keep Christ in Christmas by keeping Him in all of the days of my life...not just the ones between Thanksgiving and New Year.

Merry Christmas!
I love all y'all.

The Sins Of The Mother

I was planning to continue writing about Christmas and what I am doing to navigate it, but there is something weighing so heavily on my heart that I can't focus on writing that Christmas post quite yet.

You see, I have this son...I've been calling him Big Brother on this blog.  He's almost 6 1/2.  And...he's struggling...I'm struggling to watch him struggle.  My heart is literally in agony for this child.  There is deep, visceral anger in the heart of my child.  He is angry all of the time.  But, it's not just "I didn't get my way so I'm gonna yell now"...it's more intense and more raw than that. 

He's having trouble making friends at school; playing by himself all of the time.  We have tons of kids in our neighborhood, but nobody plays with Big Brother. He goes to a different school, so that might be a factor, but otherwise, I'm not sure what the deal is.  He's starting to make up stories about who he played with and what they played.  I can tell it's a story because of the way he tells it, he's clearly just making it up from the top of his head...that breaks my heart.

He will come home from school with a sour face and his head hung low.  When I ask him how his day went, he'll say "not good" and then tell me about a minor behavior infraction he committed at school...talking, getting out of line, etc.  My tiny little perfectionist is mad at himself that he messed up...that breaks my heart.

He is constantly yelling, seething, or withdrawing during interactions with our family.  On days when he is happy, my heart soars with him and I try to keep from being too hard on him and ruining that mojo. 

The reason his behaviors sucker punch me in the guts is that when I look at him...I see me...and that breaks my heart.

I had trouble making friends, I was overly sad when I messed up, I had anger in my heart (though I held it inside).  I know the struggles I've had...the pain I've had...and I desperately don't want that for him. 

Additionally, Big Brother is what I call an "empath".  He feels what other people feel, especially me.  He's been like that since he was born.  I think all children have this quality, but his is VERY pronounced and dominant for him.  So, when I see all of this anger and perfectionism and loneliness in my son I know that he's seen it modeled by me.  I HATE THAT!  That knowledge is too big for me to shoulder. This is one instance where I am going to have to put on my big girl pants, forgive myself, and put all of my energy into helping my son.

The first thing I am going to do is spend more time pleading with Jesus for my son's heart.  I'll pray that he will be healed from this anger, that God will bring him a friend, and that he will learn not to be so hard on himself.  God made my baby and He will care for my baby.

Secondly, I am going to talk to some educational professionals and find some good books on parenting gifted children.  I'm pretty sure my son has a high IQ (I'm speaking as an educator...not just a proud mommy).  There is a giant difference between "smart" and "gifted".  Gifted is a diagnosis of sorts.  It comes with many negative behaviors and experiences, including isolation from peers and struggles with finding friendship.  I think getting as informed as I can about this topic will be beneficial. 

Lastly, I will have to make lots of efforts to intentionally teach and correct some of the perfectionistic and angry tendencies of my son.  I've been learning a lot about myself and now I can related it to my son, who is showing signs of similar struggles.  Since he's brainy, he'll be able to grasp this information and hopefully make use of it. 

I love my son more than I love my own life.  I will do whatever is in my power to help him navigate this journey.  

Christmas Aversion

 "Ooh! I hates Christmas!"

-Yosemite Sam (Bugs Bunny's Christmas Carol)

  

 

I don't hate ACTUAL Christmas.  Christmas is a wonderful holiday full of family, warmth, and hope.  There are just some things about this season that I just can't identify with.  Happy crafters who are dumbfounded that I don't wish to set a holiday display on my mantle stress me out.   People who obsess about finding that perfect gift drive me crazy.  I don't own a set of Christmas dishes, loathe the constant blast of Christmas music, and get crabby when it's time to decorate the tree.   It's as if there is some far and wide Midwestern American idea of what the Christmas season should be like...and...I don't get it.  That makes me feel lonely.  I find myself wondering WHY I roll my eyes, heave a sigh, and grouch my way through the holidays.  This year, I may have found my answer. 

 

Last weekend I was mentally preparing myself for the emotional assault that is the Holiday Season.  I was reflecting on the hangups I have and wondering what my deal was.  Then, it occurred to me a lot of these things really ARE foreign concepts to me.  Until I was 11 years old, my dad was in the Army.  Because of this, there was never a "going to grandmas" feel to the holiday season.  My experiences with Christmas have created a unique lens with which I view this holiday.

 

When I was 3 years old, I spent Christmas a nuclear weapons facility in, what was then, West Germany.  My dad's job was to guard the Pershing II missiles that were housed in this location.  He would be gone for several months at a time.  That year, his rotation happened to include the month of December.  Soldiers were not allowed to leave the facility when they were on rotation.  To boost morale, their wives and children were bussed from the base several hours away.  My pregnant mom and I rode this large, school bus-like vehicle on Christmas evening.  I got to see my dad for two hours, then we boarded the bus and rode back home late Christmas night. 

 

The Christmas I was 6 was spent at my aunt and uncle's house in a small Kansas town.  Again, my dad wasn't around because he was in school to change his MOS (something like a career change).  I didn't see him at all that Christmas.  My 8th Christmas was spent on an Army base in Georgia, where it was sunny and 75 degrees...we even turned on the air conditioner.  My dad was there, but the climate didn't make it seem very Christmas-y.

 

Probably the most dramatic Christmas I had was when I was 9.  My dad had been deployed to Saudi Arabia for Operation Desert Shield (which morphed into Desert Storm).  Their company left on December 1st.  So, instead of having warm, cheerful, carefree holiday fun, I stood in a blindingly bright, stark gym and hugged my daddy goodbye.  Instead of cute holiday crafting, I attended company support group meetings with my mom and the other families that were left behind where we put together care packages for our loved ones.  The only ribbons that we tied that Christmas were yellow.

 

My mom was so depressed the year that my dad was deployed that we didn't even set up a tree.  We had one of those 12 inch tall ceramic lamps that was shaped like a Christmas tree...the presents went under that.  To ensure that we didn't spend Christmas alone, a wealthy, middle aged couple (that we barely knew) from our church invited us to stay at their house.  It was a glorious retreat.  It smelled like earthy firewood and I got to sleep in a feather bed for the first time in my life. 

 

After that year, my dad retired from the military and he was always around at Christmas.  But after so many years of being away from our extended family and having to adapt differently to all of the Christmas curveballs that were thrown at us, our Christmases were still always changing.  One year we spent Christmas with our extended family, another year we had my grandma over to our house, some years just the four of us celebrated together.  I even spent two Christmases in Florida with my parents when they had a midlife crisis and moved south. 

 

These are some of my Christmas memories.  While there is sadness held within these experiences, there was also life, laughter, and togetherness that bonded me to my family.  This traditional American culture of Christmas is not my reality.  My exposure to this time of year is a little more gritty and untidy.  So, to honor my understanding of the Christmas holiday, I am going to observe it the way I want to. I will choose not to acknowledge the outside pressures of how things "should" be at Christmas, but instead, select the traditions that are most meaningful to me and to my family and discard the ones that I find to be tedious, absurd, and extraneous.  (I will write another post that will outline this attitude more specifically)  It is my hope that, by being true to my history, some my emotional hostility toward all things Christmas will, at least partially, dissipate. 



Tis The Season To Be Anxious

My anxiety/depression is VERY cyclical.  I can almost predict what state of mind I will be battling against by the month of the year.  Well, it's Fall now and I have fallen headlong into my worst anxiety season.  It starts trickling in during September, ramps up in October then goes full force though November and the first few weeks of December. 

I first became aware of it when I was 25.  My husband and I had been married for a year and we were trying to get pregnant.  Suddenly, in September, I began to notice some strange symptoms.  I was having difficulty catching my breath.  Numbness and tingling began to present on the right side of my face.  My head felt weird, like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand.  One day at work, my lips went numb.   I rushed out of the classroom and called my doctor. 

After a series of tests, one Emergency Room visit, an appointment with both a neurologist and a seizure specialist, and a week long seizure study, it was concluded that I had...anxiety.  By the time that diagnosis came down, I was 6 weeks pregnant and could not start any medication.  So, I just chalked it up to some weird season of life anxiety and moved on with my life. 

Looking back now, I've had some version of anxiety since the summer before I started college.  For some reason, though (I'm guessing hormone changes), since that big flare up when I was 25, I've had pretty rough anxiety every fall since (for those of you who are wondering how old I might be...I'm 32 now...it's been SEVEN years). 

There is not really an impetus for my anxiety.  No strong stressors are present in my life right now, though there is probably some connection with the busyness and perceived pressure of the impending holiday season.  My most acute symptoms are physical rather than emotional.  So, generally, I think I am coping well until my body reminds me otherwise.

My symptoms are so frightening that, if I hadn't been through this countless times before, I would rush myself to the Emergency Room.  My symptoms include heart palpitations when I lay down, digestive issues, shortness of breath, holding my breath, hyperventilating, extreme muscle tension and tightness in my neck, shoulders, and chest, and a weird heavy, pinching pain behind my right knee.  All of these symptoms are listed as indications of dozens of life threatening medical conditions.  But, I've had nearly EVERY system in my body scanned, tested, and imaged.  My organs and systems are running just fine.  It's all in my brain chemistry. 

While I am on A medication, I'm not sure it's the RIGHT medication for my anxiety (it helps IMMENSELY with my depression).  I'm not ready to mess with a psychiatrist, which is what the next step would be if I needed to combine or switch meds.  So, in order to address this wretched season of panic, I have to make a plan and stick with it.

Here are some strategies I have/plan to put in place to address my body's rebellion:

• Limit sugar.  The holidays come at the WORST possible time for me.  It's sort of a chicken or egg situation.  Does my anxiety flare up because of my diet?  Is my anxiety already at it's peak and the diet just worsens it?  I don't know.  What I do know is that I've eaten FAR too much Halloween candy over the last week.  It's not healthy for my body...it's not good for my anxiety.
• Limit commitments.  The holiday season is hard.  I'm already fragile for several reasons then we add the hustle and bustle that occurs between Thanksgiving and New Year (my husband's extended family pushes their Christmas festivities until the weekend after Christmas).  I am deciding this year that I will not take on any hosting duties, extra projects, or volunteer activities during this time.  I know it's supposed to be the season of selflessness, but I can't give my time like I wish I could.  I have a mental illness and pretending that I can do it all isn't going to help anyone.
• Chill out.  I'm letting some stuff slide this Holiday season.  My sister and I came up with a plan to streamline holiday gift giving, which I am choosing to take on a little at a time.  I'm doing minimal holiday decorating.  Christmas card photo appointments will go on the books in the next few days, and we are wearing clothing we already own...it'll be coordinated enough. 
• No RUMINATING!  I will commit to NOT rehearse holiday interactions in my mind.  Taking events as they come will be my best strategy for coping with my anxiety this holiday season.  Nothing turns out the way we plan and spending mental energy on what ifs literally makes me crazy.

It will still be challenging, it always is.  But I can use the tools I have in my mental health toolbox to lessen the impact that this illness has on my life and relationships. 

Rumination

"Rumination is a process that involves deeply reflecting on a situation. When rumination becomes difficult to control, it can lead to negative psychological effects including depression and phobias (Note: also anxiety). The inability to stop ruminating on a particular thought is a hallmark of obsession." ~http://phobias.about.com/od/introductiontophobias/g/ruminationdef.htm

So many times on this blog I have shared that I have trouble with obsessive thoughts.  Well, a quick Google search (cause that's how I roll) brought up an entire facet of my illness that I thought was just a personality quirk.  Apparently, it's not normal to replay your failures over and over in your head.  Who knew?  Certainly not me.  I've always thought that there was something to be gleaned from running over a situation obsessively...not that there was any evidence of that. 

Even though it has not been my "training", I still have this sneaking feeling that God is mad at me every time I screw up.  I feel like everyone else has more self control, or is cooler under pressure, or quieter in a crowd, or able to resist anything which has Nutella in/on it.  So, when I inevitably fail, that failure hits me on a mental, physical, and spiritual level.  Then, because of my imbalances and habits, I keep asking it to punch me again, because this time "I CAN TAKE IT!".  I can take the truth about how my loud mouthed, overly opinionated, weak willed self!!  Except...I can't.  I never will.  I wasn't meant to.

Here's where life gets tricky.  Self-reflection and repentance are tenets of my faith.  I am supposed to be aware of my shortcomings, present them to God, and turn away from them. My trouble is I just obsess about my own shortcomings and try to figure out ways to change or modify my behavior.  It's not my first (or second, or ninetieth) instinct to present my shortcomings to God. 

The shock and scandal of a pastor's "fall from grace" is always amusing to me.  No, I am not a sadist who enjoys the pain of others.  It's just that...all Christians are a big nasty mess, that's why we're in church.  Jesus called to our broken, alienated, dark and brooding hearts...and because His call is irresistible, we answered.  That's it.  He called...we answered.  He didn't send me on a quest to find forgiveness.  He didn't make me pass a test to gauge the purity of my heart.  He didn't ask me a riddle to check the soundness of my mind.  He just loved me... before I ever loved Him. 

But..sometimes when we get something of great value given to us we feel like we are indebted to the giver and ashamed that we can't give an equally valuable gift in return.  When I was an impoverished college student, my teenaged sister worked a TON and was very generous with her gifts.  Instead of just being grateful, I was kind of embarrassed that I sometimes had to rely on the generosity of a high school kid.  I didn't have anything to offer her.  So, every time she bought me something, I had a little twinge of shame. 

That's the issue that I have with confessing my failures to Jesus.  It's not that He's ever asked me to repay him or has made a snide remark about having to give me more mercy than that girl over there...He's never done those things.  The problem isn't with Jesus.  The problem is me.  If I am ever going to have freedom from the obsessive rumination of my failures...I have to just get over myself and trust that I have forgiveness and love in Jesus. 

Just like all the other junk I am sorting through this year, ruminating will be a tough habit to break.  I've done it since I was a kid.  My strategies are aimed at hitting rumination where it lives...my heart and mind.  I plan to continue with positive self talk (which includes Biblical truth).  Also, many of the articles I read suggest pure distraction.  While I don't always think that's the way to go, for my situation it's going to be helpful.  Having been a stay at home mom for so many years, I had the mental free time to allow obsessive thoughts to run wild.  Going to work has helped IMMENSELY with this issue.  I also plan to have hope.  Hope is often a casualty of rumination.  I get SO entrenched in the thoughts that I can't imagine that there is any shred of good in me.  Because I am in God's family, that is not true.  I'm a spotless bride in the eyes of God.  I want to live like that's true. 

Pregnacy Loss Awareness:What Are The Odds? (Repost From 2010)

NOTE: October 15th is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.  Though October is riddled with "awareness", I am very thankful that someone thought to set aside a day to remember the children that we've lost...or in my case, the one I never met. 

Having a miscarriage is a devastating experience.  People offer you comfort, but unless they've lost a baby, they can't know the surreal, confusing, ache that is born when your child ISN'T.  Even after the event, life after miscarriage/infant loss continues to have twinges of pain and confusion.  Every August 20th, I find myself remembering the procedure to remove the baby from my womb.  He/she should have been born in late March.  I find myself thinking of my baby around that time.  I think about how old he/she would be now. 

Probably the weirdest thing is when people ask me how many children I have and my heart hurts as I say 2 (instead of 3).  In my heart I know I have THREE children...but it's unnecessary to go into that with strangers.  I've told my oldest son that he has a brother/sister that died in my tummy before his Little Brother was born...so whenever I call Little Brother my 2nd baby, Big Brother corrects me and says, "No mama, he's your 3rd baby."

The solace that I have when I think of that little one is that he/she is with Jesus.  He has named my child and knows him/her.  I will see that child when I go to be with God...and we will know one another.  That baby is in good hands.

I posted this is on Facebook when my youngest son was just a few weeks old.  Reading through it again, I am still moved by the amazing circumstances that helped bring some measure of healing as I celebrated a new baby and grieved the one I'd lost. 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
November 2010:
Today was baby dedication day at church.  It was a day filled with joy for me as I brought my new baby to church for the first time.  Though I had this little bundle in my arms I wept as the pastor mentioned that though we are celebrating these children it's important that we remember to walk with one another even in the pain of infertility and loss of a child.  My heart clinched in my chest as I reflected back on last year's baby dedication.

The Friday before last year's baby dedication I found out that the baby in my womb had stopped living 2 weeks before.  I was blindsided as I walked into church and heard that it was baby dedication day.  But, I belong to a God who knows me and cares for my heart.  By His grace I was honestly able to rejoice with those wonderful families that we had come to know over our first year at Redeemer.  I was grieving and experiencing deep and painful emotions from this loss.  Knowing my heart, God continued to care for me and showed me beautiful consideration over the next year.   His hand was so evident in every aspect of Baby Boy's conception, pregnancy and birth that I kept finding myself saying "what are the odds?".

What are the odds that:

The very day I had my scheduled yearly visit with my OBGYN I would have an implantation dip on my BBT chart (a family planning technique)...a biological sign that conception has occurred.

She would prescribe me progesterone for luteal phase defect during that visit...and this medicine would get me through my first trimester as my progesterone levels were low...the same cause of my previous miscarriage.

For my anxiety ridden 6 week sonogram, I would have the same technician who had to give me the news that my last baby was no longer living...who now joyfully told me we had a heartbeat...a technician I never saw outside of those two circumstances.

The Lord would change my mind from having a 40 week induction to a 41st week induction...which allowed for some phenomenal time with Big Boy as I enjoyed an unexplained burst of energy my last week of pregnancy.

On the Sunday before my induction, my pastor's wife would have her baby 2 weeks early causing a fill in preacher to preach a wonderfully healing message about all things working together for the good of those who love the Lord...a sermon where he spent considerable time talking about finding hope in God through death and miscarriage...and how sometimes God will show His purpose and sometimes He won't...but He always has a purpose.

My OB would be out of town at the end of  my 41st week resulting in my having to deliver at a different hospital... the hospital that I could not bear to drive by as it reminded me of the surgery I had there that removed my lost baby from my womb...the hospital where I could now happily associate a wonderful, healthy birth.

And today would be another baby dedication...a once a year event...last year it was in August...this year it just HAPPENS to be the day we are ready for the baby to venture out to church.

I would say the odds of these things just randomly happening by circumstance are fairly low.  No, instead I see all of these things as carefully orchestrated events that God brought into my life to promote healing and increase my love and devotion for Him.  What a kind and loving God to know my heart and the pain and confusion inside of it.  What a powerful God to allow me to literally see how connected moments of life can be . 

Today I worshiped the God who not only gave His own son in order that I might be able to be in a relationship with Him, but is an active and caring participant in that relationship.
He loves me, and I know it.  He doesn't have to show me anything or reveal His work in my life, but this time He did and I am so thankful.

An Object At Rest

The most acute symptom of Adrenal Fatigue is well...fatigue.  Fatigue is different than tiredness.  It’s an all-consuming, never ending, constant exhaustion.  It almost feels like my body is a black hole that feeds on energy.  Often, my arms and legs feel like they are full of lead and I can’t keep my eyes open.  My muscles ache and my mind is foggy.

A full night’s sleep is rare.  I usually wake up at least once a night to go to the bathroom, or because my hips hurt, or to take care of my 2.5 year who is still night waking on a regular basis.  Even when I CAN get a good night sleep, it often doesn’t help.  I still wake up tired and stay tired all day. 

 My naturopathic doctor “prescribed” naps for me, but that doesn’t always work for a couple of reasons.  First, my days are either spent working as a substitute teacher or caring for my home and preschool aged son.  Napping at work is frowned upon and my preschooler’s nap schedule is spotty at best.  The few times I’ve tried to nap while he stays awake at “rest time” have ended with him creating gross messes. 

Secondly, some days I just have stuff to do.  The dishes don’t wash themselves.  The laundry doesn’t put itself away.  I sometimes need to shop online for things I don’t have time to go get in person.  Though I am tired, I can power through enough to make it until bed time.  Do I enjoy cleaning my house when I feel like I am walking through knee-deep mud?  No, no I do not.  Is it necessary some days to do it anyway? Yes.

Lastly, I feel guilty for napping every day.  I feel like a pampered, lazy, whiner who can’t hack grown up life.  While those things are (mostly) untrue, I still have that message at the back of my mind.  Taking a nap instead of cleaning something makes me feel like I am wasting my day…frittering away valuable work time. 

Today I have a Great Wall sized pile of dishes, about 4 million loads of laundry to wash/dry/put away, and every room in my home is being plagued with clutter.  But, damn if I don’t need a nap right now.  I am SO exhausted…I just want to sleep.  I don’t even have the wherewithal to pry my tuchas out of this here chair.

This illness continues to throw out symptom after symptom and I am being forced by my body to take it seriously. I have a chronic illness.  Something is actually physically wrong with my body and creating a real and tangible fatigue.   If I am ever going to feel better, I need to get over myself and really taking resting seriously.  I need to rest my body and my mind and not worry about the things that need to be done.  They will get done.  And if they don’t they must not be that important.

 

It's EVERYTHING Awareness Month

Oh, October!  Crisp temperatures, warm cider, soft sweaters, boots, and Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  And National Coming Out Day (11th). And Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.  And National Squirrel Awareness Month (completely true).  Here is a list of ALL of the awareness movements in October. 

My theory about why October is uber-awareness month has to do with cash flow.  I think that it's an easy month to raise money.  The weather is great for 5ks and marathons.  People haven't quite started tightening purse strings to prepare for Christmas shopping.  Additionally, people seem to feel really good at the beginning of fall...I imagine that effects their compassionate giving as well.

I don't think that all of the awareness days properly belong in October.  Case in point... Mental Illness Awareness Week.  It is supposed to be observed the first full week of October...the year it's the 6th-12th.  But, if I were to choose an awareness week it would be in January or February...when people statistically report feeling their emotional lowest.  Blue Monday (the 3rd Monday of January) is a new phenomenon whereby people report being the most depressed.

Although Blue Monday is decried as a pseudoscientific date, I would be willing to wager that a large amount of people who suffer from depression would admit that January and February are the hardest months.  I realize that depression is NOT the only mental illness...but it is often a SYMPTOM of many other mental illnesses.  Depression is listed as a symptom (or comorbid illness) of: bipolar disorder, anxiety, schizophrenia, PTSD, anorexia, bulimia, insomnia, addiction, substance abuse, autism spectrum disorders, sadistic personality disorder...and so on and so on.

But, here we are...it's October and next week is Mental Illness Awareness Week.  What are we going to do about it?  First, if you suspect that you have depression, October 10th is Depression Screening Day.  Get screened.  You already suspect it.  Get it checked out.  Here is a link to an online screening...you can also search the web to find screenings in your area.

Secondly, get informed.  Mental illness has lost a lot of its stigma in recent years, but there is still a lot of work to do.  Here is a fact sheet on the topic of mental illness.  Mental illness affects someone you love (statistically).  It's not just Crazy Aunt Marge The Stinky Cat Lady.  It's your mom, your uncle, your husband, your child, your coworkers, anyone. 

Finally, get HELP.  If YOU think you have a mental illness, tell a medical professional.  They will NOT think you are crazy (and if they do, get a different doctor).  A lot of mental illness are simple chemical imbalances that can be corrected or lessened by taking a tiny little pill (or sometimes even simple lifestyle changes).  If you have trauma that has contributed to your mental health trouble...go see a counselor.  They will NOT think you are crazy (and if you ARE crazy, don't you want someone to come alongside you and help you find your way back to sanity?).  Counselors, therapists, and psychiatrists are trained to help people with mental health problems.  They are FOR you. 

If you think (or know) that someone you love has a mental illness, don't hate them, don't fear them, don't think you can save them...just be in relationship with them.  These resources are available to you too.  Ask a counselor how to best care for your husband, wife, child, dad.  They have tons of coping strategies for you.  Google it.  Look for trustworthy sites that give information of living with a person who is mentally ill.  Get informed and figure out how to navigate through life with them. 

Mental Illness is a real thing that affects real people ( a LOT of people).  The more we can understand how our broken brains affect our lives, the more intentional we can be about addressing that brokenness.  Life will never be perfect.  Things in this world are not the way they are supposed to be.  But, with compassion, information, love, and grit, we can do our best to show God's kindness to our loved ones with mental illnesses. 

Silencing The Voice In My Head

Ok, that title makes me sound crazier than I actually am!  What I want to chat about today are the messages that we give ourselves each day and in times of failure or need. 

My Inner Dialogue is mean as hell.  She's the one who tells me I am a failure...that I am worthless...that no one really likes me...that I'm ugly and disgusting to behold...that God is disappointed with me, again.  This voice rarely says anything positive or productive.   (If she says something edifying, I get suspicious of her motives.) 

The cutting words of my Inner Dialogue are not the same as the whisper of the Holy Spirit.  Holy Spirit convicts me when I am wrong and brings me to repentance and peace.  Inner Dialogue's job is to keep me obsessing and emotionally impotent.  This is the voice that blames me for everything that goes wrong in my life.  She heaps shame and guilt on me whether or not I deserve it.  Her words beat my heart up and then kick me mercilessly when I am down.  She wants me as far from the peace of God as possible.

One of the new tools in my toolbox of emotional well being is using positive self talk to combat my Inner Dialogue.  It's an intentional conversation I have to have with myself in order to give myself an appropriate perspective.  Sometimes I use words from the Bible to make her stop talking.  I repeat the over and over as I find myself tensing up and clenching my jaw.  "Jesus died for me when I was still His enemy and He loves me desperately...Nothing can separate me from His love."  Most of the time, though, my new messages are basic and small.  "I did my best, that's all I can do" or "This is NOT my fault, things just happen sometimes" or "I made a mistake, I'll do better next time". 

While those might sound like dumb things to have to tell yourself, they REALLY help me.  I have a very hard time forgiving myself for mistakes and missteps.  Giving myself permission to forgive myself and gaining perspective on the size of the mistake allows me to get out from under the crushing weight of the accusations of Inner Dialogue.

I am sharing this as I face a "failure" this week.  My "new" SUV is in the shop for the 3rd time in the month we've owned it.  It's been in for several different problems, but this time they found a VERY serious and expensive problem.  They tried to make us pay nearly $1,000 for the fix (which was only HALF of it).  I got mad.  They sold me a broken car and I wasn't going to pay for a $1,000 dollar repair 30 DAYS after I bought a car.  I plead my case and they agreed to completely cover the cost of the repairs.  I actually think that's fair.  I shouldn't have to replace a WHOLE system a month in...that's bad business on their part.  BUT...

Inner Dialogue is saying, "well, you're stupid for buying a broken car in the first place" and "you should pay for it because you're the idiot who bought the car" and "you're just trying to get something for nothing by complaining".  She's wrong...and most of me understands that.  In order to keep her from pushing me down I've had to actively tell myself, "you made a good choice based on the facts you had.  The car had low miles, a clean Carfax, and supposedly had all of the major systems inspected and serviced" and "They sold ME a broken car... this is their problem to rectify" and "It's not pushy to communicate unfairness and stand up for yourself". 

I'm dead serious when I say that I am minute by minute having to run through these messages in my mind.  Inner Dialogue is relentless and constant.  I won't stand for it this time. I will not allow the voice in my head to bring me low and push me into depression over a damned car.  Keeping your sanity is WORK, but it's work worth doing. 

Workin' For A Livin'

In an earlier post (link here), I outlined the many reasons why I decided to increase the time I spend working outside of my home. I’ve been back to work as a substitute teacher for about 3 weeks now. Because it’s the beginning of the year, however, I've only worked 6 out of 12 days. (Teachers don’t like to be gone the first few weeks of school and there are some blackout days around the Labor Day holiday when classroom teachers risk being docked pay if they call in.)

I’ve already seen some outcomes in the few short weeks I’ve been back to work. Here is an update on each of the areas of my life that the work-at home balance effects.

• The Endlessness: I’m going to be honest here; it has been WONDERFUL to be able to have some completion in my life. Stay at home mothering has frustrated my need to achieve. Every day I work I have a beginning, middle, and end to my day. When it’s over, I can feel confident that I did my best, leave the day behind, and go home and enjoy my family and home.

Additionally, nearly EVERY day that I have worked this quarter, other teachers/paras/aides have specifically asked me to leave my name and number so they can request me in the future. I am a really good sub and it’s so encouraging to have other professionals validate my work. I don’t say that to brag, but to contrast it with what it has felt like to be a stay at home mom. I never get good feedback for my mothering. I seldom believe that I am a really good mom. By making mothering my “vocation”, I have been lost in a sea of criticism (self, peer, societal, etc.) I still get to deal with that criticism because I am still a mother. But, by adding in another element of vocational expression, I have lowered the stakes with regard to my performance as a mom.

• Boredom: Girl, I ain’t got time to be bored! My days go SOOOO much faster now. I get up at 5:45am, get myself ready, team up with my husband to get the kids ready, drop Little Brother off at preschool or Nana’s house and go to school. I’m there until 3:30. From there I usually run to the store or run another errand, go pick up the kids, head home, cook dinner, hang out with kiddos, clean up from dinner, do bedtime, hang out with my husband, take a shower, and go to bed at 10:30. It’s a FULL day. I don’t mind busy-ness as long as it feels productive and well managed.

One thing that has been a little different is that I am making a conscious effort to keep my evenings free. My time with my kids is much more precious to me now. I only have a few hours with them each evening and I want to enjoy them and love on them…hear about their days. As a vocational mom, evenings were a chance to get out of the house and have some adult time. I’m getting that need met at work now, so now I have to guard my time with my boys.

• Extrovert Needs: I get to talk to new people every day. There are children, staff, faculty, and parents that I have the opportunity to engage each day that I work. I’m not developing deep and meaningful relationships…I already have those. What I need is an outlet to express my extroversion…to use my words…to make connections with human beings each day…to be part of a larger whole. I am most assuredly not feeling very lonely right now.

Even though the general trajectory of this endeavor is positive, not everything is 100% awesome. Little Brother wails pitifully every morning that I drop him off at school and it breaks my heart(even though he loves it once he's been there for about 10 minutes) and every night at dinner he tells me he missed me and cried for me at school. But, any guilt I feel when he cries at preschool drop off is balanced by the knowledge that I am doing this for him…for his brother…for our whole family. Yes, adding more work days into my schedule is about me and getting some of my needs met. In the grander scheme, though, I need to have my needs met so that I have a full cup to pour out into them. I’m not worn out from the endlessness, boredom, and loneliness. I’m free to give them my full attention and energy in the little window of time we have together. My heart is lighter and there is joy in my smile again. That joy comes from honoring the way I was created instead of trying to push myself into some role that just doesn’t fit the shape of my soul.

State Of The Struggle Address: September 2013

It's been over nine months since I began my intentional endeavor to work on my mental/physical health.  Since then I've learned more about my body and what makes it work/not work.  Many of the modifications I've made to my lifestyle have been easy to maintain...others...not so much.  What's most exciting is that I am beginning to be OK with realizing that transforming my life to promote optimal physical and mental health is going to be a marathon and not a sprint. 

Some positive new developments:

1. I pretty much do not eat nightshade vegetables, potatoes, wheat based pasta, dairy (except my allowed cheeses and yogurt) pork, red meat, or shellfish...EVER.  They're on my list of items not to consume...and I've avoided them except for the odd occasion.

 2. For the most part I've eliminated beer and mixed drinks from my diet.  I've also cut out most soft drinks.  My sister introduced me to a lightly flavored seltzer water that is a great substitute for soda and has no sugar or artificial flavorings.

 3. My depression is MUCH MUCH better.  I've been taking my medicine religiously and working very hard to avoid stress (although it finds me!).  I'm hardly ever manifesting rage and have been able to enjoy my family in a more complete way.

 4. School has started and I am back to work.  The new rhythm that my family is finding seems very positive.

 Some things that need work:

1. After work, especially, I still DESIRE and often consume extra food.  I am not really hungry or craving anything, it's just a habit...kind of an exhale from my day.  I'm trying to combat this by packing a healthy (but desirable) snack in my lunch for after school

2. I've gotten back into the sugar habit again (and refined flour buns for hot dogs and burgers...turkey of course).  I was doing so well.  I don't even really want it anymore, it's just a habit, like muscle memory.  The only thing I can do about it at this point is to pray and to try my best to form new habits to take the place of eating sugar. 

3. I haven't starting exercising regularly yet.  My husband just helped to clear the space for my at-home yoga studio this weekend.  At 9:00pm, I plan to go upstairs to do 30 min of yoga each weeknight.  It should help me unwind and get ready for bed.  I was supposed to try and fit yoga in between work and picking the kids up from school, but yoga isn't going to fit into the schedule at that time.

4.  I'm having physical anxiety symptoms.  My mind is fine and I am not really actively worrying about anything, but my body is still taking a hit whenever stress presents itself.  I think yoga and meditation will help. 

So, that's what's going on in my fight to stay sane and healthy.  Overall, I am happy with how things are going.  Yes, there are things that need improvement, but I'll do what I can and continue on this journey one choice at a time.

Timing Is Everything

NOTE: Because I have a handful of small ideas to communicate, I'm posting in bullet form today!  Yay!  All of the bullets are tied together by the concept of timing. 


Most of us have had experience with good timing, bad timing, tragic timing, etc.  It's weird how our perception of an event can change around it's relation to timing.  Here are a few things going on in my world that are effected by timing.

• My naturopath and I chatted about the timing of one of my supplements.  I had been taking it in the morning and then again around 3:00, but I was getting REALLY sleepy around dinner time.  We changed the 2nd dose to bed time.  HUGE difference.  I am falling asleep more easily and waking up with more pep than normal.  Timing

• Last week some stress came into our lives in the form of a 2nd van break in (in a 30 day span). Timing.  We woke up at 3am to the sound of our car alarm and went outside to find the window smashed to a billion pieces and the window frame bent out of shape.  The previous break in had resulted in a missing ignition and busted steering column.  Needless to say we had to spend tons of money on repairs.  Though the anti theft features of our vehicle were preventing theft, the thieves were still able to make two, big, expensive messes in the meantime. 

• In order to prevent further damage, we decided it was prudent to trade our big, lovely van in for something that fit into our small garage.  This was a tough call as we had JUST paid off the van in June.  The trade in value is MUCH, MUCH less than the pay off value, so it feels like we threw away our money paying off the van.  I don't think that the trade in value of the van would have been such a slap in the face if we hadn't JUST paid it off.  Timing.

• My former foster kids are going to be at church this Sunday (some friends at church are providing respite for them).  While we will be upbeat and positive when we see them, I have no idea what this is going to do to me on the inside.  I shared in a previous post that our foster placement was pretty rough and the end was even rougher.  I'm just starting to feel better and take some intentional steps to accept grace.  It's impossible to know what impact this will have until it happens.  On the flip side, it's been over a year since we've seen them. If they had attended church at any time before this, I can be QUITE certain that I would need to be hospitalized for a nervous breakdown.  Timing.

Whatever the timing, I can know this...we'll make it through.  My adrenal fatigue will be treated...we will be happy with the new SUV we traded the van for...I will be able to bounce back from seeing my former foster kids.  We've endured worse circumstances and will be faced with worse circumstances in the future.  God has always gotten us through.  I've learned that the most important blessing He can give me when the road of life gets bumpy is His peace. 

Stress Test

The reason why I am and will likely always be a pessimist is because of seasons like the one my little family is in right now.  Having recently been diagnosed with adrenal fatigue, I've been making a concerted effort to avoid excess stress.  But, I'll be danged if stress doesn't always FIND me. 

The last 2-3 weeks have been filled with busyness, traveling, organizing and hosting children's birthday parties, dealing with (and paying for) property crime for the 2nd time this summer, getting both boys back to school, managing tired and emotional kids who just went back on a school schedule, adjusting to my husband starting a new job (with longer hours) on the same day my Big Boy started school, researching new cars, stressing about car payments and trade in value, preparing to start work again, necessary craft projects with short deadlines, and blah, blah, blah, and so on and so on.  Adrenal fatigue makes my threshold of stress much lower than the average person.  So, even though there is nothing major going on, I am feeling stressed.  It seems like all of these minor stresses just keep layering on top of one another until I find myself oppressed by stressed.  When I stop and think about all of the things that need my energy I get very overwhelmed.  I wonder WHY I can't get a break.

Now, I'm doing a lot of work with positive self talk and trying to manage my stress level.  My mind and heart are feeling good (mostly, my sister has had to talk me down a time...or five).  However, even if I am feeling really capable and confident that I can handle what's on my plate (so to speak) my body betrays me.  I have trouble breathing and get strange and disconcerting pains.  My shoulders tense, my jaw clenches, my face scrunches, and I begin to feel symptoms of anxiety. 

It's very ironic that I am engaged in a battle to stay peaceful and calm...what I weird thing to FIGHT for.  But, I have to.  I am unwell and unhappy and refuse to keep living this way.  There are a few strategies which have been beneficial in helping me guide my body through this season of stress. 

First, I'm trying not to hold my breath.  Being an intentional and deep breather does not some naturally to a person with anxiety.  Additionally, I am consciously relaxing my face.  I am always shocked at how tense my face is...like, ALL the time.  Releasing my skull muscles' kung fu grip tends to send a signal to the rest of my body to relax.  Finally, I am remembering that I am cared for by God.  We were blessed to have the means to pay for two different crime related car repairs.  It is the provision of God that my husband and I are both employed.  We have always been taken care of, through every storm (great or small) we have weathered in our 9 years together.  I can say nice things to myself all day (and it DOES help) but reflecting on the faithfulness of God is the most potent positive self talk I can engage in.  Counting my blessings has an uplifting and quieting effect on my steely muscles. 

Stress is life.  True story.  Learning how to manage my mind and my body are my ways of insuring that the stress of life doesn't make me a joyless bundle of crazy for the rest of my days. 

Cicada Song: My First Days As A Mother

Here in the Midwest, you know it's August when you hear the omnipresent song of the cicada.  Click HERE for audio if you are unfamiliar with this sound.  These insects begin chirping toward the end of July, but by August every hour of the day is filled with their loud hum.  To be honest, until I was 25, it never really left an impression on me. But, that year, my first son was born at the beginning of August.  Cicadas then became part of my story.

I won't go into the birth story except to say it was a good birth.  At 4:14pm I delivered a 10lb. 6oz baby boy.  After he was out of my womb they placed him on my chest and all I could think was "Oh.My.God. I have a baby.  What am I going to do with a baby?" 

Those few days in the hospital were filled with sleeplessness, learning about breastfeeding (and supplementation), diapering, and lots of paper work.  Then, it was time to go home.  As much as I hated being in the hospital, I just didn't know what I was going to do with him once we got him home.

I wish I could say once I got my new little (read very large) bundle into the house, all of that uncertainty melted away.  It didn't, it actually got worse as I crept into the mouth of the hole that is post-partum depression and anxiety those first few weeks.  He cried all the time because he was hungry.  Being such a big boy, he was eating every hour FOR an hour.  I had to have my husband hold him and walk around trying to soothe him while I took a break from nursing to eat, drink, and use the bathroom.  He was also the most awake newborn.  He barely slept during the day...all he did was nurse.  It was terrible.  I had called the lactation hotline 4-5 times.  His visits with the pediatrician hadn't gone well because he wasn't gaining weight.  Everything was exhausting and stressful and hard.   I remember falling into a heap on the floor by the bed (a few times) and with heaving sobs cry, over and over, "I don't know what to do with him!!" 

The agony of post-partum depression continued.  After having my son hospitalized for failure to regain birth weight, I decided to stop breastfeeding for the sake of my mental health.  The depression and anxiety associated with his failure to gain weight was causing me to be unable to bond with him.  Whenever he cried I just wanted to shake him.  I even hated the smell of him.  So, in order to save myself from myself, I put a bottle in my baby's mouth. 

During this tense and literally insane time, I did find one way to quiet my screaming baby and give myself the breather I needed.  When I just couldn't take it anymore, I took my baby outside and sat.  He stopped crying as soon as we stepped out onto the deck.  I could see him listening to the hum of the cicadas.  It worked every time!  My husband kept saying "we can't take him outside every time he cries."  I thought, "Like hell I can't!"  I took him onto the porch as much as possible.

That constant whir of insect voices gave me the only rest I felt in those first few weeks.  I felt confident that I knew ONE thing that would help my baby...ONE thing that made him happy.  It might have been small and not really all that beneficial to his overall health, but he liked it and I KNEW that about him.  Thus, I took my first teensy steps into the world of motherhood. 

My son is turning 6 this week.  And bless him...he's had to suffer through 6 years of mommy's "angries" (how I explained my depression to him).  I wish I would have been brave enough to get help for my depression when he was a baby.  I didn't take that step until after my 2nd son was born (and my first one was 3).  But, because God is gracious and merciful and kind, my son and I now enjoy a very close relationship. 

I get to have a relationship with a special boy who is smart and inventive...sweet and thoughtful...imaginative and filled with wonder.  He is a "sensitive".  He is strong, strong willed, and endlessly energetic.  He gives wonderful hugs and soft sweet kisses on the cheek.  I love him more than I love my own life. 

On those first days of August when I hear the cicadas sing, I am whisked back to those first days of pain and sadness...but then I reach over and hug my Big Boy and tell him the sweet story about when he was a giant baby and would only stop crying for the cicadas.  He giggles.  And we silently exchange love between our hearts. 

My Body Acceptance Manifesto

Dear friends, in a few of my latest posts I mentioned that I am going through a transformation with regard to my views on weight and health.  Here is an article that speaks about the latest study done on the topic of weight and health.  Basically, there was a slightly LOWER mortality rate for people who were overweight!  Not what you learned from Dr. Oz or the millions of issues of women's magazines that told you that being fat increases you risk of this disease or that cancer?  Additionally, there is a school of thought that says that some of these diseases linked to obesity are the CAUSE of weight gain and not the result (the camp I am in by the way).

I've been fat since I was 6 years old.  I didn't feel bad about it until an aunt began to make me feel guilty for the amount of food I was eating and used the word "fat" to describe me.  I went on SlimFast for the first time when I was 7 years old.  Off and on for 13 years I was on some kind of diet (even briefly dabbling in bulimia in middle school).  Finally, when I was 21, I went on Weight Watchers.  I lost 100lbs...then due to budget reasons, I quit the program.  Over the next decade I gained back ALL of the weight plus 25 pounds.    I've tried all kinds of things to lose weight and NOTHING has worked. 

Well, in the last few months, I've done some homework and have discovered that the diet and fitness industry is just that....an INDUSTRY!  They want our money and don't care about our health.  A giant portion of these companies pump people full of synthetic supplements that cost exorbitant amounts of money.  The rest require strict, tasteless, food plans that take all of the joy out of life and leave the dieter obsessed about how well they have conformed and guilty and ashamed that they "cheated".   Finally there is the mutilating of your intestinal tract that is weight loss surgery.  They surgically cut your stomach/intestines so that you can only eat and digest 4 ounces of food at a time...and you CAN'T EVER drink a beverage with a meal or it will throw the whole thing off.  What THE HELL!!!!!

I'm not doing this shit anymore.  I WILL NOT!  My worth is not determined by my clothing size or a number on a scale.  Though that's cliché, y'all KNOW that there is truth in that.  I am tired of obsessing about what's going into my mouth...counting calories and Points (it's not f*&%ing helping anyway).  I am finished with being ashamed about darkening the door of a Lane Bryant.  I'm weary of worrying whether or not my body is pleasing to those who behold it.  NO MORE! 

What I will NOT do:

• I will not complain that I am fat.
• I will not compare my body to another woman's body.  And I will not make self depreciating comments in comparison to another woman.
• I will not "diet".
• I will not feel ashamed to dress this body the way I wish to.
• I will decide not to internalize dirty looks or rude comments from any person with regard to my weight.
• I will not force you to adopt this attitude.  You do what you do, friend.  This is not the ultimate message I want to preach.  I hope you'll become happy with your own body but I'm not going to shame you into it.

What I WILL do:

• I will do my best to keep my body healthy.  If by getting my body healthy, I lose weight...I'm Ok with that.  If by getting healthy, nothing changes...I'm Ok with that too.
• I will move and strengthen my body through movement that I enjoy.
• I will eat the food that I know is healthy for me but not feel guilty when I can't follow my plan perfectly.  I still plan to follow the A Blood Type Diet.  It is a diet designed to alleviate inflammation, not for weight loss.  Sugar is still limited as well because it chemically exacerbates my anxiety and depression.
• I will teach my sons to respect all women, regardless of their outward appearance.  They don't have to fall in love with every woman, but by God they can be gentlemen to every woman.
• I will cultivate a confidence that comes from being strong and healthy enough to do the things I want to do.
• I will buy clothes NOW instead of waiting until I finally lose some weight...and will proudly enter into a Lane Bryant and clearly and unabashedly tell the associate my size.

So that, in a nutshell, is my plan for healing my body image.  Will I fail and falter in this journey?  Yes, yes I will.  I'm gonna have fat days and days when I feel self conscious and massive.  But, I am choosing not to STAY in those days.  Just like any other transformation, it's going to take the kindness of my God to remind me that I am loved no matter how wide my waist is.  And if I have that love, I'm good. 

Rockin' The Pill Box Like A Septugenarian

My supplements finally came in the mail on Wednesday of last week.  Up until then, all I'd been able to do from my prescription list was nap and do a little yoga.  For the last week, I've taken my little fistful of meds each morning, made a prescription grade smoothie, and taken a shot (from a medicine cup) of my supplemental tincture. 

 

Admittedly, it's already helping.  From morning until nap time, I have a good amount of energy.  I still need to play with the timing of my tincture to keep my energy up so that I don't HAVE to take a nap.   It's been so long since I've had energy, I am burning it faster than I should.  For instance last Friday I decided to clean my house all by myself (we had been doing it as a family on Saturday mornings)...I was exhausted by lunch time. 

 

Besides energy, I am noticing a more stabilized and even mood.  My irritation level has been greatly improved (Thank God, it's the last few weeks of summer and the kids are requiring more patience).  I haven't been inside my own head obsessively either.  Both of those improvements have been refreshing.

 

I have not been keeping track of my weight lately.  I'm going through am ideological change with regard to weight and health.  My doctor will keep track of it and I'll weigh myself every now and then, but I'm not watching the numbers daily like I had been.  Observationally, I have noticed that my tummy is even LESS puffy than it used to be.  My body is feeling stronger and more capable and that's really what I am shooting for.  I plan to do a post about this change in weight philosophy...I'll get around to it soon. ;)

 

So, after a week on my new supplements, I am feeling hopeful...hopeful that I won't have to take treatment to the next level...hopeful that we've finally discovered my underlying health issues...and hopeful that I CAN feel better.  

Facing Mad-ness: Perfectionism

In general, I don't believe in coincidence.  Too many things in my life have lined up perfectly and in unbelievable ways to ever think that life is just full of happy accidents.  So, I assume it wasn't a mere fluke when I caught a snippet of something on the TV or radio (I honestly don't remember which it was) that mentioned the correlation between perfectionism and depression.  Huh.  I began to wonder if there was a correlation between perfectionism and anger.  Doing what I always do, I of course Googled it.  Funny story...perfectionism is TREMENDOUSLY linked to anger (and depression and anxiety).   Here is a VERY accurate article about what it looks like to be a Christian perfectionist...there is a whole section devoted to anger...including anger toward God.

My name is Tiffany.  I am a perfectionist... and I AM ANGRY!...at myself...and a little bit at God...and a little bit at my children...and a little bit at my husband...and a little bit at anyone who has had the opportunity to see me be imperfect. 

It's not news to me that I am a perfectionist (click here for my post on perfectionism). What is news to me is how pervasive this trait has become in my life.  I am sad, stressed, and now I am SICK...all because I am not the person I wish I was...a person who is not possible. 

While there are lots of reasons why people become perfectionists (those reasons are for me and my therapist to work through)...now is the time to remedy it.  God has made me keenly aware of this issue and I would be foolish to continue living this way.  The best remedy for me has been changing the soundtrack in my mind.

I do have some mantras, but I really need to dig in and make time to choose new messages for my mind to mull over.  Because a lot of my self deprecation is related to my performance for God, I plan to search through the Bible and decide on a few encouraging verses to replace the mean voices in my brain. On my honor, I will only choose 1 or 2 verses to begin with.  One HUGE issue with perfectionism is setting goals and standards ludicrously high...unattainably high.  So, to combat that...I'm starting small...and staying small.  We'll see how it goes.  If it helps, I may add more...I may not. 

All of the articles I read on the topic made it very, very clear that healing from perfectionism is a LONG process.  I can't keep living this way...I'm ready to learn to accept my imperfect humanity. 

Soothing

Since I was diagnosed with adrenal fatigue this week, I've spent a lot of time researching ways to regulate stress, relax, and calm myself.  Mostly, I'm finding a lot of the same information...and that's annoying.  Not that I am the smartiest smarty pants on the planet, but most stress management is common sense.  As I've been mulling over strategies to help my mind heal my body, I thought of another word...SOOTHING.

Soothing, at least for me, carries a different connotation than relaxing or calming.  It means that something is red and raw and needs to have the sting removed.  Thinking of the concept of soothing brought to mind a recent encounter I had with a sunburn. 

A few weeks ago, I sustained one of the worst sunburns I've had in a LONG LONG time.  My sons and I went to the lake with a friend.  It was a great afternoon, but it ended with the exhausting twinge of a sunburn.  When I got home, the skin around my shoulders and upper back was so red it was nearly purple.  The entire area screamed with pain.  This wasn't one of those sunburns that allows you to move on with your life, rather it required my full attention and care to keep the agony at bay.

The thing with sunburns is that they keep cooking even after you've come in from the sun.  I'm not entirely certain of the biology, but from experience I know that my sunburns only gets worse after a few hours of being inside.  Thus, my first task was trying to stop the burning. 

Truthfully, I threw everything I had at this sunburn.  I had a very busy weekend coming up and I needed this thing under control as soon as possible.  I applied aloe, aloe with lidocaine, Noxema, and even tea compresses to my wounded skin.  Even with all of that effort, it still took two days for heat to stop radiating from my body. 

I think this is where I am right now in my journey toward emotional healing.  None of these stress management techniques or self care tips are going to be beneficial until I can soothe the raw, burning, wound in my soul.  There is this deep, desperate, rage in my heart.  If I am honest I can name a handful of reasons for this longstanding anger...but generally I have very little understanding of how or why I have reached this intense level of fury. 

Whenever I am under stress (which, because of my season of life and personality, is often several times a day), the stressor feels like someone taking a cheese grater to a sunburn.  Annoyances, injustices, financial burdens, relational issues, and fretful busy-ness fly into my heart and run their fingernails against my scorched emotions. The impetus for strain doesn't need to be anything major...it's really a barrage of small incidents building on top of one another that gets to me...like 1,000 paper cuts on an already damaged soul.  Until I can soothe the searing storm at my core, no matter what causes the tension, the gut reaction is going to be far more intense than is warranted. 

I don't really know how to soothe deep rooted anger.  As a Christian, what I SHOULD say is that I am relying God to heal my wounded soul.  I wish that I could say that prayer and Bible reading have been beneficial with regard to my inner rage.  The reality is that, often, the words of the Bible only serve to make me angrier and more filled with venom.  Lists and passages highlighting my innate imperfection only serve to heap on guilt and frustration.  When I go to the word for a cool compress for my inflamed heart, I am met with sharp clawed words of admonition and rebuke that I can't even hope to answer to.

I'm left with very little resources on the topic of soothing.  I even Googled it and basically got referred to stress management.  Un-helpful.  I want to be soothed...I need to be soothed...but the remedy remains shrouded in mystery for me.  

The Results Are In And The Winner Is...

Adrenal Fatigue! click here for an informational article

Before I unpack this diagnosis, I want to chat about the rest of my tests.  First and foremost, my thyroid is fine on all levels!  Hooray!  Most of my other levels were also within a healthy range.  That was a relief for me.

A few things were off for me though.  My vitamin D is still low.  I am currently taking a Vitamin D supplement and it's not helping enough, so I need a more potent dosage.  My Estrodal (Estrogen 2) levels were a little high and my Progesterone levels were a little low (which again, I suspected). 

The most significant information came from my Cortisol levels.  My levels were well BELOW normal range.  These levels were measured via saliva sample throughout the day (morning, noon, evening, night).  I don't even wake up with normal amounts of Cortisol and it only gets worse through the day.  Because of this, the lab put in in the Level 7 adrenal fatigue range...which is the most severe level. 

Basically adrenal fatigue happens when you are exposed to long term stress.  First your body ramps up cortisol to help you deal with the stress (which deposits a lovely layer of fat on your midsection).  Then it starts to wear down and relies on other hormones to help it out.  Finally, at stage 7, the adrenal glands are just depleted and begin to borrow too heavily from other gland systems and affect the body's ability to regulate itself...causing disease.

Adrenal Fatigue symptoms include:

Fatigue and weakness, especially in the morning and afternoon

A suppressed immune system

Increased allergies

Muscle and bone loss and muscular weakness

Depression

Cravings for foods high in salt, sugar or fat

Hormonal imbalance

Skin problems

Autoimmune disorders

Increased PMS or menopausal symptoms

Low sex drive

Lightheadedness when getting up from sitting or lying down

Decreased ability to handle stress

Trouble waking up in the morning, despite a full night’s sleep

Poor memory

I have 73% of those symptoms as well as increased belly fat, which is indicative of a cortisol issue.  It is also likely why I have developed insulin resistance, as once the adrenal glands can no longer produce enough cortisol, it starts using glucocorticoids to regulate the body functions that cortisol is supposed to take care of.  It then begins to throw off other hormonal balances (hence the Estrogen and Progesterone imbalance).  If left untreated, it will begin to go after other systems, particularly thyroid.

In order to correct the problem, I am taking a series of natural supplements to revive my adrenal glands and clear up some of the sex hormone imbalance.  It is a 3 month treatment.  If it doesn't work the way we need it to, there is a more invasive/expensive plan of action.  Fingers crossed that I respond to the supplements!  She said I'll be able to tell if the medicine is working by my energy level.

In addition I have been prescribed yoga and naps!!!  Yes, that's right!  My doctor said I need to add gentle exercise and I need to avoid strenuous exercise.  She also said that during these next few months it will be beneficial to take midday naps when I can.  They will help my adrenal glands heal.  That's the best prescription I've ever gotten!

Because I know that my personality is bent toward overstress, I know that I have to protect myself mentally as well.  I need to make sure that I am conscious of my stress levels and give myself permission to protect my schedule and my work load.   Life happens and I understand stress is a reality, especially in modern America, but I don't have to heap on the challenges just to prove myself.  It's going to be a big step for me to talk down my achiever tendencies in favor of my physical and mental health, but it's vital that I do it. 

With regard to diet, I need to continue doing what I am doing.  I plan to continue following the Type A diet as well as severely limiting caffeine and sugar (which both trigger an adrenal response)

FULL DISCLOSURE:   This is a diagnosis that is WIDELY accepted in natural medicine circles and really explains the presence of a lot of symptoms.  However, traditional medical community does not believe that "adrenal fatigue" is an actual disease.  They think it is a fairytale diagnosis from natural doctors to explain symptoms associated with modern life.  Here's what I want to say to that...BULL-S!@#

I consider myself and intelligent and informed woman.  I have firm grasp of biology.  This diagnosis is plausible for me.  My naturopath explained the biochemical process in detail.  It makes perfect chemical sense.  Especially since my cortisol was MARKEDLY low, it was easy for me to understand how it could be interpreted as adrenal fatigue.  I AM CLEARLY NOT MAKING ENOUGH CORTISOL!!

Anywho, I trust my naturopath and will try this round of supplements.  I will also endeavor to manage my stress levels (to the best of my ability).  Furthermore, I will... go take a nap...doctor's orders!! ;0)

Anticipation

In just a few days I go to the naturopathic doctor and receive the results of my blood/saliva tests.  Eagerness to know what she has discovered is mingled with fear about what she has found.  It could mean a whole new bevy of changes for me. 

Another possibility is that all of the tests can come back normal.  I didn't even really consider that possibility until my therapist mentioned it.  She asked, "what happens if the tests don't find anything?".  That took me aback.  It took me a few minutes to process before I could answer.  In the end I decided as long as we come up with some sort of plan to help me feel better, then I can be OK with whatever the tests say/don't say. 

On an interesting note, my youngest son just went to the doctor because he hasn't grown much since he was 18mo (he's 32 months now).  His pediatrician wants to run a lot of the same blood tests that I just had done...so it will be really interesting to compare what's going on with him to hat might potentially be going on with me. 

Until Wednesday, I have to fight against turning anticipation/curiosity into full blown anxiety.  It's a pretty busy week, so maybe the answer is distraction.  We'll see.  I let you know what I find out!

The Illusion Of Control

I don't remember who it was, but someone famous in Christian circles blogged about his anxiety last year.  He was recounting his first anxiety attack...how it felt...how frightening it was.  The story continued as he shared the many ways he treats his anxiety and how people reacted to his diagnosis.  He talked a lot about medication.  This was helpful for me at the time I was reading it because I was deciding whether or not to go back on meds.  One line in his post stuck with me and has had some influence on how I view my depression and anxiety...he called treatment "the illusion of control".  He said this because he was doing everything he was supposed to be doing (including taking medicine) and he would still have random panic attacks from time to time. I got smacked in the face with the "illusion of control" today. 

I've mentioned that I am following a diet and taking supplements as prescribed by my doctor.  (Zoloft is still in that mix.)  Generally, I've been feeling very, very good.  Welp, there were a couple of ways I neglected to treat my depression this week.  First of all, for two days this week, I was out of my routine and missed two doses of Zoloft and my supplements.  I also partook of caffeine, drank alcohol too many times this week (remember I have less of an issue with quantity as much as frequency of alcohol), and had more sugar than I should have.  Today...today is a rough day.  While I have been taking my medicine faithfully for two days, my missed doses (and all of the other unwise choices I've made) have finally caught up with me.

My level of irritability is very high and my tolerance for my children is VERY low.  All of the loneliness and worthlessness that I've kept at bay this summer has come flooding back.  Deep theological questions are wrestling around in my brain and making my heart hurt. I'm tired and listless and want nothing more than to go to bed and sleep through the weekend (and let my husband take care of the kids).

While there have been many stressors this week, they were rolling off of my back...until today.  The depression filter went up.  My poor husband asked if there was anything I needed to talk about...I had to tell him no.  There isn't really.  I just feel bad.  All of the things that were irritating and rage inducing today, just WEREN'T yesterday. 

It's days like today that I have to remember that I will likely never be "cured" from this illness.  I can do everything in my power to care for my body/mind/spirit...and minimize the damage... but I do not ultimately have control over my depression.  If I waver in my fight for health...it comes sneaking back in.  If I get blindsided by unpleasant circumstances...it's there to greet me.   Some days I might feel like I have my depression under control...but I don't...it's an illusion.

Report: The Two Month Mark

I'm na start this post off with a confession.  I have NOT been following my diet for two weeks.  Yup, I went off plan for two solid weeks.  The first week it was my anniversary, a girls trip I scheduled last December (before the diet came into play), and the celebration of my brother-in-law's birthday.  The second week we went on our Hay-cation.  While I brought about 30% of my own food, part of the farm stay is eating breakfast and lunch with the farm family.  I decided that I didn't want to be fussy about listing my restrictions for our hosts, so I just rolled with it and ate what they prepared.  Because I haven't been careful I have erased any weight loss that I previously attained (but there will be a post speaking to that topic coming soon)

But, there are always lessons to be learned even when we go off course.  In the last two months, I have learned a lot about my personality, food preparation, and how my body reacts when I go off plan.

Lessons From the Last Two Months

• Apparently, I'm not all that attached to red meat.  I've had beef maybe 4 times in the last month.  Not sad.  I've had pork once or twice and it KILLED my stomach.  Sticking with turkey and chicken hasn't been much of a challenge. 
• Cod is gross and I will never make it again.
• Sprouted grain bread is pretty good.
• There's still not a vegetable that I've met that I didn't like.  Vegetarian-ish living has been easier than I thought.   The tomatoes and peppers tend to be the hardest to work around with regard to vegetarian recipes.
• Amaranth flour tastes green and can only be used in certain recipes. If you are an intuitive chef, you'll get that.  Spelt it very versatile as it brown rice flour. 
• I HATE STEVIA.  It tastes terrible and upsets my tummy.
• Restrictive diets require a lot more time and energy to plan and prepare.  I spend WAY, WAY more time prepping for meals than I used to.   This has been both rewarding and challenging.  I feel more connected to my food.  Additionally, I have learned that if it's hard to make, I appreciate it more (and am thus less inclined to overeat it).  Conversely, I've also learned that we are a fairly busy family and if I am going to stay on track (and not spend a billion dollars eating out) I have to have some easy, throw together, go-tos.  Rice and quinoa are always stocked in my pantry.  Costco rotisserie chickens are my new best friend.  Lettuces, avocados, deli turkey, peanut butter, sprouted grain bread, goat cheese, and black beans are also staples.
• I cannot have sugar.  Once the candida diet was done, the restriction on sugar was lifted.  While I still have a fairly limited amount of sugar, having ANY form of sugar at all leads to consuming MORE sugar.   Trying to avoid refined sugar, I experimented with honey and maple syrup.  Pinterest helped me find some alternative no bake cookie and granola bar recipes.  They were great...and I shoveled those bad boys into my mouth like Garfield with a lasagna.  Not good, friends.  Also, we've had the ingredients for s'mores (from a party) in our pantry for the last few weeks...I had to eat it...I couldn't resist.  So, the take away lesson for this situation is...NO sugar...NO sugar in the house...at all...ever. 
• My family spends an inordinate amount of time eating communally.  We probably attend pot luck dinners AT LEAST once a week...especially in the summer time.   Now, I can do my best to bring food that I know is good for me.  But...I can't control it all, people!  I can't demand that people bow to my diet needs (and frankly don't wish to).  We've already covered that I am a very needy extrovert...so I'm also NOT going to stop attending all of these delightful dinners.  This presents me with a quandary.  What do I do?  So far I've just tried to make my best choices and then not care after that.  I don't want to ruin a perfectly good opportunity for social interaction by being all tangled up in keeping my diet perfect.  This is still something I need to figure out so that I don't constantly find myself putting unhealthy food into my body.
• My depression has been well managed.  My anxiety has seen a little bit of an uptick, but not severely.  It's still unknown if the diet/supplements are the cause or if it's just a "high" point for me since it's summer.  Summer is full of sunshine and socializing, two things that are like medicine for me. 

Moving forward here's what's going on.

• I plan to get back on track with the Blood Type Diet.  It feels good when I eat that way, so I have to stay with it...get back on the wagon, if you will.
• My doctor ran blood tests a few weeks ago.  I also did a saliva test to check for some hormone stuff and track it through a typical day.  Our next appointment is in two weeks.  We'll see what comes up at that one and determine where I need to go from here.
• During my last therapy session, I chatted with my therapist about meditation.  She gave me some good pointers.  My homework for the month was to work up from 5 seconds of quieting my mind to 5 minutes.  She explained that people often quit meditating because they get frustrated that they get stop the barrage of thoughts that hits you when you try to "get quiet".  Since we had a busy two weeks, I haven't done much work with it. 
• I have decided to make a little spot for yoga on our 3rd floor (that is currently used, primarily, as storage).  I love yoga with my heart.  It's quiet and peaceful and challenges my body without yelling at it.  To create the sensuous environment I associate with yoga, I have arranged to room to manipulate lighting, chosen calming fabrics, purchased good quality incense, and found some soothing Pandora stations to stream while I exercise.  This space will also serve as a dedicated place for meditation.

That's the plan kids.  As soon as I have more info on my blood and spit test results, I will share those with you.  Again, I have some suspicions about what we will find...but, only time will tell.  The next report will be at 3 months.