Depression Update

In a continuing examination of my mental illness, I periodically try to make sense of my experience. It's my goal to share with others who might be experiencing similar things in order to support and comfort them. I am not interested in drawing attention to myself, except as just one of a million stories of mental illness. 

In case you need to catch up, here's my life in brief: I have had severe depression since my teens, if not before. It manifested in rage and anger, so I seemed to many who dealt with me to be an arrogant, snotty, angry, rebellious teenager. Mostly I just hated myself. Back in the 70s, in a small midwestern town, getting mental health care was fraught with stigma, and I wouldn't have known to ask for it anyway. In the 80s, I got married and started working. I was a mess inside, but trying super hard to hold it together on the outside, not always successfully. In 1989 I had my first child. 

Motherhood is hard enough, but so much harder when you have a mental illness. I had no time to focus on myself and my needs. Two  more children came along. The thing that saved me during this time was breastfeeding. As odd as that may sound, the hormones released when you nurse a child are calming and create feelings of well-being. I am convinced that if I had not breastfed my kids, I would have probably gone to a mental hospital. I was not at my best during those years, but the hormones helped. 

However, that didn't last forever. I reverted to my tactics of presenting a good mask to the world, while inside I was dying. Rage and anger were frequent. 

Finally, I reached a breaking point. I was in a deep, dark hole that only got deeper and darker. I was never going to get out. My husband, who was one of the few people who knew the true me and who never wavered in his support, suggested I seek out help and medication. (Until this point, I had a strong bias against the medical world, and a very strong bias against meds.) I started antidepressants and therapy. It was a rocky road, but it helped. 

That was about 15 years ago. Since then, I have been on meds continuously, went through years of therapy with a very kind and wonderful counselsor. I have an excellent psych nurse who has monitored me and guided me through this medical maze. If you are so inclined, you can read about those years in other posts on this blog. 

So here I am now. My psych nurse last year informed me that I am her most stable patient and she only needed to see me every six months. At one appointment she brought up the idea of potentially weaning off meds to see how I would do. I immediately squelched that idea. The mere thought returning to my darkness scared the shit out of me. 

Since then, I have taken a good hard look at where I am. In these 15 years, I have learned a lot about self care. I have learned where my limitations are and when I need to step off the runaway train of modern life to take a breath. I have supplemented with nutrients that help support my mental health and observed how much I need constant outdoor exposure to be well. In short, I have been able to put my own needs first. This is a hard thing. 

I realized recently that I have made friends with my depression. Sounds weird, but it's true. Depression has given me a lot of personal insight and growth. It's helped me have compassion for others, to have compassion for myself. It's strengthened me like nothing else. I have had to learn to accept things about myself. It's connected me with others. And, although I'm still working on this, depression has taught me how to strip off the mask and be authentic with everyone, especially myself. 

So I am ready for this step I'm now taking. With my psych nurse's blessing, I am weaning off my meds. It's scary to say. It's only been a few days. I don't know what lies ahead. It may not work for me. I have often said during these 15 years that if I have to take meds forever, I will. And I stand by that. However, in taking care of myself, I have a sense that now is the time for me to work with my mental illness in a different way, a way of not being in crisis, but in cohesion. I have no doubt that there will be ups and downs. I am stronger now and I hope I will be able to weather the downs. I have better support now, and the stigma in society is less than it was 40 years ago. 

I am not suggesting that anyone else should try this. I can't speak for others. And if you want to try, make sure to do it with medical supervision. I am not going cold turkey. I am going extremely slowly, so it may take more than a year before I am off entirely. (I was on such a high dose that I can cut by tens or twenties of milligrams and still be on a super high dose, so it will take time.) 

Why, you might ask, would someone do this when they are finally stable and in a really good place? My mental illness is stable, but my physical health is facing some risks that I believe might be exacerbated by my long-term, high dose of antidepressants. I feel like I am in a place now where taking care of my physical health needs to balance with my mental health. And I am ready to try to do that. I have spent nearly my whole life dealing with my mental state--either trying to hide it, live through it, or treat it--that my physical wellness has taken a back seat. That's not good for me any more than living with an untreated mental illness. So, before I get to some sort of physical crisis, I am going to see if I can find a balance to my physical and mental health so that I can live into old age with good health. 

I will continue to share my story, if only to honestly portray what one person's experience is like, if it helps someone else. 

Candida and Me

Okay, so candida. Kind of an icky topic. I won't go into a lot of depth here, because you can google it. Basically, it's an overgrowth of the natural yeast that we all have in our guts. Supposedly, I have it. I didn't make this up--it was tested by my doctor and a lab, via. . . how to put this delicately: that stuff that comes out of your gut, your poop.

That's quite enough of that. What I really wanted to write about was the ensuing month of special diet I have had to consume, along with a smorgasbord of supplements, to try to heal my gut. I'm 3/4 of the way done with my four weeks of treatment. I can't wait for it to be over. But I have learned a few things about myself through the process.

Let me just say that I was given the option to approach this now or later. The wonderful staff at my new doctor's office are well aware that this is a difficult regimen to undergo, and they said I should only do it if I could stick to it. So I decided to go ahead, and I decided to pursue it with conviction and concentration. (I have actually been treated for this in the past by other practitioners, but I didn't approach it with the degree of effort I have this time. And I have much more support and information from my practitioner this time.)

Sometimes, I find it useful to prove to myself I can do something hard. A couple of years ago, it was backpacking in Yosemite. Birthing a 10 lb 10 oz baby was enough of a challenge nearly 18 years ago that I didn't need to prove anything for a very long time. This seemed like a good opportunity to prove to myself that I could focus on food as merely food and not entertainment. That I could live without my favorite vices.

The regimen I have been following is kind of scary. I am not allowed to eat any of the following: dairy, sugar or other sweeteners except for stevia, alcohol, grains of any kind, starchy vegetables, anything fermented or made with vinegar, or fruit except an occasional few berries in a protein smoothie. If you know me, you know that I love dairy AND bread AND fruit. So I knew this would be an extreme challenge. Basically, I can eat meat, beans, eggs, non-starchy vegetables (of course, all my favorite vegetables are of the starchy variety), nuts and seeds, and healthy fats.

Being the rebel and the self-directed person I am, I did a little of my own research and discovered that there are many variations in what is considered allowable on the candida diet. For example, raw honey is allowed by some. And as I have developed a distinct hatred for stevia, I decided a teeny bit of raw honey would be okay. I also have developed a gag reflex when drinking a protein smoothie, so I decided berries were acceptable if eaten with other types of protein, like meat.

My doctor had already okayed one cup of coffee per day, but no sugar. I started by using stevia, but I really don't like its flavor, and I had already been reducing my intake of sugar, so I now drink my coffee with no sweetener. Just cream. (I was allowed that tiny bit of dairy in my coffee, since they viewed that as better than opting for fake creamers.) So one thing I learned is that coffee really is not bad without sweetener. Who knew?

Here are a few other things I've learned:

Attitude is everything. I'm 51, and I should know this by now. But I kind of need a kick in the pants every once in a while. I went into this process with a positive attitude that it would be a chance to explore new foods, try out some other options I'd been wanting to try out anyway, and see if it really was possible to live without anything made out of wheat or any other grain (including oats) for a month--I thought missing grains would be the hardest part. The attitude has helped immensely. Duh. Hey, I gave up alcohol for three pregnancies. I gave up cheese while nursing Peter because it seemed to make him miserable. I can do almost anything for just one month.

Not to sound all new-agy and stuff, I have become more mindful about eating. Of course, that was sort of a by-product. I've had to think about literally every single thing. Mustard and ketchup? No, those have vinegar. What to have for breakfast when almost all of my prior breakfast choices have been grain-based? Eggs. Love eggs. Have not yet grown to despise eggs. But every morning? Today I drank the dang protein smoothie just for a change of pace. But I've discovered the wonders of almond flour and coconut flour and how you can make edible pancakes and muffins and even substitute hamburger buns out of them. On this diet, it is impossible to step into the kitchen and grab a snack without thinking, so yeah, mindfulness. Maybe more mindfulness than I would like. How delightful it will be to go grab some fruit for a snack without having to come up with something involving meat or veggies (not that I have anything against those food groups in particular).

Tastes I really, really like. I have become a big fan of the multiple uses of lemon juice. (I can have that where vinegar might be the norm, say in salad dressing and stuff.) I love lemon flavor. And it can be used in almost any kind of dish to add zing. Also avocados.  I've always loved the smooth and creamy texture of avocados. This month, I have been putting avocados on and in everything. Guacamole is my new love. I loved it before, but now I'm planning on eating is as often as possible. Coconut everything: flour, oil, butter, milk.

Perfection is impossible. Already knew this, but a nice reminder is useful. There have been one two occasions where I did use mustard or fruit or something more than I was supposed to. I have been allowed to have a very small amount of extremely dark chocolate, which I may have eaten slightly more than the allotted amount. But hey, I'm a writer, and writers can't write without chocolate.

On the other hand, I am made of stronger stuff than I anticipated. I never, ever thought I could survive without some sort of grains. I could go without wheat, if that's all it was. But rice? Oats? Yes, I can live without those as well. It's been a nice surprise that I am able to do this thing that I thought would be next to impossible. I have walked past tables of sugary treats without blinking, or even feeling tempted. I have eaten out with my family and not even cared that they were eating my favorite things, while I was stuck with more chicken and green salad. (Okay, I might have cared a bit. I have done my fair share of whining and complaining.)

It hasn't been all joy and wonder. Not at all. It has been a pain in the butt, to be honest. For starters, I'm not the kind of person who likes a regimented lifestyle. I was told I had to eat three meals and two snacks and they had to be 2-3 hours apart and at certain prescribed times. That has not happened. I knew it wouldn't. I eat when I'm hungry, and I'm still asleep at 7:00 a.m. so I'm not going to be eating breakfast between 7-9. I figured that was optional. I have tried to make sure I have some food every few hours, and I call that good.

And while I really do love a wide array of vegetables, not being able to eat fruit is practically killing me, especially at this time of the year, when all the fruit is ready to eat. That's why I've always been glad that the food pyramid or plate or whatever has combined fruits and vegetables into one category. Thank goodness I am allowed a few measly berries a day. I think fruit might be the first thing I eat when I'm done.

I really haven't missed dairy all that much, as I typically don't consume tons of dairy products anyway. But I was just falling in love with raw milk, so I will be glad to have that back. And cheese--like on sandwiches and pizza, and with bread and wine.

I don't really miss sugar that much, but I was already cutting way back on that and using low glycemic choices for sweeteners. So that will be something I can carry forward. I'm sure I will eat sugar--I must have some ice cream soon--but I think I can pick only the truly special treats that really mean something and leave most of the rest of the sugary stuff in the past.

I hope this kills the candida. Because if not, I might have to do it again, and I would not enjoy that at all. However, I wasn't having many of the symptoms of candida to begin with, and I don't feel any better or worse after the first 3 weeks. I have had some headaches and been very tired, but isn't different than before. I don't feel less brain foggy. I don't have more energy. My digestion doesn't seem any different. So aside from being grouchy whenever I pass Fanci Freez, I don't really feel different at all.

Therefore, when my month is up--coincidentally on the exact date of my 30th wedding anniversary--I will not feel at all guilty about enjoying myself with some wine, cheese and bread, and strawberries with whipped cream. No meat or vegetables in sight. I have proven to myself that I could do it, and it has definitely been interesting. But it's not the way I want eating to be for the long term. So if at the end of this the doctor tells me I can never eat grains again, I might be okay. But is she tells me no fruit, there might some extreme negotiations to work out. And lots of screaming.

My two most important take-aways are things I was trying to work on anyway: eliminating or significantly reducing my sugar intake and eating less or no processed food. I have done both of those things, and I think they are definitely habits I can continue.

It's been a journey, with some illuminating new insights. But  mostly I can't wait to be done.

How a Rational, Educated, non-celebrity Chose Not to Vaccinate

There’s been a lot of vitriol aimed at the “anti-vaxxers” lately, blaming non-vaccinators for recent outbreaks of measles, whooping cough, and whatever else rears its head. Some people have written posts calling parents who choose not to vaccinate “ignorant” and “selfish.”

Well, I am here to defend these parents, and I am not afraid to state right up front that I am one. It’s been nearly 25 years since I made this decision for my babies, but I think time gives me a substantial level of objectivity, since I’m no longer personally insulted by the hatred, nor am I afraid that people will think I’m some sort of bad mother—my children have all turned out to be very healthy, intelligent, and worthy human beings who have yet to spread anything worse than a cold.

I realize that people don’t like their long-held beliefs challenged, and this certainly applies to vaccinations. It is far easier to simply yell louder that vaccines are essential than it is to actually do the research. But look at all the ways the medical community has changed its mind about tests and treatments it once considered perfectly safe. Overuse of antiobiotics led to the rise of super bacteria that are resistant to the available antibiotics. Another example: for decades now, they’ve been telling women they must have mammograms. Now, science is starting to realize that this strategy has resulted in many women being treated unnecessarily, as well as other women feeling reassured when fast-growing cancers that would kill them in a few months were not detected by a mammogram.

I did not make the choice not to vaccinate my children lightly, by any means. I did not simply decry it as a government conspiracy or a medical waste of time. I initially thought like a lot of you, that vaccines were the way to go, so I wasn’t on board right away. A couple of acquaintances suggested I check out the information on both sides of the issue—a strategy that has served me well throughout parenthood.

So I researched. I read dozens of books. I looked at questions that had been asked about vaccines that the medical community did not have answers to. If I had found satisfactory answers to my questions, I might have chosen to vaccinate. But I did not. The research on long-term side effects of vaccines just did not exist. The research on short-term effects was not very convincing, either.

I probably read more about vaccines—both pro and con—than the average pediatrician/MD. I know that the medical practitioner is often influenced by several factors, such as the pharma reps who visit their offices regularly, not to mention the reluctance to buck the system. I read books by several physicians who had bucked the system, and they were basically shunned by the medical community, even though they had been previously well-respected.

At this point, if you’re reading this, I urge you to read extensively on both sides of the issue, and please avoid rash judgments on the intelligence and parental responsibility of the person who chooses not to vaccinate. If you want to have a respectful discussion of the actual science (or non-science, as the case may be), I welcome that, but unless you have read extensively on both sides of the issue, it can’t be a true discussion.

I made the decision not to vaccinate because the evidence in favor of it did not seem complete enough to me. One common reason given to me in favor of vaccines was the obvious “fact” that many diseases had been eradicated because of immunizations. Nothing proves this, however. In most of Europe, there was never a mandated immunization program as there was in the U.S., and they experienced the same decline in diseases at the same time. What I learned was that the incidence of most contagious diseases ebbs and flows. So, simply the correlation of mass immunizations in the U.S. and the decrease in diseases does not prove causality. I could just as easily correlate vaccinations with increases in childhood obesity, auto immune diseases, cancers, ADHD, depression, etc. (I believe this type of correlation is what makes some people claim that immunizations cause autism. I don’t buy that. I know non-vaccinated children with autism.) If vaccines truly worked the way we are told they do, then no one would feel threatened by my unvaccinated family, because supposedly you are immune to the disease and therefore cannot get it. In addition, if the disease can be carried by people who aren’t immune, then it can be carried by both the unvaccinated and the vaccinated, since obviously there are some who have been vaccinated who are not fully immune.

In addition, I learned that there are numerous ways to increase the strength and effectiveness of an immune system. An MD won’t tell you about these, because big pharma doesn’t knock on their doors once a week promoting it. (I realize my bias is showing.) Many of these methods are hundreds of years old and easily achieved.

The first and easiest way to promote a baby’s immune system is by breastfeeding. I will not go into much depth here, because there is a ton of information to back this up. In fact, the evidence supporting a myriad of breastfeeding’s benefits is overwhelming. Even the medical community (which, incidentally, was not always so pro-breastfeeding) now recommends breastfeeding as the best form of infant nutrition. Among all the many benefits is the mother’s antibodies are passed to the baby through her milk, which is the perfect way to help the baby fight diseases specific to the environment where the mother lives.

Giving mass doses of vaccines at the vulnerable age of infancy can put more stress on the immature immune system. Which is why some parents take a middle road approach of delaying vaccines until the baby is older, and then spacing out the vaccines instead of administering them all at once. There is some reason to believe this might be a good compromise. This way, if there is a reaction, it is clear which vaccine was at fault. People often cite the bad side effects of the diseases in question. I have seen first-hand equally devastating effects after vaccines.

But most of the information I read indicated it was best to avoid all vaccines until children were much older.

Some other ways to promote the health of the immune system are things you read about a lot these days. Herbs and vitamins are useful. Less processed food, low sugar intake, and the like help. Good gut bacteria (which is supported by breastfeeding).

Also low intake of antibiotics. My children rarely received antibiotics. And they really didn’t need to—because they had really strong immune systems that had been allowed to develop at a natural pace through breastfeeding, healthy food, and by fighting off diseases with a supported immune system. Interestingly, it was once considered a no-brainer to just pump kids with antibiotics “just in case,” and we now realize that this causes resistance to antibiotics as the formation of super-bacteria. What will a couple of decades teach us about the long-term problems with vaccines?

Let me address just a couple of diseases specifically. Let’s talk whooping cough, as this is one of the illnesses that always gets the pro-vaxxers up in arms. The fact of the matter is that whooping cough vaccine is one of the least effective vaccines given to kids, so the fact that lots of incidents crop up should come as no surprise, and should not be blamed on the kids who aren’t vaccinated.

Right now, it seems measles is a big issue in New York City and more recently in LA. According to what I’ve seen in news reports, many of those who are getting sick have been vaccinated. Again, if the vaccine worked, they wouldn’t be getting sick.

I am not entirely against vaccines. When people are older and the vaccine serves a specific need, then I see some good reasons to administer them. Foreign travel, for example. Our bodies are not used to the viruses, bacteria, and illnesses of unfamiliar parts of the world, so an older teen or adult being vaccinated prior to travel seems prudent. Exposure is perhaps another reason. If you work in a hospital, which is rampant with all kinds of nasty stuff, it might be wise to be vaccinated. But this is when our immune systems are much more developed and able to handle a big influx of vaccines.

For some people, the risks of living are scary, and that includes the risk of childhood diseases. A generation ago, before vaccinations were the norm, these same childhood diseases were the norm, and nobody thought twice about the possibility of getting measles, for example. In fact, you were the strange one if you hadn’t had the disease. A couple of things I learned through my research were that these illnesses are normal childhood illnesses that are less dangerous in young children than they are in older children or adults. I can attest to this from personal experience. I never had chicken pox as a child, so I got it at age 30 when my children had it. I was extremely sick, dangerously so. My children were hardly even uncomfortable. The other thing to note is that having a disease like measles confers lifelong immunity, a much better risk avoidance technique than an unsure roll of the dice with vaccines. Because people frequently forget to have boosters, there are more incidents of these illnesses in young adults, which can have even worse side effects than having the illness as a kid.

I do not judge those who choose to vaccinate. There are reasons in favor of it, and I know that every parent makes the best choices we can at any given time. But as I said before, I have read more on both sides of the issue than probably most parents, doctors, and the general populace. I made my decision based on information and rational thought. So please refrain from calling me ignorant or selfish. I made the best choice for my children—not selfish, just what any parent would do. 

How Did I Get Here?

Disclaimer: this post contains boring analysis of my health conditions and what they mean to me. And the journey I've been on. May not be interesting to anybody. Read at your own risk.

It's hard to know where to start. I think I'll start with the turning point that occurred about 13 or 14 years ago. Most of my life before that did not involve the intensity of health problems that came after. (I did have an abundance of health issues before that, which I'm sure all contributed to the turning point, but I can't recount my entire life story here.)

So in the winter of that year (around 2000 or maybe it was 1999--possibly even earlier or later), I had a very bad case of the flu. Probably the worst flu I've ever had. I remember it well. I was flat on my back for about 12 days. I lost about 20 pounds because I didn't really eat or drink anything. I became dehydrated like I never have before. I was really sick. It took a few weeks to feel normal again.

By that time, I developed what seemed to be a bladder infection, but turned out to be a kidney stone (probably induced by being severely dehydrated), although we didn't get that diagnosis for a couple of months. The stone was lodged in my ureter and was not moving and being passed. It took several different diagnostic tests of varying levels of humiliation before the urologist finally found where the bloody little thing was. Then I got to have a  procedure called lithotripsy, in which you are put under and sound waves are aimed at the blockage to break it into pieces so it will move. After that, you still get to pass the stone like usual. So I got to be sick with the stupid thing for three months, and as a bonus, I still got to pass the stone in the end. So fun.

To sum up--basically sick and miserable for about four months. This led to several things, some of which I didn't understand or realize for a very long time. The most outward and obvious one was that I sank further into the chronic depressive state that required medication. I'd been teetering on the edge of that cliff for decades, managing to function, but not necessarily well. (That's an entire book of analysis all on its own. It took at least a year to get stable.) Also, my body physically responded to this extended period of illness by interpreting it as an emergency of top priority, leading to my adrenals and thyroid becoming drained and failing to do their job, try as they might. You've probably heard of adrenal exhaustion. That.

Thus began an ordeal of doctor visits to see what could be done. Because I am more of an alternative medicine kind of gal, that's the route I took. I saw a homeopathic doctor for a while. She tried several remedies that didn't seem to be doing the trick. In hindsight, I realize two things. First, I didn't take my conditions seriously enough, resulting in not taking the remedies as thoroughly as possible. Second, I and the doc were too impatient for results to appear, so we moved on probably too soon to other options.

Frustrated with no progress there, I found an osteopath who treated thyroid condition known as Wilson's Thyroid Syndrome. This is a fun time that involves taking your temp three times a day at precise times and eating at precise times. If you know me, you know precise timing is not my thing. I struggled to adhere to the treatment, but it was causing more stress that probably taxed my poor adrenals even further. I ended up taking thyroid meds. I am not sure they ever really did me any good. Maybe they did. I can't tell. I took them for years.

For years, I underwent blood analysis and a barrage of supplements and yeast cleanses and foot detoxing and bioidentical hormone therapy.

On top of all that, the illnesses, shutdown of my adrenals, and antidepressants caused me to gain about 100 pounds. Which didn't do much for my personal self-esteem and well-being. Even when I weighed 110 pounds in college, I thought I was fat. So this wasn't helping my body image at all.

Then they decided to treat my cholesterol, which is extremely high. I took statins for years, which did help the cholesterol, but then I read that they had some causal links to diabetes, which puts you at higher risk for heart disease, which is the whole reason to reduce your cholesterol in the first place. I don't take those meds anymore.

One doc decided I needed more D3. On and on. I tried everything they made me do. I even tried to lose the weight. I managed to lose about 30 pounds, then plateaued and never got any further with that endeavor. (Later, through some intense reading, I learned that people with adrenal exhaustion create more exhaustion when trying to lose weight, because the body interprets the weight loss as a crisis and jumps in to stop it. Thus making it nearly impossible to lose weight.)

Which brings me approximately to 2013. The antidepressants I had been taking for about ten years and which had kept me stable and functional that whole time began to "poop out," as they say in the psychiatric world. At the same time, I began consulting with my chiropractor on some of these issues--like cholesterol, blood sugar, adrenal fatigue, thyroid, and digestive absorption. I started reading a whole bunch of books and articles about the lies of the medical "research" over the past several decades and the wrongness of much of the advice that is commonly  handed out by doctors.

Let me preface what I am about to say with another disclaimer. I have always been on the "other" side of much of what the medical establishment touts as the best thing. I never vaccinated my children because I did a lot of reading about vaccines--from all points of view--and decided they couldn't answer all my questions satisfactorily. I had two babies at home, despite the common looks of horror that many people gave me, thinking I was putting myself and the babies in grave danger. I don't do antibiotics and never allowed them to be given to my children. You get the picture. So I, more than the average person, am already halfway there when someone tells me the medical establishment has been lying to me. (As with cholesterol lowering meds, for example.)

Throughout this intense period of reading, which I continue to do a lot still, I made some discoveries that have impacted the way I look at my health and how I should approach it. I'm not saying these strategies are the ones everyone should use, but they are where I have come down on certain thoughts about health. I'm going to list them in no particular order.

1. I have realized that you can consume all the supplements you want, but if they're not being absorbed because you have digestive concerns, then they're doing you no good.

2. Healing the digestive system is a long process requiring a lot of patience.

3. Cholesterol is not the enemy. We need it for our bodies and brains to function. Focusing too much on that number is not that useful.

4. Saturated fat is not the enemy. Hydrogenated and trans fats--abundant in processed foods--are the enemy.

5. Carbs are not the enemy. Refined sugar and processed foods are.

6. Adrenal exhaustion requires a unique approach that most practitioners really don't understand. It involves sleeping a lot, eating really really good foods, and not over-exercising (which the body interprets as a stressor and thus creates more exhaustion).

7. My own personal timetable is very slow. I think of it as glacial. One healer said it's like a mountain. In other words, I may be at this for a very long time before I am at the state of wellness I'd like to achieve.

There are many other insights and details of how I look at things at this point. But my story in ongoing. Last summer I began experiencing frequent headaches of random duration. Headaches that worried me quite a bit. At first I thought it was from my new antidepressants. Then I thought it might be from eye strain. Or not getting enough water. Or too much sugar. After months of keeping a headache journal along with a food diary and an assessment of possible triggers, I still have no concrete answers as to what is causing these headaches or what I can do to prevent them. I am beginning to think they are caused by the random and strange fluctuations of hormones as I go through menopause.

Here's what I HAVE learned, though. The headaches came so that I would pay attention. So that I would search out the best health I can. And that has been a useful journey, which I continue on and will for the rest of my life. It starts with me, with paying attention to my body, its responses, and its intuitive knowing.

Now, I am sure that if any of my friends and family read this, you will undoubtedly want to share with me the miracles you have found for yourselves. Whether it's eating raw food, gluten free, paleo, vegetarian, or whatever. Please don't. I'm aware of the benefits of all those strategies, and I am actually following many of them in my own stew of strategies.

Where I have come down at this point is that I should be eating high quality foods, unprocessed foods, lots of water, plenty of good fats like butter/meat/coconut oil/etc, plenty of high quality protein, and as little sugar as I can. And I know that because change comes to me at a glacial pace, I can't be in a hurry. Therefore, I am tending to avoid looking at numbers like weight, cholesterol levels, and such. I will look at those numbers some, when it seems right. But I am looking inward more for the understanding I need. I am reading a ton of information, so if you have a good source and want to share it, feel free. Mostly I have learned that one thing that might be healthy for one person might not be healthy for me. I have learned that my weight has been a physical response to perceived crises, and that it may never go back to normal. Or after glacial years of taking the best possible care, my body might decide it is safe to let go of the weight. I can't afford to focus on the number right now.

It's a journey I've been on for all my life. I am realizing now that each step has taught me something of value. It's very hard to focus on how to get well when there are so many systems that are in need of healing: the digestion, the adrenals, the thyroid, the liver, the brain, the blood, etc. I find myself at this point open to what I can learn and do in order to restore and renew what I am able to. So, no specific answers and lots of questions, but an openness to seeing things differently. Not a bad place to be.

The Story of My Depression

I was going to write some sappy piece about Mother's Day, but you know what? I want to write about depression. Now, hold on, don't get me wrong. I don't associate Mother's Day with depression. Motherhood does not equal depression. But I have been feeling this tug lately to share what depression has been like for me, mostly because I think a lot of people don't really understand it as a disease and don't really accept it as a disease. The only connection it has with being a mother, for me, is that I wish I had gotten help sooner, because I would have been a better mother in my children's early years. I think I did pretty well anyway, mostly because I gave every single ounce of myself to the job, and because I am a supremely strong human being who was able, miraculously, to do what I needed to do for my children despite my disease.

Let me start by saying that I have had depression for about as long as I can remember. It wasn't too severe until I became an adult. I guess everyone assumes teenagers are going to be full of angst anyway, so maybe it wasn't really apparent then. I don't know. Even so, I was able to function okay. I suffered severe migraines for many years, and sometimes I wonder if they weren't partly from hanging on so tightly and trying to be so strong.  Who knows? As a young adult, I knew I felt horrible, and I wanted to seek counseling, but it seemed like an expense we couldn't afford. So I just kept  hanging in there.

When my children were very young, I honestly believe breastfeeding kept me going. You may not realize this, but breastfeeding releases hormones, the same feel good hormones that are released during orgasm. Not to get too graphic here, but these hormones are relaxing and very helpful when you have depression. So it was probably a good thing I made the choice to breastfeed. Even so, the depression was there all the time. It manifested mostly as anger. And I was angry a lot. I threw things. I yelled and screamed. It was as if I knew I couldn't just collapse and fall into the dark abyss of my soul, so I got mad about it instead. At least I functioned, that was my thinking. A lot of people I love had to bear witness to this anger. My husband and children, my parents. I know I did things that hurt them all. I hope they all see that it was the disease and not me. Or that they at least forgive me.

I LOVED being a mom. Still love being a mom. But as we all know, it's incredibly difficult in the best of times. It's really hard when you suffer from a debilitating disease. I'm sure I messed up a lot with my children, but I also feel really fortunate that they are pretty okay. Not perfect, but better than I was at their ages. And I think my depression helped me understand things that helped me be a better mother. I think it helped me see what my children needed in a very deep way.

I am a really, really strong person. That also helped keep me going. I knew how strong I was, particularly after delivering the very large baby that is Peter. He was 10 lb., 10 oz at birth, and I felt incredibly empowered to have delivered him at home with no drugs. I think that kept me going for a while, too.

Eventually, though, I used up all my energy, all my stores of strength, all my resources by being so strong. And then I wasn't strong at all. I fell apart. I sensed myself drowning, madly trying to tread water but barely staying afloat.I got physically very sick, unable to really get well. I felt like I was at the bottom of the darkest hole, alone, unable to climb out. I couldn't, wouldn't, think about suicide, because I couldn't do that to my children. But I didn't know how much longer I could hang on.

That's when my husband saved me. He reached in, pulled me out of the hole, and sent me to counseling. My counselor helped me decide to try anti-depressants, and I turned to my doctor, who prescribed something. It seemed to help a little, but not too much. She upped the dosage, which made me really sick.

My counselor helped me find a psychiatrist who specializes in depression and anti-depressant meds. They helped me find the right meds and dose for me. It took a while, but I started to feel like a human being.

The only problem was that once I got the depression under control I discovered that I had pretty much depleted my physical body of all its strength in order to fight through each day. I had depleted my thyroid, my adrenals, my iron stores. I am still working on repairing those aspects of my health. But the depression is under control.

I cannot emphasize enough how important it was for me to find a medication that helped me without harming me, and I did.

Here's the thing. I don't think most people really understand depression. Especially since our culture seems to prescribe anti-depressants for all kinds of things. Some people don't need meds for a long while. Some just need them to "get over a hump." How I wish I was one of those people. I don't like taking drugs, which is probably why it took me so long to get to the point where I had no choice. In fact, with my psychiatrist's help, I have attempted to barely even lower my dose several times. It doesn't work. Even a tiny reduction sends me falling down the black hole again.

So I had to accept that this is my life. I have depression. I always will. It is not a personal failing. It is not because I'm weak that I have to take these meds. I KNOW I am stronger than most people. I made it through 20 years of depression without help. How I did that, I still have no real idea, but I know it was because I was strong.

I don't talk about my depression very often, because I feel a bit ostracized. I think our society views it as weak. It's also immensely personal. It's hard to bare that to other people. But I am doing so now because I want people to understand it better. To know how it feels to live in this skin.

I think what prompted this whole opening up was a friend's question about why I have to see the psychiatrist every four months. I told her that they want to make sure I'm still doing okay with this med at this dose. And that some people struggle for years to find the right med. And that some people have bad experiences with meds, like feeling they want to commit suicide. She's a nurse, and this was news to her. So if she didn't know, then probably most people don't know.

You see those ads on TV that say "depression hurts" and all those things. Yes it does. It does hurt physically. It also hurts deep down in your innermost being. I am not a sad person. Depression isn't about being sad. It's not an emotional thing. It a brain chemical thing. It's physical. I am a happy, generous, active person, but depression made me feel like a wreck, a failure, a monster. That wasn't me. The meds simply (actually it's quite complicated) override that brain chemistry and allow me to be the true me.

So I guess the whole point of my writing this is to tell everyone who feels those things that there is help for you. You are not weak to need help. Do we tell a person with diabetes that they are weak for needing insulin? Of course not. You can live a great life if you want to. Depression does not have to drown you. Find someone in your life who will reach in and pull you out and help you find the treatment you need. It's hard, I know. It's embarrassing to admit that you are no longer strong enough to manage. That you have used up yourself. Like being eaten alive from the inside. Hang on. Ask for help. It is out there. And if you don't get the right meds on the first try, don't give up. Go to an expert. Not a family doctor. (Nothing against family doctors, mind you.)

If anything, depression has made me stronger than I was before. It has made me a better mother, because it gives me insight to see things in my children that might not appear on the surface. It gives me a heart of compassion for all beings who suffer. It makes me full of gratitude for my husband who loved me enough to hang in there with me. It makes me see more truly what is important. So that's the sappy part.

And Happy Mother's Day.

Random Thoughts

My daughters don't seem in the posting mood lately, but I will keep going. Here are some random things based on my current state of mind. It is currently 11:40 p.m., so please keep that in mind.

For starters, my son Peter decided this week NOT to play baseball this spring. He has been playing baseball since he was 6 years old, so this is weird. He's always loved baseball. To the point where he did not play sports at school because baseball was 'his sport.' So I have mixed feelings on this. I'm glad for him that he understands what he wants to do. He wants more time to focus on Boy Scouts and chess and jazz band. On the other hand, I actually really like to watch baseball. On the other hand, I don't like sitting out in freezing April rain huddled up in blankets and sleeping bags for three hours to watch his games. But I will miss watching him play ball. He is thinking about being an umpire, so he'll still get to be involved. I think there comes a time in each kid's life where they realize what things they're good at and not so good at, and they tend to go with what they're good at. Sigh. But I think there's a plot idea there.

Wouldn't it be refreshing if politicians could see themselves as they really are? I mean, from where I sit, most of Washington D.C. is focused on self-preservation and winning the next election. It's crazy. They get virtually nothing done, they talk and talk and talk, but they don't actually seem to be working for the common good. They don't seem to care that there are real people out here suffering, trying to make ends meet, choking on life. Stupid politicians. Can we have a new revolution?

And the Idaho legislature is no better. The governor is cutting everything left and right in order to avoid raising taxes, because God forbid we actually ask the people to pay for programs. Geez. So let's cut education budgets, eliminate agencies for the most vulnerable folks, and hope the people are willing to pay out of pocket for the stuff the state won't. Oh, and the legislators think they will be here until May, and even then might not get everything done. Yikes. We have to pay for that. I have an idea. Let's make them pay out of pocket for their own presence in Boise, and then we can use the money the state saves to bolster up the budget. Take that stupid fools.

I think one reason our family stays mostly pretty healthy throughout the year is the vast quantities of garlic we use. Even just breathing the fumes probably helps. Almost every day the smell of garlic in oil starts out the dinner preparations. I can't prove it, and probably as soon as I post this, we'll all come down with something horrible. But I think the garlic does help.

I wrote a new opening to my latest WIP tonight, and the thrill of being in the revision phase is so nice. Maybe now we can really get somewhere with that.

Spend Valentine's Day with your loved one(s) helping the earthquake victims in Haiti by attending a concert at Cathedral of the Rockies at 2:00 p.m. Every dollar collected at the concert will go directly to Haiti relief. I'll be performing on flute. So come and enjoy.

Okay, I've just emptied my brain. So there you go. The random thoughts of an average American mom and author. Late at night. Listening to Broadway show tunes on Sirius radio.

Weight Watchers

I have spent the last 13 years coming to terms with being a "large" woman. I don't mind saying "fat," but other people seem to have a problem with that word. But it is what it is. After I had my lovely son, Peter, I felt so strong and capable (he weighed 10 lbs, 10 oz. at birth!--that is NOT a typo)that I wanted to keep feeling that way. I didn't want to put myself down for my size. I wanted to just love myself the way I was.

That's all nice and well, but then I got really sick and my health took a nose dive for several years. I was diagnosed with kidney stones, adrenal fatigue, clinical depression, hypothyroidism, and toxic heavy metals overload. I have spent years alternately working on and ignoring these conditions. All the while, my weight has crept higher and higher.

Recently, lab results on some tests were alarming. I showed signs of what they call pre-diabetes. I am severely anemic--gee no wonder I'm tired all the time. And my own observations include things like plantar fasciatis and back problems. In short, I'm a mess.

So I decided to start by getting more active. I challenged David to see which of us could/would exercise the most. (He could stand to drop a few pounds.) I have walked, done yoga, and used lots of garden work and housework to bolster my activity level.

Then a couple of months ago, I noticed an announcement in the church bulletin that they are having Weight Watchers meetings at church. I have been on Weight Watchers twice before, maybe even three times. It is the only program that has worked for me in terms of long-term, sustainable weight loss. Seeing this notice put a bug in my ear, and I finally decided there is no time like the present and it couldn't get any more convenient for me (unless they would hold the meeting at my house), so I went to my first meeting last week.

This is a huge step for me. And a scary one. While I want to acknowledge my own strengths and perseverance, I also have to admit that I bear the responsibility for this body. I want to feel good about myself, and to do that, I want to be a healthy weight where I won't have chronic health problems and have to ask for seat belt extenders on airplanes. I am pleased so far that it is not so hard to remember some of the habits and rules. I am wondering how Thanksgiving will go, but don't we all?

There is a long road ahead of me. I have to lose a LOT of weight to reach what was once my "goal" weight in WW. I may decide I don't have to get that far. I may decide a lesser goal is better. I don't know. Because I have so far to go, it will be a long, long while before I even get within 50 pounds of my weight goal. All I know is, like everything else in life, this will be a journey and one that I will take day by day.

I don't want to harp on WW in particular, but I like the way their plan has modified since I last attended meetings. So far, it is easy to follow. If anyone one wants to be a weight loss buddy with me, welcome. We can all use all the support we can get.

I know from my life experience that I am strong stubborn person who does not easily give up once I've made a choice. And since I still don't have a full-time job, now is the perfect time to spend this "free" time on myself, getting myself more fit and healthy so that when I do get a job my stamina to handle the daily grind will be super and I'll have energy to devote to all the things I love.

Hope you have a great Thanksgiving.

Neysa