Category: Mindful

Choosing Your Identity

So, it is my hope that the title of this blog posts intrigues you because, well, it should.  If you are a human being enjoying a physical experience in 2020, or, the Year of the Pandemic, you will not walk away from the experience unscathed or the thinking life is still the same as this time last year.  Something in you will change because that is exactly why life throws us these challenges – hurdles, problems, experiences – however you label the situation.  Good or bad.  These are all learning experiences.  The label does not change the experience; it is your selection of how you wish to see the experience that determines your own personal outcome. That’s right.  YOU CHOOSE.

When this Pandemic began, I was already in a precarious position with my mental illness and struggles through Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) that usually clears around April.  For me, SAD feels like a heaviness that begins as the darkness comes early in the Northeast.  I developed SAD when I moved East back in October of 1992.  Or, I should say, I realized that I may have a mental illness which was in itself very scary.  Living on my own in a state far across the country from my family created the need for me to stand on my own two feet.  In September 1993, I felt the darkness begin to descend again and sought counseling so, on my 30th birthday, I was sitting in a psychiatrist’s office discussing my conditions.  Mental illness can come in any situation and may no longer be tainted by the “You’re ill?” brush yet it still is difficult to admit that you have a chemical imbalance when you don’t necessarily have any physical pain.  Since then, I’ve been very attentive to my moods so that I may manage my conditions with a positive outlook.  When there is so much negativity, I feel this very keenly and will actually just leave the room or situation.  I do not possess the ability to argue or fight about this.  It just is the way I handle my shit.

So, I’ve had to take a break from social media for a while.  I felt my SAD did not lift as prior years.  Normally, come April, I am really ready for the longer, warmer days of spring and summer.  Thanks to the 2020 Pandemic, my moods began fluctuating to various extremes between anger, resentment, and a brutal sadness that dripped off of me.  I felt the weight of my thinking very keenly and brought out my usual coping mechanisms.  With the fighting of strangers in the news and the lack of tolerance and patience that seems to be a majority mindset, I felt myself sinking into a mental state of dispair that was so keen that for a split-second I actually contemplated leaving this mortal coil.  (I’ve always liked the old-timey reference to life as a “mortal coil” which Wikipedia defined as “…a poetic term for the troubles of daily life and the strife and suffering of the world. It is used in the sense of a burden to be carried or abandoned. To “shuffle off this mortal coil” is to die, exemplified in the “To be, or not to be” soliloquy in Shakespeare’s Hamlet.”)   I found myself on the floor, hysterical, thinking about how sad my mother and sister would be at my decision.  This made me think of what really is important in life: the present.  I sought therapy once again.  Happily so, today, I learned something new about my illness that has helped me be better and, actually helped me realize some of my dreams.  Isn’t life truly amazing?

Rather than engaging with people I don’t know about really important topics, I decided to restrict my social media access.  This “break” allowed me to focus on what is really imporant and that is what I can do now.  My depression originates organically and genetically.  Without going into too much boring detail, I have extreme anxiety that forces me to always be in the future in a type of prevention mode.  I deal with my anxiety by shelving it which, in hindsight, isn’t too healthy.  (Working on that one.) In July, I registered an extreme blood pressure caused by stress, 174/120.  I also realized that caffeine contributed to the jitters (Thanks, Mom!) and I have been caffeine-free since July.  The difference is really startling for me.  My heart palpations have just about gone unless I’m having a panic attack.  (Aren’t those wonderful?)  I’ve identified when I have a panic attack coming on and am able to prepare and ride through the feeling, or I’ve learned about the Law of Resistance and to better manage that.

Many of you probably didn’t know this, and it could be a surprise to you.  That is how a mental illness like depression works.  We may not even realize we have this until you have a breakdown moment or a reaction that is out of character.  Please, seek help.  By admitting I needed help, I turned a huge corner in my own management of my conditions.  Admitting I was suffering allowed me to move through the pain and feelings by taking steps to help myself.  My doctor told me to raise my dopamine levels through regular exercise each day.  As of today, I am three weeks in to a new habit of daily exercise for mental health.  I’ve been able to keep this up as I’ve made it a part of my identity just like my depression.  I am a person who has depression that is under treatment.  It is not my identity but a condition that makes me uniquely me.  Each of us may have suffered some other mental or physical reaction to the Pandemic.  I encourage you not to resist your feelings.  Please exercise healthy self-care and realize that your condition or situation is not who you are but one of those aspects that make the “mortal coil” worth enjoying.  Be well. Peace.

 

 

Where Do Thoughts Come From?

Have you, gentle reader, ever wondered where thoughts come from?  I never have until a recent series of singular albeit related events.  These events appeared randomly over a series of years and in very different situations.  As they happened, there was no known or expected correlation between the events.  In my attempts to work through current pandemic and quarantine effects – and my response to them – I realized that my responses to these events led to my next challenge or opportunity/event.  My dawning realization that all of my life events are somewhat tied to my thinking made me wonder just where thoughts originate and if their source made a difference in how I responded to my thinking.  I pondered how a lack of intention and misperception could impact my thinking and the next event.   

I’ve been very interested in the origination of thinking or thoughts these past few months and, truthfully, I’ve been very interested in people’s “whys” as an effort to find my own sense of purpose.  My thinking (pun intended) these days wonders whether thoughts originate from the brain or if thoughts are interpreted by the brain (totally external) or a combination of these two activities?  This leads me to the thought that if there is a combination, is one more predominant than the other?  And, how does our perception of the internal and external “us” impact our interpretation of a thought?  Does one’s preference for introversion or extroversion impact thinking?  I plan to explore some of these thoughts (I’m on a roll, gentle reader, with my puns) and hope that you may also benefit for I think I’m called to share this information on my experience so you may stop and consider your own experience and what it may have taught you.  Life is about teaching us all and our shared experiences will benefit from being told for it is the connectedness that allows humanity to thrive and, IMHO, survive.  

Be well, and Happy July 4th.

The Restoration, All Parts

Last month, I wrote a blog post called “The Restoration, Part I” where I mused over my disordered thinking and perception, and my realization that this may have gone on unchecked in my brain for quite the long time. It was through the extreme discipline required by the pandemic that forced me to these realizations. The change in the title of this blog post from a single “part” to “all” parts reflects my intense introspection and its infinite application in my life. Over the past four months, I’ve distilled this to a single thought that applies virtually everywhere I look:

Be a student, not a judger.

While the quarantine began for me on March 5, 2020, the extreme restriction actually did not have a mental impact until the end of March when I had to first wear my face covering…and became hysterical. Downright howling, tears, frustration, self-condemning shit all because of being required to wear a face covering. I told my husband I didn’t want to live in a world like this and I was dead serious about it, pleading with him to run me over with the car and end it. Living this way was not what I wanted for myself and the heaviness and enormity of the situation was more than I could handle. While I understood the reasoning behind covering my nose and mouth, the emotions still raged. Why? And, instead of condemning or belittling myself, I began to study my reaction through eyes of self-love. This was and continues to be a huge step for me.

Be a student, not a judger.

Since then, I’ve been in deep contemplation about aspects of my own self, their causes and effects, and what meaning I’ve attached to them. The cry for help and relief was so desparate for me that I knew I needed to act or else I would go insane. Instead of harshly judging myself, however, I have learned to question these emotions. Through this effort, I realized that I am not alone and that this extreme situation brings out really visceral reactions. Each outting with my mask has become a bit easier. My sister has taken to sewing face coverings and kindly mailed me a few. This sense of fun in harsh times has helped to lighten my mental mood. Thank you, Michelle, for your kindness extends farther than you realize. (Isn’t that the way of kindness?)

Be a student, not a judger.

This simple statement, above, was what I had in my automatic writing exercise this morning. (This is one of my habits I’ve developed in the pandemic and has been surprising insightful.) I’ve also been more a peace with myself and I’ve become okay with being quiet. In learning, one must be quiet and develop the ability to listen without judgment so I feel like I’m working on the first part okay but the second part is really a challenge. For an introvert, I usually have a lot going on behind my eyes. Unfortunately, it can be what I’m cooking for dinner that evening or replaying my tenth grade band practice from 1979 over and over again. Usually totally random crap.

I believe listening is a lost art that needs to have a renaissance. In working on my listening and examining my habit to be distracted, I began an intensive course offered by Eckhart Tolle called “Conscious Manifestation.” (This link is for your information. I receive no financial benefit from a referral…full disclosure.) I’ve been studying communication and the idea of self in our being and doing. I’ve also been studying the structure of beliefs and meanings to improve my own ability to listen empathically. I began to study Tolle years ago and was confused. Not any more. (Thank you, Pandemic.)

Be a student, not a judger.

Look forward to more content on judgment and how we do this without even realizing it. How many times have you judged someone based on their skin color or uniform? Or how many times have your been judged by others? I’m damn sick and tired of it and have decided to be a “no judgment” type of person. I’m okay with you doing you as long as I can do me because I’m learning that I like me and this is enough, as I am enough. Be well and enjoy nature and summer. Spend time in love and be patient with yourself and each other. Blessings, and happy summer.

The Addition

Last month I wrote about my realization that in my struggles to improve, I believed I needed to be less than…something.  The idea of subtraction to fit in was what I learned and believed to be how “things get done.”  I no longer believe this to be true and, actually, this idea is a very dangerous road of misunderstandings, self-betrayal, and my own death. 

[Note to Gentle Readers: What follows is a tale of my journey to a wonderful realization that I wish to share with you. It is my tale on how I realized that, by struggling with being physically smaller, I became mentally smaller. In writing this blog post, I sought to identify this feeling and found this very valuable information from HumanParts.com: In part, Brianna Wiest writes that “Your “small self” is a combination of habits, behaviors, and beliefs you adopted from those around you. You interpreted their needs and preferences and took them as your own. You assumed certain traits for defense, or safety, or because you just never took a minute to stop and think: But is this really who I am?” I had never thought of life and growing up quite like this. I hope you read and enjoy this article. Allow me to continue….<3]

About 2004-ish, I was given a diagnosis of psoraisis for a small “spot” on my leg.  It looked like a patch of skin no bigger than a dime that would not heal.   With a history of cancer in my family, I trotted off to my local dermatologist.  Unconcerned as the diagnosis did not include the skin cancer I could have sworn I had (delusions, anyone?), I just continued my regular lifestyle.  I was told you just need to live with it or use X or Y cream/salve/lotion.  Yeah? No. Move forward ten years.

In about 2014 where my psoraisis and health were left unchecked, that small patch became larger and slowly expanded, creeping up my calf on one leg and encircling it like a boa constrictor.  Like the movie The Blob, the mass just continued to grow and slowly spread over my lower extremities.  Doctors, creams, salves, etc., did nothing to stop the spread.  I gave up and just let it run amok as a perk of getting older and wore long pants.  I no longer got pedicures, embarassed at the condition of my legs.  In my purely physical evaluation of my condition, I concentrated on the external “result” of my disorder.  What I failed to understand is that psoraisis is not a skin disorder per say but an autoimmune disorder that comes OUT through the skin.  In other words, these eruptions were the tip of my health iceburg and, while my doctors gave me creams for my legs, they really did not delve into my role and how I might help myself.  This went on for about two YEARS and my psoraisis spread to my other leg, front and back of my lower legs, elbows, arms, and hands.  Still living with it as I gave up on steroid wraps, salves, bathing, sunlight treatments….<sigh> I noticed the first lesion on my face and ears. That was the final straw because I could no longer cover up the eruptions with clothing or gloves.

Cue 2016 and the cancer diagnoses.  This was dropped right in the middle of my health Wobble but I was unaware of the impact and how this served as a pivot for me.

Rather than continue on the familiar path I had worn thin through the years , the cancer served to divert me into a new health initiative.  I was so scared at how this foreign thing was in my body and I lived my life unaware that it lurked.  You see, my thyroid biopsies came back clear so to have found cancer during my parathyroid surgery was almost like winning the lottery for me.  This discovery while I was “under the blade” resulted in an immediate thyroidectomy decision by my husband.  (I cannot imagine how my husband must have felt being called in to a consultation room by my surgeon and told that I had cancer and he needed to decide right then and there what to do. He made the right choice for me.)  After recovery and radioactive iodine treatment, I was left with my normal modus operandi: How can I control my health through diet because, obviously, my ballooning weight needed to be subtracted because that was the problem and caused my cancer and unhappiness about myself.

What I failed to consider is that my over weight is a result.  No, not the cause.  A result.  I liked this way of thinking because I could then shift my own sense of blame (and resulting shame.)  I live with a never-ending source of shame, manufactured by yours truly.  I think it stems from being afraid to disappoint people.  (What? Where did that come from?  This is a new thought and just came into my mind as I type. I will put a pin in this because this may give later insight.)

I began to try to unravel the cause of my cancer and health, and relied on my tried and true “subtraction” method because it had been just so successful thus far.  (Hindsight? No, it hadn’t.) I was determined to manage my thyroid through diet along with my psoraisis.  I began a regimen called the AIP protocol which I implemented partially for about six months.  My health worsened, the psoraisis flared into huge red patches with silvery coatings.  The doctors gave me more creams because any drugs may be an issue considering my cancer and that the psoraisis was localized to my lower legs.  It was then that I began ramping up my medical visits to larger clinics, naturopaths — anyone who had an idea.  I was looking to remove whatever it was in my life that was causing me such physical and  emotional distress.  By the fall of 2018, I was depressed, living on very few food items that I enjoyed, and just feeling like I was a full and out failure.  Yes.  I am a failure because I could not manage my health and well-being, the body I was given for this lifetime.

Then, I had my vision.  [Gentle Readers: If you are wondering about this, please read my prior post called The Subtraction where I discuss a very odd dream.] In thinking about it, I still become emotional although the dream is a few years past.  This is how powerful an important “vision” can be…it is what is driving me to create this blog.  I felt in my vision so relaxed and confident.  I KNOW that this was me if I were in another life or path.  Me, if I had lived my life without such a degree of shame and blame…both on myself and those around me.  I decided that I liked feeling confident and relaxed and wanted that to be my full-time feeling.  I began toying with managing my diet not be subtracting anything but by adding healthy habits and keeping all of the other habits, too.  My thinking was to let those habits that I disliked fall away as no longer necessary once I had a better “addition.”  So, instead of removing sugar, grains, dairy, fats, etc., from my diet in an immediate and drastic “shift”, I began to add a piece of fruit to my diet.  That’s it.  I stopped mentally shaming myself when I preferred a bowl of ice cream.  As long as I ate my fruit, I met my goal.  I then decided to add a slice of bread to my diet.  Like my mother, I love bread…the old German kind with full grains.  Some of my most favorite memories is my mother and her bread.  I still visit and bring her a loaf or two of Heidleberg Bakery’s bread.  (Note: Must have toast for breakfast.)

I began seeing diet as a road map and not a punishment and, in January of 2019, joined Weight Watchers (now Wellness Wins), and, by June of 2019, I’d lost about 50 pounds.  The plan made sense and became second-nature to me.  Then, I hit the Wobble….and skid right down through it into a pit of my own emotional garbage.  I’m still here…struggling to maintain my weight loss in the middle of quarantining.  But, my struggle?  It’s a good thing as I am using the time to create a sense of ease for myself.  I’ve gained weight…and I’m okay with that, too.  I just refuse to subtract as a means of improvement.

If you’ve gotten this far in your reading, thank you. In my struggles to achieve, I’ve recognized that a good plan, daily check ins, and being kind to myself are key.  These will be my new additions and I’m looking forward to being able to do more “adding” to my day that will include more physical activities that I would enjoy.  For today, we have a cold, frosty morning.  I plan to finish my coffee, enjoy a nice slice of toast and send good wishes to my mom and sister so that they, too, find a sense of joy and peace in this world.  Hey, why not add it to your day??

The Wobble

I woke up one day. In waking up, I realized that my struggle of the day continued from the day before – and the day before that. Instead of beginning the day with the normal round of negative defensiveness, I began with wanting to understand the reason for my struggle. While lying in the warmth of bed (luxury), my thoughts turned to gratitude and the joy of being warm, comfortable, and surround by my loved ones. In that, I realized any struggle paled in comparison.

Through the lack of negativity and the overwhelming positivity, I recognized that the struggle was mine and based on perceptions of what I – or someone else – should be doing/being/behaving. The judgment that poured off me was startling and I felt the weight being removed from my shoulders in a physical feeling like one I had only known once before in my lifetime. (Another story.) Suffice it to say, I paid attention. A voice said to me you are just in the middle of learning.

Recognizing that I have something to learn in the experience is the wobble. It is our reluctance to own up to the wobble that keeps us in the wobble. Once you acknowledge your own wobble, you can begin to understand it and how you are benefitting from it. Believe me, you are benefitting from the wobble and, while it may not feel that way, the more positive the psychology, the better your outcome. It is my goal with this blog to help you in the wobble with information. This blog is my own personal experience as a professional wobbler resistor. It is not intended for medical or psychological treatment or guidance. It is my own view point. Take it or leave it.