Here's a lesson in irony for all you English students out there.
When I was a child I HATED pizza. I know, I know, it's crazy. A kid who doesn't like pizza?! But that was me. And it wasn't like I never tried it, I did! In fact, I desperately WANTED to like it. I hated having to bring my own food to a birthday party if I knew they were serving pizza, or explaining to my soccer coach that I didn't like it after he took the team out for lunch. More than once I either forced myself to swallow a few bites while trying not to gag, or I just went hungry. It was embarrassing and it made me feel like there was something wrong with me. I did everything possible to keep this strange eating quirk secret if I could.
Fast forward ten years, an evolution of taste buds, and a trip to Italy later, and suddenly Italian food is my absolute favorite. Pizza and Pasta everyday and I would be a happy girl. In fact, after my trip to Italy I became somewhat of a pizza snob (thin crust, fresh mozz,...mmm).
One more jump in time: The past year I've been struggling with health issues. Forgive me if it's TMI, but it's all part of the story. If you don't feel like reading about the messy details then go ahead and skip to the end, it still gets the point across.
It all started when I was pregnant with my second son. I started having a lot of digestive issues. Stomach cramps, diareah, nausea. At first I thought it was just normal pregnancy stuff. When I was about five months along though, I caught a stomach bug, and instead of it lasting 24 hours like they usually would, it lasted over a week. I was miserable and freaked out about becoming dehydrated. Nothing worked, even eating rice or bread would go right through me and I literally had to starve myself for almost two days in order to finally get better. After that incident I was concerned but things went back to normal for a bit so I was just focused on my pregnancy. Later that summer, after Skylar was born, I got sick again, except this time it lasted for almost a month. After starting to feel better for a few days I decided to have a nice breakfast since I was staying with some friends (we were escaping from no electricity at our house during Hurricane Irene). About twenty minutes after breakfast I felt an intense pain in my stomach and I knew I had to throw up. I quickly handed off my two month old to my husband and ran to the bathroom. My stomach was cramping and the vomiting was painful. Afterwards I collapsed on the bathroom floor, so weak that I could barely get up. I actually called my husband on my cell phone even though he was in the next room and told him I needed to go to the hospital. This time I really did get dehydrated. After a few hours on fluids and anti-nausea medication in the emergency room, blood tests, stool, and urine samples, I was told I could go home and anything unusual from the tests they would let me know. I followed up with my regular doctor and it took about a week longer to get over it completely. Nothing came back on the test results, so I went about life as normal. Things seemed to even out a bit over the next few months but every once in a while I would have that nauseous feeling again or wake up in the middle of the night with horrible stomach pains. Eventually I got sick of it, and after having not felt much confidence in my doctors I decided to do my own research. I looked up my symptoms online and possible things that could be causing them. After much research I decided to cut out gluten and dairy from my diet and see if it made a difference. It was really tough at first, but after about two weeks I started to feel better than I have in almost two years. I was feeling great, and not just physically, I felt a relief because I had finally figured out what was going on. I approached a doctor about getting tested for Celiacs Disease--a disease that causes the body to not be able to digest gluten and damages the small intestines. That's when I found out that I would have to start eating gluten again in order to get accurate test results. ugh. The first week was torture. Towards the end of the month my body built up a tolerance again, but I still felt like I was living in a fog.
I had an endoscopy and colonoscopy done, and all the necessary blood tests. Everything came back negative and the doctor said it must just be IBS (irritable bowel syndrome) which is basically a doctor's way of saying, "I have no idea what it is", with lactose and gluten intolerance. Okay, so great, no celiacs disease, just intolerant. So I continued to eat gluten free, but I admit that because the diagnosis wasn't serious, I began to cheat every once in awhile. All of a sudden I'm the girl who can't eat Pizza again! And even though it's not just a taste bud issue, but a medical one, it brings me back to that place as a kid, where I don't want to be the "weird girl" with food issues. If someone offers me a muffin, it's easier for me to accept it--knowing the physical consequences that I may suffer later--than to just explain I can't eat it and get "the look". I know that it's mostly in my head that anyone would think I am weird, or being hyper sensitive, or just on a fad diet. But for some reason it's something that I struggle with. It's like being ten and just wanting to eat a damn piece of pizza so I can fit in.
Just last week, after some cheating, I developed a rash. An ugly, itchy, annoying rash, on my chest and arms. The only thing I could think of that could cause it was my gluten intake. Which makes me put away any doubt that I am gluten intolerant and possibly even Celiac, even though my test results were negative (there is a high percentage of false negatives when testing for celiacs especially for people who already started eating gluten free). It's been a crazy journey, and it's made me realize some things about myself.
I am using this set back as a new beginning. Recommitting to the gluten free diet, no more cheating, and even more importantly, confronting these issues that seem to be resurfacing as a result. Among them, sharing my own struggles, listening to my body and trusting it, making peace with the hand I've been dealt, and not worrying about what others may think.
Good thing there is a bakery in town that makes an amazing gluten free pizza :)
Wishing you all health and happiness, spiritually and physically.
Showing posts with label starting again. Show all posts
Showing posts with label starting again. Show all posts
Monday, August 13, 2012
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Crabby Crab
I've always identified with my astrological sign, Cancer; intuitive, sensitive, creative, oh yeah, and moody. I like and enjoy being with people, but sometimes I need to hide in my shell and block it all out. It's a safe place, or at least it's supposed to be. This weekend, in the middle of a lovely gathering, I started feeling the need to retreat. I just wanted to get away, I didn't want to talk to anyone else, even though they were all friends and great people. I was just itching for solitude, for my cozy, safe, shell.
The next day it was like living in a fog. My energy was sucked completely dry. Just walking up and down the stairs made me exhausted. Everything around me seemed to scream how I was failing. The dishes in the sink confronted me; the pile of laundry accused me; the unchecked to-do list judged me. It was hard for me to think clearly or communicate, the only clear feeling was that of being overwhelmed. I don't know if any other crabs experience this, but I've learned that it's part of my nature and the way I deal with stress and emotions. My shell is not just a place of retreat, it's also the perfect little container for all of my worries, stresses, and anxieties. Because of this I often have a sort of double life. I present one face to the world, of being happy and upbeat, but really, all those negative feelings are just being hidden away. So when I go back to my shell, instead of a quiet, peaceful place for me to recharge, I am met with all of those things I was trying to get away from. I know from personal experience that the bottling up eventually overflows, and yet it's hard to break the habit. It's so ingrained that it's effortless, and most of the time I don't even know I'm doing it.
I have these days from time to time, but it's been awhile. It actually came as a bit of a shock, it was like my "old" self came knocking and said, "I'm still here, you can't get rid of me". It's easy to get a bit self-righteous when you are on the path of bettering yourself; practicing being mindful, doing things like yoga, meditation, and looking at the positives in life. It's easy to fall into the trap of thinking that you've mastered it. But life throws a curve ball just to make sure we don't get too arrogant. It's a good reminder that we are never done growing. That the "problems" in life don't go away, we just learn how to deal with them better. There are still things I have to work on in myself. There always will be.
That night before bed, even though the day was already over, I decided I had had enough. I laid down on my pillow and just focused on my breath. A simple two minute meditation. I looked over at my baby boy, Skylar, who was passed out next to me and it all started to melt away. I don't know of anything more peaceful or more joyful than a sleeping child!
God gives us lessons through our struggles, but he has also given us everything we need to overcome them.
I'm in the process of doing some spring cleaning inside my shell, and filling it up with the peace and love that I deserve. After all, the sun is in Cancer, it's my month!
The next day it was like living in a fog. My energy was sucked completely dry. Just walking up and down the stairs made me exhausted. Everything around me seemed to scream how I was failing. The dishes in the sink confronted me; the pile of laundry accused me; the unchecked to-do list judged me. It was hard for me to think clearly or communicate, the only clear feeling was that of being overwhelmed. I don't know if any other crabs experience this, but I've learned that it's part of my nature and the way I deal with stress and emotions. My shell is not just a place of retreat, it's also the perfect little container for all of my worries, stresses, and anxieties. Because of this I often have a sort of double life. I present one face to the world, of being happy and upbeat, but really, all those negative feelings are just being hidden away. So when I go back to my shell, instead of a quiet, peaceful place for me to recharge, I am met with all of those things I was trying to get away from. I know from personal experience that the bottling up eventually overflows, and yet it's hard to break the habit. It's so ingrained that it's effortless, and most of the time I don't even know I'm doing it.
I have these days from time to time, but it's been awhile. It actually came as a bit of a shock, it was like my "old" self came knocking and said, "I'm still here, you can't get rid of me". It's easy to get a bit self-righteous when you are on the path of bettering yourself; practicing being mindful, doing things like yoga, meditation, and looking at the positives in life. It's easy to fall into the trap of thinking that you've mastered it. But life throws a curve ball just to make sure we don't get too arrogant. It's a good reminder that we are never done growing. That the "problems" in life don't go away, we just learn how to deal with them better. There are still things I have to work on in myself. There always will be.
That night before bed, even though the day was already over, I decided I had had enough. I laid down on my pillow and just focused on my breath. A simple two minute meditation. I looked over at my baby boy, Skylar, who was passed out next to me and it all started to melt away. I don't know of anything more peaceful or more joyful than a sleeping child!
God gives us lessons through our struggles, but he has also given us everything we need to overcome them.
I'm in the process of doing some spring cleaning inside my shell, and filling it up with the peace and love that I deserve. After all, the sun is in Cancer, it's my month!
Saturday, May 12, 2012
to starting again
It's been three years since my last post. Three years! My first son was just a baby. Since then we've moved and had another baby boy, (Skylar Owen, 10 months). I've quit my singing gig, bought a mini van, and become entrenched in the full-time, stay-at-home-mom lifestyle.
It's easy to get discouraged after such a long absence. When you start, you're all inspired, consistency is easy. But just once you say, I'll get to it tomorrow. And then tomorrow turns into next week, next month, next year...and then after that long, what's the point? That's the thought that has kept me away for three years. Why is it so hard to start over?
I think I feel like I failed. I had an idea of what I wanted my writing and my blog to look like, and I am disappointed in myself that I couldn't keep up with it. It's easier to ignore it than to acknowledge my shortcomings, because that's what it takes to start over. You have to look back at what you did wrong, how you failed, swallow your pride, and move forward. You can't learn from your mistakes if you try to hide them away. No one is perfect, and it's never too late.
I remember a conversation with my mom awhile back where she was talking about someone who was thinking about going back to college. It went something like this:
-"but I'll be 30 and JUST finishing my bachelors degree"
mom: "and how old will you be if you don't go?"
-"30"
mom: "and you won't have a degree"
It's never too late. All it takes is the courage to start again. Hopefully when you take the first step, it's with more knowledge, humility, and determination.
Part of me wanted to create a completely different site and erase all of my previous posts from three years ago. But I think that's just my fear creeping in again. I know that I need to keep them there, if only to show how far I've come and to remind myself of what happens when I let the fear of failure run the agenda. I hope I can learn from the past and use it as fuel to move forward.
It's easy to get discouraged after such a long absence. When you start, you're all inspired, consistency is easy. But just once you say, I'll get to it tomorrow. And then tomorrow turns into next week, next month, next year...and then after that long, what's the point? That's the thought that has kept me away for three years. Why is it so hard to start over?
I think I feel like I failed. I had an idea of what I wanted my writing and my blog to look like, and I am disappointed in myself that I couldn't keep up with it. It's easier to ignore it than to acknowledge my shortcomings, because that's what it takes to start over. You have to look back at what you did wrong, how you failed, swallow your pride, and move forward. You can't learn from your mistakes if you try to hide them away. No one is perfect, and it's never too late.
I remember a conversation with my mom awhile back where she was talking about someone who was thinking about going back to college. It went something like this:
-"but I'll be 30 and JUST finishing my bachelors degree"
mom: "and how old will you be if you don't go?"
-"30"
mom: "and you won't have a degree"
It's never too late. All it takes is the courage to start again. Hopefully when you take the first step, it's with more knowledge, humility, and determination.
Part of me wanted to create a completely different site and erase all of my previous posts from three years ago. But I think that's just my fear creeping in again. I know that I need to keep them there, if only to show how far I've come and to remind myself of what happens when I let the fear of failure run the agenda. I hope I can learn from the past and use it as fuel to move forward.
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