Too many migraines this week; must sleep now.

Proper post soon!!

Thank you for your patience

This blog may taper off….

I can feel a migraine starting to breathe behind my temples and up the right side of my skull; the skin along the crest of my right cheek is starting to numb. I am lucky. To date, the prescription meds — taken early enough — have always held the full-blown, blinding, chemical-burn-like, migraines at bay. But things are a bit different this time. This is not just a sinus-triggered migraine. It is not one of my unique, Big-Emotion triggered ones. It is emotion, plus sinus, plus stress, plus grief…I doubt medicine can dull all that.

I need to explore data on mindfulness and physical pain. I engaged in meditation for many reasons: to alleviate sadness; to assist general focus; to reduce stress, and to set aside depressed thoughts. PHYSICAL pain? Especially in my head region, it completely derails me.

I had heard stories from migraine sufferers growing up. The tale of a head banging into a wall is one that stands out in my memory. I assumed it was metaphorical. I know better now.

When I got my first migraine, I had no idea what was going on. It built up over several hours. First I took ibuprofen. Then I drank a lot of water. Then I tried Tylenol. And more Tylenol…By 10:00pm I was in a fetal position on the floor, barely able to see through tears welling relentlessly, trying to line up the grooves at the sides of my skull with the edge of the door and its jamb, thinking that if I could squeeze my head just right I might feel better…Thankfully, on some level I realized that was stupid. I then tried what was, in retrospect, equally stupid: I topped off all the previous meds with a behemoth shot of Nyquil. I don’t know if it made the migraine go away, but it did make me sleep.

My point being that pain in my skull makes me stupid. Hazardously stupid.

I now keep both prescription and over-the-counter medicines on me at all times. I am lucky that my migraines are usually distinctive in their start-up, so I can cut them off at the pass. But…but…The medicine I take (a generic of Imitrex) works for me, but what if some day it stops? How do I prevent the hazardous stupidity?

I know that for pain in other areas of the body I can get some relief through distraction. Burns, back pain, sprains – all can be almost forgotten if my mind becomes fully engaged in an activity. I need to progress my practice to alleviating pain within the region of my skull.

In fact, I need to practice it now.

Warned you this might taper off —-

 

 

*Migraine by Oliver Sacks is one of his early, lesser-know books. I have not read it. Why? Because upon glancing through it I realized that I did not want my brain to know how much MORE horrid things could be…

So far as I know, that is not a book title, though I suppose one exists out there in the world somewhere.

No, this post is a intermission. A pause in my themes of finding health; a respite from trying to shine a positive light in the struggle to feel good in both body and mind.

Today is just a sober reminder: there is no louder voice in the world than the one in your own head. Attend. Teach it to listen to your soul more than your mind. Teach it to be resilient; to stretch out of habit thoughts; to be eager and willing to learn and ponder new ideas — and to not act as judge and jury of your life.

Teach your inner voice to listen to your soulSelf. Do not let it be drowned out by the sounds of emotions, or society. Do not try to drown it out with unhealthy habits — be they patterns of thoughts, or dangerous activities.

Teach it to listen, so that it can hear your own survival instinct cheer you to healthful actions. Teach it to listen, so that you can hear the love and respect behind the ‘irritating’ advice of loved ones — thereby REALIZING that you are worthy of that love and respect.

I want you make your inner voice strong, grounded, and resilient.

Because someday a voice of illness might creep into your mind, and I want you to feel firm and capable when you face it. So that if you experience a cascade of negative thoughts, you can step firmly aside and say “That is the illness speaking, not ME, and I need not feel it’s words.”

If you read this, try it for me?

Ponder Pema Chodron’s quote that “You are the sky — everything else is just the weather.” Feel yourself as the sky! Just observe the weather.

“Tikki-Tikki-Tembo-No-Sa-Rembo-Chari-Bari-Ruchi–Pip-Peri-Pembo!”

This is a phrase I loved to rattle off as a child. According to my brother, 8 years my elder, I used to run up to him randomly, rattle that off, and then refuse to tell him what it was all about. (I, personally, do not remember that part.) The phrase is the name of a young boy in the story, and his family addressed him by his full name as an honor of being first born.

In trying to think up this week’s blog, I hit a blank wall. So I thought perhaps if I decided on the title first, it would inspire me. What lodges in my mind? You guessed it! Tikki Tikki. A childhood book and its relation to mindfulness? Don’t think so. Can I relate it to Pilates? Nope! Diet? Nope. Health? Hmmm…maybe??

In the story, Tikki Tikki Tembo falls into a well, and almost drowns, because his breathless little brother cannot get the long name out to tell adults what happened. I’ve fallen down a well — metaphorically. And it took far too many words to get help. And it was adult society that rendered me breathless.

You see, in my family you ‘pick yourself up by your own boot-straps’. In my part of the world, you ‘pick yourself up by your own boot-straps’. Depression is just ‘a mood’, and you are required to ‘get over it’ or outlast it until your mood shifts. Even once it became popularly acknowledged that there was an actual illness by the name “Depression” and differentiated from a “depressed mood”, it was still addressed the same way. Why? Because you did NOT want to have a mental illness. It was better to be a sullen weakling than mentally ill.

In this atmosphere, in this society, you can end up exhausting yourself trying to climb out of a deep well alone by yourself. All the time you are scrabbling to get up and out, water may be rising around your feet. If you notice the water, you become scared, which renders you even more breathless. You know there are people out there with a ladder, but who and where? It’s a sad truth that you may know you need help, and be willing to accept help, but have no ability to call out because it takes too many words.

What do I mean? If you are actively suicidal, you can call a help line, which is a great blessing. But what if you are not that far down the tunnel, yet can see the darkness coming? What do you do? When you still have your $#it together enough to want privacy, and need connection with something more personal than a voice on a phone, what do you do? How many people know the answer? Very few.

What you will probably find is a list of ideas of things you might try, or a list of people who might be able to tell you who to call next — each of which will require explanations, and self-revelations that may feel brutal. At any step in this chain of people and ideas, your energy may give out. At any point you may slide further down. I was lucky. I listened to people throughout my life, and when danger loomed large enough, I knew someone I could call to cut through the lists. I was also lucky enough to still be able to discern my needs and state them: “…I need help. It needs to be a woman; she needs to be a bit older than me, and if she doesn’t have a sense of humor it won’t work…”

My point with all of the above is that we need to prepare for mental ailments just as we do for physical sickness. Our healthcare system is not set up for annual psych exams like our annual physical exams, but in our own way we should prepare. If you break out in a rash, you probably already know of a doctor you can call. It should (ideally) be the same if you have a mental case of hives.

Listen – Learn about the psychiatric offerings in your area; just like you listen to people review their doctors, and house builders, and their car mechanics; try to get some insight on who is good, or even just insight on who-knows-who.

Think Ahead – What qualities would a person need to have for you to connect with them at your lowest, or most fearful? What do you trust? What experiences should be understood? Who would you respect? If you ask the average American woman what she wants in a gynecologist, she will have some sort of answer. Ask the same woman what she would want in a shrink? Blank stare.

Know – Learn the difference between a counselor and a psychiatrist – not just the difference in their academic degrees – know that the psychiatrist is a doctor who works on chemistry, and that a counselor works on skills; know whether your state allows one person to do both jobs (mine does not); if the need arises, ask whether your condition benefits most from one, or the other, or BOTH together.

Be Mindful – Set yourself a reminder; make a benchmark: vow to yourself that you will get any aid you need before you are in a full crisis. After all, if you see a cold coming, you do not hesitate to take Vitamin C and get extra sleep – if you see a rough time ahead please do not hesitate to make a call.

*Tikki Tikki Tembo by Arlene Mosel and Blair Lent (Illus.) is a book from my kindergarten year, which is still popular today. (Although I suspect it is not a terribly PC tale, when you really look at it…?)

It’s a bit demoralizing…The more I look into this whole weight loss idea, the more I realize that only one bit of data seems consistent: from around the 1950’s, apparently, there has been research suggesting that the key to being slim is to never get fat. Most diet/weight ideas end up with as much data disproving them as supporting, but no one seems to have research saying the above is untrue. Once you’ve been fat, it is easier to be fat again. The reasons are disputed, but no one seems to deny the fact.

It’s as if, once your body has believed it needs extra weight to protect you, it will never be convinced you won’t need it again…-?-…Even if the message of “need” was a faulty transmission from your thyroid, or a cortisol load from chronic stress.

Then there’s an article about the whole “What looks younger? Curves with a smooth face, or a fit body and wrinkles?” So let’s start fretting again about how the skin-stretch from extra weight will cause aging once the pounds drop.

It all makes for an endless and loud internal debate about how hard weight loss will be, and whether we can lose enough, and will it all be worth it…

Aesthetically, a smooth face may look younger than a wrinkled one; yet our society denigrates extra pounds; yet our society does not revere age…

Health-wise, an appropriate weight has numerous advantages! But your healthy weight may allow for wrinkles, or be heavier than the national ideal…

Which brings us back to the aesthetics, which leads back to the idea of health, which leads back to aesthetics, which leads to…yadda yadda yadda.

What it may boil down to is psychological health, and whether feeling good can protect us from society’s opinions of both age and weight?

I’m thinking it can.

There is solid research that shows that physical health is a major determinant of mental health. Whether it is jogging to relieve depression, or yoga to heal trauma, or meditation to ease ADD, or the potential effects of gut flora on mood – over and over again we find that you can use your body as an input to your mind.

What if the value of our healthy weight is in being happy — an internal, positive thing within the scope of our control? What if the value is NOT on being sexy or young or popular — all external perceptions by others who are waaaayyy out of our control?

Notice the quiet? The debate grows silent. Happiness wins.

* The Body Keeps the Score is a book by Bessel Van Der Kolk – densely packed, and full of some troubling stories of trauma, but an amazing look at how the body and mind are connected, and how working with the body can help heal trauma.

Anxiety dreams do, simply put, (in my opinion) suck.

When the dreams are symbolic, they can get confusing. I once dreamt this convoluted scenario where a former teacher took my entire cohort on a field trip – all of us dressed in costumes that were distinctly J.K. Rowling in style. Odd, granted, but at least in was interesting and colorful…Until we started going though dark steel corridors, with black stone floors that sloped steeply…And some strange guy in a poorly made turban kept trying to chat me up, with an invasion of body space…He was being encouraged by some guy in a vampire get-up…Who I eventually discovered was an Ex in disguise… So it started as a school dream, and ended up as a something-or-another about a long-dead relationship??

COnfUsING.

Then there are the anxiety dreams that are straightforward…Direct. Blunt. Like a club to the head. That is the kind I’ve been having all week.

I see myself back in the professional program I recently completed, but the instructor will not look at me…

I find myself in a merry, crowded restaurant, and see a former lecturer – who scowls and turns away…

I go to the mall and see a group of former classmates veer away from me like a flock of starlings on the wing…

All of which make perfect sense, once you know that I’m due to take a 6-hour, professional certification exam next week.

My point? People worry about the meaning of dreams. We ponder the symbolism. We look for portents. We assess patterns; wonder at what and where; debate color significance, and whether individuals represent themselves, or are used to represent something else. But perhaps people worry about the meaning of dreams, when the task should be simply to make the dreams useful?

Do I understand why my cohort was in costume in the first dream? No. Do I ‘get’ why my classmates moved in a pattern associated with birds and schools of fish? Not really. Could I spend a lot of time brooding over the unfairness of a week full of unpleasant dreams? Easily. Could any of that be useful? Possibly…?

BUT rather than spend all that time and analytical energy in an already busy week, might it be better to say, “These are all anxiety related. Let’s treat the anxiety,” and to practice some calming self care? Might it be better to focus on prepping for a stressful exam, than to brood over why my brain is choosing one dream venue over another?

My film analysis teacher once warned us of his craft, “You can learn a lot from dissecting a goldfish, but you can’t put it back together and have it swim.” (I think he attributed the metaphor to Alfred Hitchcock.) If you dissect every film you watch, you may stop experiencing them as the creator intended. If you dissect every dream, it could have an impact too…

 

*Okay, that is a movie title, not a book title, but it has been a weird week, and the title is suitable. It’s a 1977 Mel Brooks film. Not to be confused with High Fidelity, which was a 2000 film starring John Cusack – ‘though both are worth watching.

 

Ever just lose a week?

You do what you need to do, and you seem busy all the time, but at the end of it nothing feels DONE?

This has been a lost week. It’s not that I ‘checked out’ – work hours were put in and laundry was done. So why does it feel so vacant when I look back at it? I’ve been frustrated by the feeling of wasted time all weekend, and I finally stopped doing things, sat, and really pondered, “Why?”

Is it because I’m ending my week with my “To Do” list still full of items?

No – that’s true at all times, productive weeks and non-productive alike; it stays long because either I’m not crossing things off, or because each thing I do cross off reminds me of something to add.

There is a pattern in the things that are not crossed off.

What did I not do this week?

I did not take time to meditate.

I did not take time to write Thank You notes.

I did not walk outdoors.

I did not pause to explore new or interesting ideas.

I did not take time to eat slowly and enjoy my food….

See the pattern? They are all things that require my attention. Does life require I do laundry? Yes. Is getting a paycheck vital to survival? Yes. But while I took care of all those sorts of things this week, I gave nothing my attention. I was not mindful of what I was doing. Nothing I did connected me with people I care about; nothing I did furthered my goals as a person; nothing progressive happened. Every single moment was passed planning the next: next load of laundry, next thing to organize, and next obligation to meet. I did not think about my food, much less notice its nutritional value. I spent my workouts wondering about work issues, not being attentive to my body.

Even idle moments were spent reassessing my list, and the best way to prioritize it. Realistically, if you added those moments up? I lost hours to wondering if I was doing things the best way, instead of simply doing my best. Those wasted moments would have provided enough time for connecting with friends, being healthful in my eating, and getting some walking meditation in.

Time was lost because I was ONLY busy, not attentive.

So this week, there is no “To Do” list. Instead, there is only a list of things I will give my attention to.

 

*FLUSH is the title of a YA novel by Carl Hiaasen. I remember being disconcerted when he came out with a YA title – his adult works being very, well, “rated M for mature”. He succeeded wonderfully.

 

I just mainlined a cola.

It was one of the small, glass bottles. And I can tell myself that it is a lunch substitute, but we all know what it was: a craving given into. I was hungry and thirsty, and longing for sugar, and the pop was there! Sigh

ANYWAY. I missed posting last week because I was at a mindfulness retreat, and being new to this whole Blogging Thing, I didn’t think to post that I would be offline. I apologize.

The retreat was about 5 days long, on a lake in Minnesota. I won a last minute scholarship that enabled me to go. I am still processing a lot of the experience, and hope to write about it eventually, but right now, let’s look at the aftermath.

For 12 meals I ate vegan, and ate mindfully. In some ways it was the greatest physical challenge of the retreat. Not the food itself – the staff did an amazing job of providing good, nutritionally balanced, vegan food. No, my problem was the eating of it…You see, I eat too fast.

In the USA this is something of a norm. In my work worlds we typically get one 30 minute lunch break; half the population seems to eat at a desk while working; the other half never gets lunch on time, and is so hungry by break that we inhale our food whole. This lunch habit becomes a food habit, and before we know it, all meals are consumed in less than 20 minutes flat. So I went into this retreat knowing that I eat too fast, hurrying my hands, and not pausing between items.

I didn’t realize I even chew fast. And swallow fast. And take a second bite of food before the first is completely gone from my mouth. There is nothing like being surrounded by 140 people eating mindfully to make realizations dawn on you!

Eat: Chewchewchewchewchew….

                        Dawning: Chew, chew, chew…

                        Reaction: Chew….Ummmm….Swaaah-looow…Put hands in lap…

For 12 meals I thought about my food before touching a utensil – how it had grown, about the people who tended it, harvested it, cooked it. I put my fork down between each bite. I masticated slowly. I swallowed thoughtfully. It took at least 40 minutes to eat one modest plate of food. I felt great! Partly because it was a struggle, so I got a feeling of accomplishment, but mostly I just Felt Better. Despite the unusual foods, I never had a moment of stomach disquiet the entire time I was at the retreat. Despite getting up at 5:45a.m, I never finished a meal craving desperately for a nap. It was lovely!

12 hours after I arrived home, I had my first ‘home cooked’ meal = processed turkey, a butter roll, and a mug of café olé bolted in under 5 minutes. I had to fight to stay awake thereafter.

During the entire 5-day retreat I ate one snack (a breakfast nut bar); there were no desserts provided, and I allowed myself a 1-inch square of dark chocolate a night…Which I did not even think to eat on two nights.

By my second day home I was eating half a milk chocolate bar after lunch and dinner.

The chocolate is around. This household has dessert after lunch and dinner. It has always been so. And it has always been easy for my elder mother to indulge – the heaviest she has ever been in life was 127 lbs, and it took eating full-cream ice cream every night for months to do that. And it is also easy for her to forgo, because she simply does not crave masses of sugar.

I on the other hand — ? When I was a kid I used to sneak into the kitchen and eat a spoonful of sugar – straight — on the sly. I blame the Mary Poppins song. (It is truly a wonder that I maintained a normal weight until this middle age/school stress/thyroid thing.)

Have I mentioned my mother expresses love through baking? And that she considers the word “diet” a synonym for “dangerous”? I mentioned my need to cut way back on sugars and carbs, and the next day found a tin of home baked sugar cookies on the counter and three packs of chocolate bars in the cupboard.

I need two plans: 1) to have healthy food ready that is equally easy to access as the baked goods, and 2) a way to deal with the very real sugar cravings that derail me when I get hungry.

So now I am making a grocery list, and have begun reading the book *The Craving Mind by Judson Brewer. Can almonds, carrot sticks, and a book, make a difference?

Stay tuned to find out.

Emotional baggage is a reality.

How heavily or lightly you carry it may be somewhat a choice. How it is organized, how obvious it is to others, and how obvious is it to you – all are things you can opt to make choices about. I’ve heard that some emotional baggage can even be discarded, but I admit I’m unclear about how this is done.

Emotional baggage is a reality, and if it bursts open the contents can impede your view, knock you off-balance, even derail you for a bit…

My oldest emotional baggage is my dad’s death from cancer; he was 48 and I was 7. I look like my dad, and I sound like my dad, and when I was 23 I had a cancer scare that blew this deeply stored baggage wide open. Everything turned out okay, but it did obscure my view and derail me for a bit…I may have even tumbled down a hill or two. Once I was given a clean bill of health I shook everything out, folded it neatly, packed it back up, and placed it where I could see it so it would not catch me off guard again.

Over the years, Life kicked the boxes occasionally – symptoms that seemed too familiar would rock the contents and spike more anxiety than strictly necessary. But I never smoked, by most people’s standards I barely drink, and I took up mindfulness meditation and exercise. I came, eventually, to believe I would live to see 50.

Ten days ago I found a lump where there has not been one before.

The baggage rocked. I found I couldn’t see my doctor for four days – and the lids started to pull away on the trunks. But I could clearly see it happening this time. I breathed; I patted the lids back into place. I breathed, and I found that my gut instinct wasn’t alarmed – for the first time gut instinct was not drowned out by the anxiety. I had to wait a couple more days for a mammogram. And then I had to get an ultrasound….

At every pause, at each period of ‘hurry up and wait’, the baggage would strain to get loose. At each twitch of the boxes I would pause, and breathe – and I found I could gently tuck things into their proper place. It wasn’t perfect. I was not able to study, and I found myself avoiding people for fear I’d mention it, and then any concern they might have could knock my own fears loose.

But it was amazing!

To be able to sense my instinctive, insightful, Self in such a situation was phenomenally cool! To be able to go about my general business – make my workout classes, and attend to my job – without being sub-par was wonderful! No, I did not progress in my studies. No, I did not progress with my diet. Yes, my socialization (always introverted) cut back even more…But the improvement over my pre-meditating self => AMAZING!

And I was given an “All Clear” by the doctors.

And now I can write again.

 

*Author of Doctor Susan Love’s Breast Book – until recent times pretty much the only tome for the laywoman to learn anything useful about those upper appendages, so to speak.

Dive in? All in? Wade?

Take on all aspects at once? Exercise, nutrition, and all else? Or stagger the starts?

I’m trying to figure out how to do this major, life-altering Thing, and I’m not confident in where to start what, or how. It’s like smokers trying to decide whether to gradually cut back, or go “cold turkey”. Do I kick up the exercise at the same time as I cut out sugar? Do I cut out ALL sugar at once, or gradually reduce it? Do I cut out carbs at the same rate I do sugar?

I have a month or so to get a head start on this; I just finished full time school, and cannot get a full time job until I pass my board exams in a few weeks. I’m told it takes a person 90 days to set a habit, so I feel some serious pressure to get things underway. Exercise is the least intimidating at the moment, because I am in the enviable position of working for a Pilates studio; in the last week I have worked out five times. Whether I’ll be able to maintain this exercise routine longterm -?- but I can start.

However, working on the nutrition part is…worrisome.

I’ve done some (admittedly erratic) research on dietary habits.

Nutritionally, I’m building a model of eating that blends the overlapping and dovetailing bits of Anti-inflammatory, Low Glycemic, and Keto. (I can’t just follow a trend, it’s not Me.) What’s wonderful is that I’ve friends on Keto, diabetic, or Anti-inflammatory, diets that are being supervised by doctors; it helps me vet my sources. It has also given me some insight as to the order of things. There are conflicting ideas regarding whether to go cold turkey or not, but one piece of advice is solid: “Don’t start at all until you’re prepared.” I thought at first this meant knowing the rules of my diet and being prepared for the side effects of changing it.

I was wrong. My people explained to me that it means being prepared throughout your house, your day, and your night. It is making sure you have at least a 2-week meal plan laid out before you start. It is having your “safe” snacks, and/or coping mechanisms in place, and having temptation out of reach. As one friend put it: “if you get too hungry and have to eat, you must have food on you, because almost anything you can buy that is quick and cheap will be bad for you. You have to PLAN.”

The advice is good. It has structure. It is a concrete Plan….I find it intimidating as hell.

It means shopping out of my own pocket, because no one in my household is going to go in on this with me. It means using the kitchen – which I avoid because I live with a perfectionist who feels compelled to “help” with everything, and to notice even the tiniest scratch on a pan or utensil. It means holding on by my fingernails, because I can’t get temptation out of the way – the household is carbohydrate-driven, there will always be bread and chocolate around.

I’ll have to get my courage up. I’ll have to tighten my budget up. Wish me luck?

 

 

*The Order of Things is also a book title by Kifper – an amazing compendium of lists! The order of planets, the order of military ranks, just about anything you can wonder about. (I’m a Book Nerd)