So Sugar, what’s the deal?

Tags

anti-masturbation tactic, Anxiety, autoimmune, Depression, gluten free eating, Hashimoto’s thyroiditis, Healing, hypothyroidism, I Quit Sugar, inflammation, PTSD, quitting sugar, Sarah Wilson, sugar, thyroid

Gimme some sugar, Sugar

Hey honey! Sweetie, darling! Sweetcakes! Gimme some sugar!

Or rather… please don’t.

As I mentioned briefly last week, I’ve just started a brand new regime of quitting sugar.

Today is day three.

I know. WHY the heck would I do something like that? Maybe you’re staring at the screen in horror at such a suggestion. When I announced my plans on Twitter, someone asked me: All sugar, forever?

Even across the internets, I could hear the disbelief and tension in those three little words.

But really, why?

Good question! Glad you asked.😀

Here’s the skinny: I have Hashimoto’s thyroiditis. An autoimmune condition wherein my body has decided that my thyroid is a foreign entity to be attacked and destroyed. Thanks, body!

Hashimoto’s is inflammation in the body, and basically causes the thyroid to be underactive – meaning a slowed metabolism (hello, weight gain/difficulty with weight loss), an impaired immune system (getting sick a lot), low-low-low iron levels, a massive loss of energy (you try getting out of bed like this!) and a whole bunch of other less than lovely symptoms.

But if you’ve been reading this blog for a little while you’d know about some of this already. As well as my various efforts to heal my body. You can read some of my other posts if you like.

There’s all sorts of information out there about the causes (there are several), what to do about it, treatment (western and alternative medicine), what to eat and so on.

One of my key goals at the moment is reducing inflammation and trying to make my body chemistry as alkaline as possible.

Get your addict on

Here’s the thing about sugar: generally speaking it’s in everything we eat, when physiologically it’s only meant to be consumed sparingly.

As in, not every day. Heck, not even every week!

Too much sugar causes inflammation in the body, as well as contributing to weight gain, and possibly even things like making our minds whizz around too fast, sleep disturbances and so on.

Also, sugar is addictive. The more we have, the more we want.

For a somewhat humorous take on this, read how breakfast cereal was originally developed as an anti-masturbation tactic.

Been there, done it before

A bunch of years ago I did the whole sugar quitting thing. Not because I needed to (although really, we all need to at least reduce our sugar intake), but because it was a Thing.

A dieting technique: cut all sugars and all grains and the weight drops off!

While this is actually true, that kind of all-or-nothing approach can be hard to sustain.

But for the period of time I was on my ABSOLUTELY NO SUGAR kick, I felt and looked amazing.

Keeping it up is another story. Especially in our heavily sugar addicted culture. Especially when attempting to eat out with friends, or even order a drink in a bar. Seriously.

So I lapsed. Eventually my sugar intake was back to its previous levels and with it, much of the weight I’d dropped.

Then I was assaulted, developed PTSD and depression and started eating like shit because most days all I could manage was cheese and crackers, peanut butter on toast, eating out/ordering take-away, or ice cream. So I put on more weight.

Finally, I started to work on healing my mind, heart and soul. What I didn’t realise at the time is that mental health issues like PTSD, anxiety and depression absolutely mess with your body and brain chemistry, and even your DNA.

So as a result of all of this, I now have an autoimmune condition. More healing required! But then, when does it ever truly stop? And why should it have to?

Sarah Wilson’s “I Quit Sugar” e-book

Sarah Wilson's "I Quit Sugar" ebook

When I was first diagnosed, I took to Twitter to ask for information on thyroid stuff as well as gluten-free eating (recommended for thyroidy people).

One of the first crowd-sourced suggestions was to read Sarah’s blog.

She doesn’t just write about Hashimoto’s, eating gluten and sugar free – there’s lots of other cool posts, too.

Recently she published a little ebook (note: this is an affiliate link*) that I immediately snapped up. I’ve now read it cover to cover and this week I began my new journey to a sugar-free life!

The thing I like about Sarah’s approach is that she’s NOT all hardcore do-or-die about it. She suggests an eight week slowly-does-it technique.

Allowing you to ween yourself off the sweet stuff bit by bit.

* Which means that if you buy Sarah’s ebook from clicking on the above link, I get paid a small fee.

But really, for how long?

The answer to “All sugar, forever?” is: I don’t know. Maybe. We’ll see. It’s “for now” anyways. For the foreseeable future, yes.

Sarah even suggests that after you’ve “detoxed” from your sugar addiction, it might be possible to re-introduce limited amounts of sugar into your diet again.

But it really depends on your body and how it reacts to even a little bit of sugar. Does it kick off the addiction again or are you cool with tiny amounts?

You kinda won’t know until you detox for a few months and then give it a try.

So yeah, here I go with my new sugar-free living adventure.

Let me know if you’d like to join in so we can support each other. It’d be excellent to have a buddy along for the ride.

Anyways, I’ll be posting updates on my progress around once a week to keep myself accountable to someone – YOU!

Wish me well, m’lovelies.

~ Svasti xxx

My love for you is a flat screen TV

Tags

Anger, concrete, flat screen TV, Forgiveness, highly sensitive person, Kinesiology, Love, Repression, thyroid, unicorn sightings

Forgiveness. I’ve written about it before, both in terms of forgiving myself and others. For ages it was a very nice concept but like the top shelf in your wardrobe, out of reach. Seems that understanding how to forgive is about as elusive as unicorn sightings.

I’ve worked out why though. It’s because forgiveness isn’t so much about getting over stuff that’s happened. Instead it’s about seeing things as they really are. Like, really. Down to the bones, with no elaborations.

Like a lot of the work I’m doing lately, it’s all been going down on the kinesiology table. That’s where I was when I saw for myself how it’s always been and why.

A few weeks ago, I lay there on the treatment table staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at my kinesiologist. Joining the dots and dropping pennies in slots.

Fuck! So THAT’S why I’ve never been able to forgive my parents for anything, my whole life!

Clarity provides space and understanding and suddenly forgiveness isn’t even an issue any more.

So what happened, I hear you ask? Something came up in that session around the idea of “feeling overlooked and betrayed”. Immediately I knew this was OLD. Sure enough, back we went (back… back… back) and further again, to four year old me.

What do I recall about being four? Not much really. I was in kindergarten, I guess. I remember painting, the sandpit, story time, and the room with the hooks for our wee bags. The odd flash of kindergarten kid faces. My sister was two, my brother was six. This represents the sum total of my conscious four year old knowledge and memories.

But the conscious mind knows jack-shit sometimes, yeah?

Without a doubt, I’m what they call a highly sensitive person.

Highly sensitive people are born with fewer filters between themselves and the world than “regular” people-types. We feel everything more intensely. Our highs and lows are more extreme because that’s the way we’re built. There’s nothing wrong with us. It’s just a slightly different way of being.

For example, today the fact that I live in a place where there’s too much concrete was causing me a great deal of pain. Yeah, I know. It sounds stupid, right? But a lot of creative types are like this, and I suspect most people with mental health problems are, too.

My parents are NOT highly sensitive. A thousand and one times while growing up, I was labelled “too sensitive/emotional” and made to feel as though my reactions and experiences weren’t acceptable.

What I learned in my kinesiology session is that four year old me was both enraged and deeply saddened at being overlooked like this. At having her feelings belittled and constantly being told she was “too much”.

That rage? I’m pretty sure it’s fuelled all the anger I’ve ever felt in this lifetime.

The way my parents dealt with me must’ve been similar to what they told me about how they deal with my eldest niece. She’s like me – extra-sensitive – and to my horror, they calmly explained how they tell her “don’t be so silly”, or to “shake it off” when she’s “in a mood”. I saw major red flags right there, both for myself and my niece (I’ve had words with my sister since then)!

Of course, I was born to a mother who began grieving for my stolen half-brother way before I was born and a father who is so emotionally shut down that he remains a mystery to me, even today.

Knowing all of this, and working on my shit with kinesiology allowed thirty-nine year old me and four year old me to put all the pieces together. We finally got it!

Four-year-old me never felt acceptable just as she was and this set the stage for feeling like an alien pretty much my whole damn life.

My parents, despite their own emotionally crippled natures, did the best they could (I know – such a cliché right?). They never meant to wound me the way that they did. They didn’t know any better. However, that four year old girl has been seething in anger ever since.

Until now.

I was telling my neighbour about this and she asked – so how do you let something like that go? It’s like this: seeing things clearly and getting kinesiology work done just clears it the heck out.

This has allowed me to transform my relationship with my parents. No, we’re not best buddies all the sudden but I find I’m just not triggered by their actions the way I used to be. Even my sister has noticed the difference.

My folks don’t really do “I love you”. They also don’t do love and caring the way I do. They’re not so much into affection or the cooking of meals or the offering of lifts – the sort of practical things that would’ve been so beneficial to me when I was very sick earlier this year, not to mention all of the years I lived in PTSD-landia.

Instead, they’ll do stuff like give me a flat screen TV.

Yep. You heard that right. I might not see or hear from them for weeks or months, but I’m the first person they thought of when they wanted to off-load their old (but not actually that old) one; they’ve bought a monster-sized replacement (looking at their new TV makes my brain dizzy).

It should be said that spending money on a TV is possibly one of the lowest priorities in my life. But the gift was welcome enough, if only because I now watch DVDs on a better screen.

If this was a different time in my life I’d be cynical and bitter about inappropriate gift giving instead of more useful and supportive actions.

Now, I just see it for what it is: its love.

A few weeks back they also gave me their old digital video camera and I couldn’t really turn it down because I get that it’s their way of showing me they care in lieu of hugs or conversations.

And I’m good with that.

As my thyroid heals, so do many other things. After all, our minds, immune system, physical body, our sense of well-being – none of it is separate.

~ Svasti

The secret ones

Tags

belly-dancer, betrayal, chronic insecurity, dis-ease, disorder, disturbance, dysfunction, Essential Nature, Healing, imbalance, infection, infinitesimal heart fractures, inner light, Kinesiology, repressed emotions, thyroid, unconditional love

I’m not sure where in the world-wide-web the above image comes from, except that a friend sent it to me to share a little love from the other side of the world. Gorgeous, isn’t it?

Life is quite weird right now. I pretty much need all the love I can muster because I’m losing my bearings a little. But in a good way.

Thanks to the kinesiology work I’m doing (first with Kerry, then Amanda), I feel like there’s an awful lot of stuff shifting but it’s hard to explain exactly what that means. In fact, Kerry and I swapped a few messages on Twitter about just this topic today:

Svasti: Getting in ever deeper with the kinesiology work and the words don’t come as easily to explain.

Kerry: Sometimes you don’t know consciously what is shifting with the kinesiology. But shift things do!

Svasti: Oh. My. Word. Yes, they do!

Kerry: One client told me she doesn’t believe you can really know the true outcome of a session – more far reaching than you can tell.

Yep.

This fairly accurately sums up what’s going on, in that I’ve truly no idea. Well, except that “stuff” is being moved around and healed and released and so on…

Right now, we’re ostensibly focusing on healing my thyroid. But what’s coming up in my sessions is a LOT of stuff I thought I’d dealt with already and then things I didn’t even know about. Stuff within the depths of my hidden memories of childhood – you see, until I was about nine or ten, I don’t have many clear memories at all.

All of what’s coming up however, is emotional. Even/especially the stuff I don’t remember. Which is both not surprising and also blindingly “doh”!

For years, I’ve been talking about how repressed emotions cause dis-ease. It’s something I knew intuitively but I didn’t expect it would happen to me – until it did. After all, I live life with my heart on my sleeve like nobody’s business!

But it’s the secret ones – those terribly hurtful and painful stories we tell ourselves about life and our interpretations of the actions of others – those are the ones we furtively sequester and barely even admit to ourselves as thoughts, ideas or feelings that cause dozens of infinitesimal fractures in our heart.

Over the years those stories build and are built upon. They take on form and meaning that deeply wounds our Essential Nature. But because we swallowed these tiny poisonous arrows whole, we’ve never seen them for what they are. So they become infected and take down our mind and body; into imbalance, infection, disturbance, disorder, dysfunction and dis-ease.

Let me try to illustrate what I mean with one of my own stories.

Shall we being with my chronic insecurity? Born of growing up with totally dissociated/emotionally neglectful parents and a physically/verbally abusive brother. Lots of shit went down before I even turned twenty-one. Enough for a lifetime of healing. But by my mid-to-late twenties, I’d convinced myself I was done with all of that stuff! I was over it (yeah right!) and moving on. I was in the beginning of my “spiritual search” phase and I was all god-realmy with a “nothing can touch me” attitude.

Everything looked good on the surface until things started falling apart with the guy I was engaged to.

Here’s what came up in my kinesiology session – betrayal. The specific incident* was this:

From before I met my then-fiancé, I was performing as a professional belly-dancer every weekend and dancing several nights a week. Then I was injured and had to stop dancing for a while, which meant I put on a little weight. My fiancé had a real problem with this, despite the fact that he wasn’t in the best physical shape himself. When we met, he had a pot belly which he kept for our entire relationship (and beyond). I loved him anyway for his inner light, for who he was. But when I was the one putting on weight, he freaked just a little too much. In fact, one day a mutual friend of ours was visiting and while she was there he very bluntly told me that I needed to lose weight. I was humiliated and breathlessly angry. So was our friend.

Like I’ve said before, it’s a good thing I didn’t marry this charmer, eh?

The story isn’t exactly a nice one, but the thing is that it goes deeper than that. My fiancé’s words were an explosive missile direct-hit to the part of me that was – and perhaps still is to a much lesser degree – deeply insecure.

The story that’d been going around and around in my mind and body for years was this:

No one loves me for who I really am.

(Gimme a moment here folks… writing that just now had a HUGE cost attached…)

And here was solid gold “proof”: even my fiancé, the guy I thought of as my soul mate and who’d flown me halfway around the world to propose to me… even he didn’t love me for who I was. It wasn’t unconditional love. His feelings towards me began to change just because I put on a little weight!

This was the man I’d planned a thousand dreams with – our wedding, babies, our lives. How and where we’d bring up our children. The studies I’d do while I was at home with the babies. And so on.

I was confused, upset and sad. But most of all, I felt utterly betrayed. Even if I didn’t admit it to myself back then.

That hidden fissure in my heart (chronic insecurity) was put under immense pressure by this event. In fact, I’d go so far as to say it was both the beginning of the end of my engagement, and the point from which I was doomed to make increasingly bad choices about men in the future.

The ultimate bad choice in men led to being assaulted – and the rest of that story is where this blog began.

And this, folks, is what I’m unearthing in my kinesiology sessions. The deepest, darkest stories I’ve told myself about myself. Stories that cause illness of body and mind.

These secret ones.

For it’s not our easily revealed wounds that cause the most grievous injuries, but the ones we hold onto for dear life because we sincerely believe them to be true based on “evidence”.

There’s dozens of tiny stories like this that come out during each and every kinesiology session. Sometimes, I’ve no idea what they’re about – the above is just a more lucid example that I can kinda wrap my brain around. But the work is all like this…

~ / \ ~

* It’s too complicated to explain to y’all how this information is plucked from my mind and body in a kinesiology session as being THE thing to work on. But trust me, it isn’t random and it’s always spot on.

~Svasti

Weekend vignettes

Tags

Acceptance, Antarctica, dumplings, jungle gym, Kinesiology, Nieces, peace and yum cha, picks the lock, San Francisco fog, Sunday lunch, Surrender, thyroid, ultrasound

winter blossoms

More yoga, of course. Waking early enough to be there, which is actually very good for my mind. Full class, gentle but firm postures that awaken the lightness of my body. Refreshed and properly awakened, walking to the tram. Sunny but snow-tingling icy-ness with no gloves, oops.

~

A quick shower and change, a short cycle to my main drag for a less enticing experience. Why are radiologists in charge of doing ultrasounds these squat unwashed-looking men with legitimate reasons to look at my naked breasts? Squelching on that gel like its sunscreen, asking intimate questions I don’t really feel like answering. You’re not my doctor; you’re just the guy taking the pictures. No, I don’t know what’s going on exactly. My doc, she was just being thorough I suspect. Here, wipe yourself off with the gown. Cold, slimy invisible gel. Does he enjoy it, I wonder?

~

Nakedness without intimacy creates a need for comfort. Dumplings! A special treat, okay? And it didn’t cause my gut any problems, not really. With tea in a large dark brown earthenware mug (I have one of these at home). Warmth. Space to breath in a recently renovated place of peace and yum cha. Before a different kind of encounter.

~

Kerry put me onto Amanda, because she’s successfully used kinesiology to heal her own thyroid issues and those of other women, too. Another person to explain my complicated history to, because it’s still relevant. Why? Because a thyroid condition doesn’t just occur. It has a history, too: my history of abuse, sorrow, pain and fear. It’s not over, because it’s still locked in my body. But with love and determined fierceness I’m gonna heal this body one way or another.

~

Some of the same old stuff, but new things, too. What happened when I was six years old? No, I don’t know. Childhood memories are scant at best. But I cry anyway, my heart rate increases and we try to work it out but I don’t know. It’s okay, she says, and we find other ways to figure it out in pieces. I still don’t know, but she works out enough to get started. It leaves me undone. Who goes to these places? Who picks the lock on these rusted doors? No one, that’s who. Not for ages. I don’t even know the way there and back anymore. Looks like we’re going to find out though. It’s important to this process that we do.

~

(I was right about the depression, btw. But I’m coming back out of it now. It rolled in like a San Francisco fog and back out, then in periodically because I hadn’t expressed the things that needed to be said, so I could understand just how ridiculous they were. This is the power of writing. Not to be scared by what we write, but to provide that escape hatch for things grown foul and fetid.)

~

Don’t bother seeing this movie. It’s stupid, pretentious and full of wankery.

~

Winds howling their way from Antarctica to my bedroom window. There’s still never enough sleep no matter how much I get. Snuggling with the cat and a text from my sister announces my parents will be coming over for lunch today, too. A slightly hi-jacked Sunday, then (thanks to my eldest niece who can’t keep anything to herself!). I’m still undone from yesterday’s kinesiology session. A bit panicked, a little freaked out but I drag myself from under the blankets anyway.

~

Sunday paper reading while the train rattles southwards. Keeping my head down and heart in my chest where it belongs, and not jumping out of my mouth where it’d like to be. Relaxing, relaxing. There’s about forty minutes to find some acceptance and surrender. And I do.

~

Small feet running and girlish voices calling my name. Hugs and kisses and I’m a jungle gym, presented with an upside down two year old begging to be twisted and turned and somersaulted up and down the length of my body. A four year old seeing if she has the strength to give me a shoulder ride but of course, only managing to stick her head between my legs while her sister demands more “upside-downs”.

~

The two eldest niece-lings have a (natural) obsession with my breasts and I make sure they know I’m okay with that through my actions (no flinching away from their touch). There’s giggles of enjoyment as they look down my jumper or hug me or rest their hands on my ample chest. I get the two year old to look down her own top and she gives us another of her stunning one-liners: Little bit, she says. Outbreaks of hearty laughter all-round.

~

You look better every time we see you, they say. That doesn’t mean anything, I want to counter. Instead I settle for: Perhaps, but there’s still a long way to go. I’m not better yet, not by a long shot but I understand that you want me to be. I understand that… oh, never mind.

~

She’s five weeks old and every day it seems she gets cuter. Like a polished gem stone, glinting her placid perfection at us. Later, her eyes open and they’re so wide. Hello world, hello people in my life. She’s eager and beautiful and there’s so much enjoyment in simply holding her while she sleeps, and talking to her when she opens those gorgeous grey-brown eyes that are destined to end up chocolate coloured, like her sisters and daddy.

~

It’s hard to leave but I know I’ve over-stayed because I’m already weary. The wind is even more biting as the sun vanishes, but my train is mercifully quick. And quiet. Except for the people I had to move away from, discussing the merits of animal testing, because if we don’t test on animals then who are we going to test products on, they ask each other. Humans? Yes! I wanted to say. But instead I move to the other end of the carriage. Words with Friends and a little more newspaper reading until it’s my stop.

~

There hasn’t been enough time for any cooking or shopping or being prepared for Monday and I’m falling asleep while I wait for the washing machine to finish. Clothes hanging, heater on against the bone-crunching chill and cat fed. Bedtime but once again, it’s never enough.

~ Svasti

False walls and exit doors

Tags

Ayurveda, black thoughts, catch 22, Depression, eclipsed new moon, Health, injury, mayhem, PTSD, Sadness, sociopaths, surrendering, thyroid

This is a different post than the one I’d planned to share. But I’m having a hard time finding a point in a lot of my writing right now. I’m struggling. I know these feelings aren’t permanent but all of my darkest thoughts are out to play and I’ve gotta tell you folks, it’s mayhem in Svasti-land.

Tore a calf muscle earlier this week. As if my life doesn’t have enough crap in it, I was trying to run for the train and without obvious cause I could no longer walk properly. Just a twang inside my right leg and look Ma, I’m Hop-a-long Svasti In Considerably Unpleasant Pain.

Been working with an Ayurvedic practitioner in recent times to work on a more holistic approach to healing my thyroid. Ayurveda is Indian traditional medicine and it’s amazing and powerful. Apparently my due to the many imbalances in my body right now, it’s not surprising that there’s dryness in my soft tissues. Which means things like this can happen more easily.

Great. Frickin GREAT.

Friday brought the eclipsed new moon, which I felt very keenly. Its energy brought certain truths to light that I’ve been trying to ignore as best as I could: as much as I love working in the digital industry, the people I have to work with sometimes are just killing me.

People being assholes who are more interested in stroking their ego than they are in being professional, courteous, efficient and respectful. In corporate life, there are more people like this than not. I suspect half of them are sociopaths, while the others I think are just sad, lonely people who don’t know any better than to lash out at their work mates.

But it’s more than that. I’m in this catch 22 of needing the money I’m earning in order to reach my goal of being debt-free as quickly as I can. Not to mention that right now I have a lot of health-related expenses – doctors, meds, vitamins and herbs, alternative medicine consultations and now massages (for that cranky right calf of mine).

Essentially, I need to get out of this line of work but I can’t afford to just yet.

So add all of these things up – my health, a mystery injury and admitting the truth of my career situation to myself… and I’ve been feeling a little crappy this weekend.

Not that I haven’t tried to buck myself up.

Yesterday I got another massage ostensibly for my calf, but in truth my entire body aches. Not just from the strain of limping and hobbling my way through the week, but because I still carry my old shoulder injury and untold amounts of tension from PTSD.

As a yogi, I’m pretty darn bendy but regardless of that and no matter how much yoga I do, my body retains some powerful clenching abilities. So it hurts – something that should feel good and nourishing to my body, it bloody hurts.

Post-massage and before my haircut appointment (my first since the Great Hair Debacle which I haven’t written about here) I had a meal at a fabulous new cafe, only three weeks old. It has this eclectic menu including the Asian-style jook I ordered. It was great, but what really won me over was the super-large tea pot (above) that my lemongrass and ginger tea arrived in.

So I was doing what I could to make the weekend enjoyable despite my limp and those truthful truths yammering away. My new haircut made me feel so much better about looking in the mirror for the first time in ages. Which is good.

But it wasn’t enough. Black thoughts have been welling up. They smell suspiciously like depression and I’ve noticed too, how everything is a little less bright. Colours aren’t as vivid and even though I know the way out, I can’t stop myself from wandering in a little deeper. Not just yet.

Because these thoughts, they want to be heard. Even if they are the voice of depression and loss and therefore, rather unbalanced. They go a little something like this:

Life isn’t like a fairy tale. There are no prescribed, audience approved happily ever afters. Some people get lucky and others don’t. That’s just the way it is and it seems like I’m one of those people who isn’t gonna get lucky. My sister has three children now, three! My three best girlfriends are all happily married. One of them is pregnant with her second child, the other with her first and the third is in the process of trying to get pregnant. One of these women I’ve always thought of as a little sister and yet here she is, surpassing me while my own life STILL stands still. I desperately want to let other people in, to date, to have a boyfriend, but at the same time I aint letting anyone in anytime soon. I try and try and try to get past it all, to heal, to move on. But just when I think I’m getting somewhere… SURPRISE. Here, have a chronic health problem. Here, lose the ability to walk properly. And for good measure, let’s throw in a couple of egotistical assholes at my workplace, too.

Still, I can’t find a permanent job and what’s worse, I don’t even want one. Not anymore. Not this line of work and having to deal with people who are less than honest and truthful with themselves and other people. This isn’t who I am but right now I don’t have a choice, do I? EVERY TIME I think I’m closer to my goals, the goalposts move. There is no end. No hope for me. No magical shift where suddenly my health is sorted and my metabolism starts working again, I drop that extra weight and finish paying off my debts. That’s an ending from one of those stupid chick flicks I hate so much and it’s just not real.

What’s real is what’s here. I try my best. I do service work. I do what I can for others and I take pleasure in the little things whenever I can. I do. But I don’t know what it’d feel like to be free anymore. As much as I love my nieces, I really wish I’d never moved back to Melbourne. But here I am, and I’m doing what I can to leave although sometimes it feels like I never will. Not ever.

Even though the saying goes you’re never given more than you can handle, I’m utterly sick to death of being given more to handle again and again while nothing seems to change.

I truthfully don’t know what to do next. If this was a war, I’d be surrendering to the other side right about now…

~Svasti

Throwing spaghetti at the wall

Tags

autoimmune, carbohydrates, dark night of the soul, dis-ease, gluten, Hashimoto’s, hypothyroidism, Kinesiology, metabolism, PTSD, spaghetti, sugar, throwing spaghetti at the wall, thyroid

Being a poetical type, I like to think of this as the twilight time of my thyroid diagnosis. There’s a little bit of light being cast by the moon, but it is kinda hard to see on account of the growing darkness (it’s always darkest before dawn, natch).

I could go on with the clichés – dark night of the soul and all that. But hey, I’ve had several of those already and they no longer freak me out…

But I reckon it fits: this is the twilight time, the settling dusk. While I do know what’s coming (sort of), it’s gonna be a while before sunrise makes an appearance.

Saw the doctor this morning for my blood test results and yessum, I hit the hypothyroid jackpot – Hashimoto’s – which is the autoimmune version of this dis-ease.

But then apparently, most people diagnosed with hypothyroidism will have Hashimoto’s. For whatever reason, that’s just how it is.

My naturopathic-MD friend, the one who described thyroid problems an epidemic? She wasn’t wrong. At least two of my friends also have the same condition. Another friend possibly does, but she hasn’t had the tests to confirm it yet. I had a lovely Skype chat with one of these friends on the weekend. It’s good to have some love and support from someone who’s been through it all.

Right now there’s a lot to digest. And hey, I get that this isn’t cancer (at least, probably not!) but it IS a life-long illness that requires constant monitoring and careful caring for my physical, mental and emotional well-being. Which is the sort of stuff we should all be doing for ourselves anyway, and yet most of us don’t. Until we have to, which is the boat I now find myself in along with millions of others.

Where to begin? Currently, this is where I’m at…

I’ve been taking hormone tablets for a month now. I’m quite ambivalent about that, being more into natural/alternative therapies and I honestly haven’t noticed that much difference since I started them. On the other hand, I did notice a significant difference when I began my epic consumption of vitamins/minerals/amino acids.

Symptom-wise, my energy is still up and down like a yo-yo. I need LOTS of sleep and always wake up tired. Even though I need sleep, I sometimes find it hard to stay asleep for a full eight hours. If I have a busy weekend or if I’m out after work a couple of nights in a row, the next night MUST be a rest night. It’s like a car running out of petrol – I simply stop. My monthly cycle still makes me feel like I’m about to die (no exaggeration). And of course, I am still not losing weight, no matter how well I eat and take care of myself.

I didn’t even really know what to ask my doctor today, despite all the reading I’ve done in the last month. I mentioned some of the research and information I’ve discovered, but it seemed like I had to prompt her to tell me anything useful.

Apparently cutting dairy is recommended in addition to sugar and gluten – these food stuffs are considered toxic for people with Hashimoto’s (lately, I’ve begun noticing my distaste for sugary anything). I also need to be careful with my consumption of carbohydrates (which are basically sugar). All of which – with the exclusion of gluten – is stuff people do to lose weight.

Someone even commented on Twitter that as a result of these changes, I’ll be skinny. BUT. But. This isn’t necessarily the case, because the thyroid is intimately involved with the metabolism, and my thyroid is faulty. It’s going to take time and a fair bit of trial and error to figure this all out and it still doesn’t mean I’ll be “skinny” when I do.

{Confession: there’s still a part of me that hopes my Hashimoto’s isn’t “that bad”. Which is disturbingly similar to how I viewed the beginning of my (undiagnosed at the time) slide into PTSD-land. Luckily I know better now.}

However in some ways this is true: currently I only have a mild level of autoimmune antibodies – which can easily become worse without appropriate treatment. My situation is complicated because I’m also ridiculously deficient in iron, B12, and vitamin D. So my doctor thinks it’ll be six months or so before we’ve got a better view of what’s going on.

I think I get it though – she’s trying not to overwhelm me with a billion pieces of information. She wants me to make small step-changes, bit by bit. But it’s hard, because I don’t want it to take so long and I like to know everything up front.

Next up for me is to get an ultrasound for my thyroid (there’s such a thing as thyroid cancer that needs to be ruled out), and see an endocrinologist who specialises in thyroid disorders.

I’ve got a referral, a bunch of test print outs and two extra supplements to take (selenium and Activated B6). I have another referral too; for a kinesiologist who has herself had thyroid issues. Also on my team is my acupuncturist.

There are other specialists that I’m getting in touch with as well… but my budget can only take so much at any one time!

So I guess this is throw the (gluten free) spaghetti at the wall and see what sticks time. I don’t know what will work yet and until I do, I’m gonna keep throwing spaghetti, if y’know what I mean…

~ Svasti

PTSD can cause real physical health problems

Tags

adrenal exhaustion, Anxiety, auto-immune, Ayurveda, Chronic stress, Depression, dis-ease, exhaustion, game on, gluten free, gluten intolerance, Healing, Health, himoto’s thyroiditis, hypothyroidism, leaky gut, PTSD, self-nurture, Spleen, thyroid, yang energy

It’s a little challenging sometimes to get the facts of life through this thick noggin of mine. For some reason, I’ve a tendency to not believe things are real.

So this whole: yes, my body is sicker than I was aware of thing is taking some getting used to. Of course I knew I was having bouts of exhaustion, but I hadn’t associated that with anything in particular. And thyroid issues it seems, are known to be difficult to diagnose because their symptoms often appear as other things – like depression and anxiety, for starters.

I’ve no way of knowing how long this has been going on, but based on my sketchy knowledge of Ayurveda I’d say it’s been a while. The organs and glands are not the first parts of the body to break down during dis-ease, but they’re also not the last.

What’s been really impressive has been the vast amount of information I’ve gathered from Twitter, including several excellent pieces of advice.

Three of the most important things I’ve learned in the last week are:

• Chronic stress can cause adrenal exhaustion, which in turn can trigger hypothyroidism and/or the auto-immune version of hypothyroidism, called Hashimoto’s thyroiditis.
• Generally associated with thyroidism is some level of gluten intolerance and/or leaky gut.
• There is PLENTY that a person can do other than take synthetic hormones to sort out this imbalance in the body.
  Here’s one woman’s story of what she did.

Bottom line #1: If you ever had any doubt about the body and mind being one and the same, seeing PTSD translate into a very real physical illness should be all the proof you require.

Bottom line #2: Never, ever, accept the standard western medical treatment without researching other options.

So far it’s been a wild learning curve and I know there’s plenty more to come.

Right now, I’m temporarily taking synthetic hormone medication for one month because it’s part of the protocol my current doctor wants me to follow. I’m not terribly happy about this! After that, I’ll have more blood tests to work out if I’ve got plain old hypothyroidism or Hashimoto’s.

In the meanwhile, I’m also taking a small army of supplements including:

• Olive leaf extract (which I’ve been taking for ages to support my immune system)
• Fish oil (another one I’ve been taking for ages – good for joints and cholesterol)
• L-Tyrosine – this made me feel SO. MUCH. BETTER. The almost ever-constant anxiety I was experiencing, that’d flare up without much cause is now gone. Yep, GONE. This is an amino acid and it’s referred to as “neuro-transmitter support”. It is incredible!
• Liquid iron (better for absorption, and doesn’t cause constipation like the tablet form. Also includes vitamin C in the blend) – related to adrenal exhaustion
• Magnesium – to support iron absorption
• Huge doses of B12 and vitamin D – which I am deficient in right now and this is also related to adrenal exhaustion

But that’s not all. I’m working with my acupuncture guy on my spleen/yang energy – which is also connected to the thyroid. He’s gonna give me some herbs and needles to see what can be done to support my body.

AND I’ve started – somewhat fitfully – eating gluten free. I can report that the first few days my body was having a little celebration at the change in my eating habits. I felt like it was literally singing to me!

But I’ve had to work out what’s okay and not okay to eat. Obviously things like bread are totally out (unless it’s gluten-free chia bread!), but other things I’d eat occasionally like dumplings, fries (cross-contamination issues), and even most potato chips are OUT. So is blue cheese (*cries*). My breakfast cereal, which I thought was okay as it was wheat-free, just isn’t. Barley and rye also have to go, you see.

The weird thing is that after even just a few days without gluten, then slipping up with stuff I wasn’t aware of… WOW, my belly hurts! That’d also be me just double checking to see if this thing is really REAL (thick noggin, remember?).

Interestingly, I noticed that I’d been having this sort of tight, bloated pain for a while. Only I hadn’t realised before now that this was a symptom of gluten intolerance. Amazing what we put up with, isn’t it?

So mostly I’m sticking to very simple meals – fish, organic chicken, rice, steamed veggies (drizzled with tahini – YUM!) and salads. Stuff like that. I’ve found a wonderful gluten free breakfast cereal and the previously mentioned chia bread. The other thing I’m meant to do is eat smaller meals more frequently.

Basically, I’m not taking any of this lying down (see bottom line #2). I’ve already got some leads on doctors that work more holistically when it comes to thyroid issues. So once I get my test results, I’ll probably switch doctors because I want someone who knows this stuff inside out and is prepared to go further than just giving me replacement hormones!

Food, exercise, proper rest, yoga and meditation – along with the appropriate supplements etc – all appear to be the way to go.

I’m also doing some work on my self-nurture abilities: today I had an awesome “me” day! Post-yoga class, I had myself a lovely time – getting my eyebrows waxed, a massage, going to a movie, buying some lovely fruit tea, a new light for my push bike, and wandering at a leisurely pace back towards my part of the world.

Game on, people. It’s game-freakin’-on.

~Svasti