What goes up, must come down

Posted on 12/15/2017 by Amy

After school today:

Zeke: It’s so clean in here.

Me: Yeah that’s what happens when your mom doesn’t have a job anymore.

Unfortunately I can’t take all the credit for it today. It was honestly clean today because no one was home to mess up the house. It also helped that yesterday in a manic state, in addition to doing 5 miles, yoga and going to the dr I also cleaned the house from top to bottom.

The downside is that today I couldn’t get out of bed. I used to think fibromyalgia was to blame. I would overdo it one day and the next I would be miserable. I would have one good day. A day when I could conquer the world. I would think, why can’t every day be like this. I would accomplish a lot. On those days I would make great plans like signing up for my next half marathon. Yesterday I was thinking about signing up for the flying pig in the spring because I did 5 miles. I was thinking I could easily build my mileage back up since I had just down a half marathon in October.

A few months ago I joked with Dean about whether all of my half marathons were just mania induced pipe dreams and if I was just crazy when I decided to sign up and train for them. I’ve kind of always known something was wrong with me, I just hadn’t had a doctor to diagnose it. I mean who really signs up for a half marathon knowing they shouldn’t really be even running when they have arthritis so bad their joint replacement has failed? That’s crazy right? Well, that’s me! I’m fighting the urge at the moment not to create a half marathon training program as I type this.

I want more than this. I want every day to be like yesterday. I want to be able to be active, get a lot accomplished, to be social, to have my kids come home and be excited that the house is clean, that dinner is planned out and something they will actually enjoy eating. I don’t want every day to be like today.

Today I took the kids to school, attempted to drive to my dr appointment but cancelled en route because it was unsafe for me to be driving. I came home and slept for 5 hours straight. I woke up and got the kids from school, walked the dog a mile and gave up on going further because I just couldn’t today. I managed the energy and desire to clean up the kitchen, mostly because Zeke’s comment about it being clean impacted me so deeply.

We have plans tonight that I’m not sure I’ll engage in because I just don’t feel up to it. Today is a down day. It’s the polar reverse of yesterday and I hate everything about it. I have to be very intentional to get out of the funk. I slept because I literally couldn’t keep my eyes open. I didn’t sleep well last night thanks to yesterday’s mania going into the night. When the crash comes it comes hard. This is why I quit my job.

Yesterday I regretted quitting. Yesterday I thought I feel pretty decent, aside from my normal every day aches and pains. I got in exercise & got a lot done. I thought if every day feels this good there’s hope. But the truth is there’s not a guarantee of what tomorrow holds. With bi-polar tomorrow is unknown. Tomorrow could be another up day or it could all come crashing down. I had two really good days. Today was a bad day. I’m praying a good day is on the way.

Earlier today I looked out the window and there were at least 50 birds in the back yard. It was my reminder that just like those birds, no matter what today holds for me, my God is providing for me. I don’t know what they were out there seeking – but they were finding it in my backyard. I know that this is just where He has me planted for now and it’s where I’ll be content even if the day doesn’t always go as I planned.

For now, I will keep being present and doing what I can to manage in the moment. Sometimes it’s all you can do. Today was a reminder that this journey will have ups and downs. My prayer is that the downs are less frequent than the ups.

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Blind Spots

Posted on 12/14/2017 by Amy

You can’t lie to a massage therapist. You can tell him you didn’t eat that extra cookie after dinner last week, but your thighs don’t lie. You can tell him you aren’t stressed out over your in laws coming over for the holidays but the tension he feels in your neck tells him a different story. You may wear flats to your appointment, but the callouses on your feet show him that you wear high heels all day long. You can’t hide the bruises, the scars from past injuries, the cellulite – he sees it all.

Today I had the pleasure of enjoying an hour long massage thanks to a gift from a friend. It was just what I needed to relax and to ease my muscles. But I couldn’t help laying there and think that this stranger was going over parts of my body that my husband hasn’t even touched in a while. There’s nothing wrong with that, I would prefer people not to be touching my feet thank you!

We all have blind spots in our life. The parts of us we don’t want others to see, and those we try to hide from others. Yesterday I shared a big one that I could chose to hide from the world. One I’m choosing not to hide from. Today I chose to fight against it.

My life is a work in progress. Whenever you start the process of creating something new, there’s potential for messiness. I admit right now my work zone is messy. The canvas of my life has been a disaster for years, I’m sure you were nice enough not to mention it, but I’m not willing to gloss over it anymore. I know it’s going to take a lot of work to become the best version of myself. It won’t be easy. I know that on the other side of this mess, things will be better.

Today that meant doing a little yoga, going for a 5 mile walk with my favorite four pawed friend, and opening my heart in counseling with my husband. We learned a lot about what living with bi-polar means and it gave me hope. For 38 years I’ve struggled to cope with symptoms of a broken mind and body on my own. We’re slowly learning how to cope in healthier ways with this new information. I feel like I’ve been given a new  lease on life. It’s almost like I’ve been handed an owner’s manual to an appliance I bought 38 years ago – me! 

For the last 4 years I have tried through the use of healthy eating and exercise to manage and it wasn’t enough, because we weren’t fighting the right demon. We now can target our arrows in the right direction, take aim and ideally land them where they belong. I prayed for answers and while this is not the answer I ever expected, you can’t always get what you want. I’m grateful for a newfound hope and a supportive husband who never gave up on me despite the mess.

My goal now is to discover what works best for me and to be willing to be open to let others join me on my journey. I know that life is best when done with those who care for you. So thanks for joining me on this journey. I guarantee the view won’t always be pretty, but struggling in silence helps no one. When I share my story with others, and you yours, the world becomes a little less scary and we all start to look a little more normal.

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Reversing Polarity

Posted on 12/13/2017 by Amy

It’s crazy cold outside. If you told me when I was younger that I would one day enjoy going for a run in 20 degree weather by myself let alone with a dog I would think you were crazy. You see we never grew up with a pet in our home. The only things I remember about pets were negative in my childhood. My hermit crabs died, I vaguely remember something about their cage being cleaned and the cleaners being what did them in. I vaguely remember stories about having a dog when we were young who ate holes in the walls. For most of my childhood, pets were nonexistent. I wanted my kids to have a different memory of their own childhood.

We have tried guinea pigs and dogs. But I never loved a dog as much as I have til Ozzy. I think it has a lot to with how much I need stability and how much I need someone to force me to get moving every day. There’s no denying Ozzy gets me moving every day. There’s no excuses, not even 20 degree temperatures with this guy. He loves the outdoors, and it turns out so do I. I just didn’t know it.

I’m learning there’s a lot about myself I didn’t know or understand that in hindsight was there all along. For example, this week someone asked me when the last time I felt healthy was. I laughed, because I honestly can’t remember. I answered it was probably 20 years ago. They followed up with asking what happened 20 years ago that made the cycle of unhealthiness begin, I again laughed and joked I fell in love and got married. But the the truth is if I am honest, the unhealthiness was there long before that.

I remember as a child falling and having to use crutches. I remember having to quit soccer because my ankles and knees swelled for no good reason. I remember getting sick after family gatherings. I remember countless doctor’s visits where my mom told them I had an upset stomach and the dr saying they couldn’t find anything in the stool samples they made us do. In hindsight, I wish we knew then what we know now. If we knew about food allergies. If we knew about my muscle issues. If we knew about my electrolyte issues that causes me to have chronic low potassium. If we knew I am bi-polar.

You see two weeks ago I was finally diagnosed as crazy. Certifiable, lock me up for a few days in the hospital to keep me safe from myself crazy. It was the lowest time in my life. It will also be the most life changing time in my life.

No more denying that I can do this on my own. No more pretending I can struggle through another day without help. No more pressure to be perfect. Validation that I am crazy, but it’s a legitimate craziness stirring in my mind that’s been making my life a living hell and not some random unknown lurking danger that can’t be fixed. There is hope. 

Today I am beginning a new journey to wholeness. I’ve resigned from my job so I can spend more time focusing on my physical and mental health. My goal is to return to a place of holistic health where I am thriving and ready to return to the workplace, stronger, smarter, and better equipped to serve others. For now I am not able to be my best self and my family has suffered as a result. We have been struggling for some time under the weight of my illness and the impact has even reached outside the 4 walls of our home. We appreciate the love and support of those who have been walking beside us so closely these last few weeks and hope some of you will join us as we move forward.

I hope to share my journey more publicly as I process what living and thriving with mental illness looks like. I believe it’s an issue society doesn’t address well enough as many struggle in silence. Today I start my journey out of the darkness on the road that leads to reversing the polarity of my mind.

 

 

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Out of the Darkness

Posted on 10/20/2017 by Amy

There are days when I simply can’t find the words, I often find myself deeply sighing as I try to go through the motions. I can remember exactly when the sighs first started and I pray every day for the peace to make them stop.

At the end of the suicide awareness walk last weekend, there was an illuminated path where family and friends had left notes in honor of those they loved who lost the battle or who are still fighting depression and suicidal thoughts. It was heartbreaking. At the Out of the Darkness event I walked hand in hand with my husband, knowing if I hadn’t sought help he may have been walking the journey alone. I looked on as two of my sons were nearby and was grateful that I was able to be there with them.

A few months ago I told Dean that I was worried. I told him the first time it happened. I was on a long walk along the Miami River. I thought that if I walked out into the water, I could disappear forever and no one would care. Around the same time as I was driving to work I considered driving my car into a tree. The only reason I didn’t that day was because I knew it would be my luck I would survive and end up living a life of more daily pain.

At first he didn’t understand how serious I was when I told him. He didn’t know these were more than passing thoughts. I truly felt hopeless, alone and was done fighting. Years of physical pain, heartbreak, trauma and depression had taken their toll. I was alone on the journey and knew I couldn’t keep doing it anymore. I asked him to help me. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t realize how bad it was. After 19 years together, he had watched me overcome so much and hide my pain so well he didn’t know how severely I was suffering.

I eventually confided in my closest friends and my Dr. I am healing, and we realized the suicidal thoughts were caused from a bad cocktail of meds my doctors had me on. I still battle depression, but after stopping those medicines I can again think clearly and see through the pain. It’s still there, but there is a light that wasn’t before.

When my cousin committed suicide we were all in shock. I no longer question how she could have made the choice she did. I have fought my demons and while I don’t know what hers were, I know she is one reason I choose to keep fighting.

I think about how I repeatedly asked others to help me and no one understood. If I wasn’t my own advocate I know I wouldn’t be typing this today. I don’t want sympathy. I have learned how alone I am on this journey and accepted that others can’t deal with my mess.

I want others to know that while it may be easier to suffer in silence, it’s not going to help you find healing. I want to encourage others to reach out for help, even if it takes countless attempts to find the right person to take you seriously. Don’t give up on yourself, even if other people do. What I want to do, as always, is to remind those who might be struggling that you are never truly alone. To not give up, to fight for yourself even if no one else will. You are worth it.

Breathe deep. Inhale. Exhale. Be grateful for the chance to try again.

Every day is a new opportunity to seek out the light, even if we wake up in the darkness.

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Queen of a broken heart

Posted on 10/7/2017 by Amy

The last time I did the queen bee was in 2014. I was at my healthiest – my lowest adult weight after losing over 90 lbs, able to run and was having mostly painfree days. I had recently graduated college and life was going well. Dean & I had recently overcome some difficulty in our marriage, but we were at a point where things were turning around.

Since then, I’ve struggled with countless health setbacks and the stress of it all has taken a toll on every area of my life. I’ve gained some weight back due to those issues, but have been able to maintain a little more than 50 lbs lost since my heaviest. The last few months have been extremely difficult – physically, emotionally and mentally. I’ve cut back on my hours at work to be able to focus on healing in all areas of my life, out of necessity not laziness or because we can afford it. I’ve been reaching out for additional support and it’s been exhausting, but I know it’s needed.

As I’ve tried to survive the last few months on my own, it became evident I couldn’t do it alone. I was going through the motions every day but that was all. While I have been training for a half marathon, I found very little joy in what I was doing. In the past I enjoyed going out and training. I would enjoy time spent outdoors on the trails. Recently I have had no joy, in any area of my life. I kept pushing myself to continue doing the daily things like walking, training and trying to participate in my family’s life but it wasn’t helping. I was still feeling lost and stuck in a hopeless place.

With the help of our newfound friend, Ozzy, I have been prompted every morning to get out of bed. If it weren’t for him, I can’t say I would make that choice every day. I am grateful that I had the insight after grieving Ginger to know that I needed that kind of the help every day. Thanks to his help, I have consistently trained for today’s race. So today, I got up and anxiously laced up my shoes. I was in pain before my feet hit the floor. I knew it was going to be a difficult day, doing a half marathon or otherwise. I was thankful I had prepped my gear last night, otherwise I don’t know that I would have made it out the door at all today. I was running late and due to lines at the port-a-potties I actually was one of the last half marathoners to start. I didn’t realize the other participants waiting behind in the corral were waiting for the 4 mile event to start. I finally asked one of them why their bib was a different color and unfortunately without pre-race stretching headed off to the start line and up the first hill of the race.

For me, the first two miles of any race or training are always painful, with or without a warm up. This race is even more difficult as it literally is 2 miles uphill from the start. I was surprised at how well I did on the hills considering, cardio wasn’t my issue as much my leg pain that started before the race even began.

After that it was pretty much smooth sailing for a while. I even went pretty fast for a bit, aside from bathroom breaks. (My garmin clocked one of my miles as 12:22/mile – and that was just walking!) I ran into Dean around mile 9. This in itself meant more than you can know. We’re again in a tough place. Chronic illness, depression and our past issues can take a toll on any relationship. Our relationship is no different. Knowing he took time out of his day to be there meant a lot.

Miles 10-13 were very difficult. I was grateful to have run into some familiar faces along that portion of the course. It made a huge difference. I finished just a few seconds under my goal. I was really hoping to do better time wise than I did, but considering how my morning started and the need for frequent restroom breaks due to stomach issues it was amazing I even met my time goal at all.

I had a ton of valid reasons not to do a half marathon, today or ever. My body has real limitations. I am reminded of this daily. It’s for these reasons I fight every day to keep moving. It’s for these reasons I strive to push past those limits.  I finished the half marathon today for these and other reasons. This week in particular because I’m choosing to fight for my life, health and happiness during a time when things feel particularly hopeless.

Every step I took today was me choosing to put one foot in front of the other. I daily have to make that choice, and while it may not seem like a hard decision to make – if you were to walk a day in my shoes you might understand just how hard it is. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, not even myself most days. I fight through the pain, sadness and anger of having to try so hard to overcome what seems so easy to others because the only other choice is giving up – and that should never be an option. I could give more than 13 reasons why, but today I walked my 13.1 in honor of the countless reasons why I choose life, today and every day despite the pain.

Join me on October 15th to support those, like myself, who are impacted by mental illness and have either lost family members or friends to suicide or struggle with the daily fight to overcome the negative voices every day so they have the hope they need to never give up! Help us bring light to this important issue. You can donate online if you can’t participate in the walk. (I started a team called “Better together” or you can join as an individual if you want to walk, or you can just donate. There is no “fee” to join the walk other than the donation which is any amount you choose to give).

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Dressed for success

Posted on 4/26/2017 by Amy

I used to envy the moms who wore yoga pants at school pick up. You know the ones. The skinny moms. The fit moms. The moms who always looked so put together all the time, yet still pulled off wearing yoga pants. I used to long to be one of those moms.

Then I lost a ton of weight and got a job that allows me to wear yoga pants to work. It’s a great perk, except for when you gain weight due to sickness and you can’t quite pull off the look so well anymore. So, lately I’ve been going to my closet in search of something that hides the extra pounds that I can’t seem to get rid of despite exercising and eating well.

Every time I wear something other than yoga pants to work it has a negative side effect. It gets me unwanted attention. People assume I’m dressed up for a reason and want to know why. I hate having to lie, so I admit the truth to a coworker. Another person I told a half truth, it’s easier to just grab a dress than have to color coordinate an outfit.

There’s another secret my daily outfit usually tells. Chances are if it’s a non-yoga pants day, I probably am hiding more than extra pounds. Chances are I woke up in a lot of pain. Thus it truly is easier to grab a dress off a hanger and slide it on then wrestle with pants and a shirt and multiple items.

I’ve said it before and I will say it again, one of the easiest coping mechanisms I’ve found for waking up on a high pain day is by proving I can at least look good despite how I feel. The secrets out. If I am dressed up, in something other than yoga pants or jeans, it’s likely a sign I feel pretty miserable on the inside. I do this to help myself at least feel better with how I look on the outside. This is partly for others, but it also helps me mentally take control of how my day starts. Instead of struggling with my outfit, I can choose something that makes me look nice and is comfortable. Typically this means I get to accessorize more than if I just wore yoga pants and running shoes, again the more bling the more positive energy I bring
to my day. I need all the positivity I can get!

I am not a girly girl, but I have a few things I use to brighten my day and a good coat of nail polish, lipstick, or a cute bracelet usually help bring a smile to my face.

 

Top it off with a good hair day and I’m set. So now you know, if I’m looking more put together than normal, I might feel well and maybe I had more energy to invest in getting ready; but the opposite is more likely.

 

I’ve found over the years that instead of giving in to the negative feelings I have to find ways to combat them. These little tricks help me start my day in a way that boosts my mood, and sometimes it helps get me out the door and on my way.

Today was a high pain day, but I conquered it. I started it with a little self-love in the form of a coat of fresh nail polish and ended it by replacing my cute flip flops with running shoes so I could walk off the negative voices that were leftover from my day. I’m still in pain and I look a little worse for wear, but I did it. I put one foot in front of the other and thanks to a few good coping mechanisms I survived another day.

Praying tomorrow’s a better day.

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Nevertheless she persisted…

Posted on 4/24/2017 by Amy

Last year I signed up for the Brokemans Half marathon.  At the time I was healthy, well healthy for me. At that time I had recently completed a half marathon and was inspired that I could keep up that distance over the months in between.

Life happened. I got pneumonia. Several times. I gained weight from repeated doses of steroids for pneumonia and upper respiratory infections. More recently I had surgery and that was the final deciding factor that a half marathon was completely not doable right now. Last week I convinced myself I could do 4 miles. I had been keeping up my mileage, at least walking 2-3 miles a couple times a week. I had started testing out running intervals again, but it was very slow going and every day was dependent on how I felt that day whether or not I tried or just was content with being out of bed and able to walk through my illness.

Two days before race day I decided I couldn’t do it. I attempted to run and it went poorly. I was sick again and was in a lot pain. I was upset and frustrated that I couldn’t beat this, that was Friday.

I woke up on Saturday with a fire in my belly. I was angry. I was angry I was allowing my body to set my course. I was angry I was being limited by an invisible demon. I was angry I was giving up. I was determined to fight for my health. I know I am happiest when I’m on the trail. I know I’m content when I’m giving it my all, even if it hurts. I know even if there are tears along the way, every step is worth it because I am in control. That in those moments, even when it may not feel like it, I am winning the battle.

So I went to bed late Saturday with voices telling me I couldn’t do it. Voices that said it will be too cold that I should just sleep in. Voices that said I stayed up too late and I probably just shouldn’t bother trying. Voices that said I was too sick to do it. Voices that said I was going to make myself sicker by doing the race. Voices that told me I wasn’t good enough to be at the race with other runners. Voices that said I wasn’t healthy enough to be in a race. Voices that said I was too weak. Voices that said others would judge me when they saw me walking the entire race because I couldn’t keep up. Fear that made me worry about talking to other runners because I didn’t want them to find out I was voiceless and try to convince me I shouldn’t be out there with them. Fear that said what if something happened on the course and Dean wasn’t around and I was voiceless and couldn’t communicate my name or any of my health information to the medical team?

These were the voices that kept me up late into the night. These were the voices I rejected as I woke at 6 am and laid in bed for 40 minutes until finally I decided to quickly get ready to head out the very last minute to leave for the race. I arrived 10 minutes before my event was to start, leaving me just enough time to pee and get to the start line. Which means I avoided talking to anyone and was able to quell any worry of anyone finding out how sick I was at the start of the race.

No one knew I took pain pills before and after the race. No one knew I needed my inhaler to make sure I could breathe afterward. No one knew I was in unbearable pain for the first 1.5 miles, even though I was just walking.

What happened after those painful first few miles? I cried. I caught a glimpse of the sun through the trees. I let go of the fears. I let go of the pain. I let go of the worry. I just put one foot in front of the other and took in the beauty all around me. I worshiped along with the music I was listening to on my headphones.

I eventually started doing run/walk intervals. The pain subsided. For 2 miles there was bliss. Pure, heavenly, painfree, peace. It was short lived and replaced by other issues but for a brief period of time I experienced the one thing I can only find when I run. I don’t know why it happens or why it only happens sometimes. But sometimes, when I run I feel good. Really good. It doesn’t usually last and the aftermath is usually pretty bad, but for the brevity of it, it’s almost always worth it.

So it was worth it. I will keep fighting. I don’t know what’s wrong with my body and accept that I may never know. But I know that for me running or run/walking is the one way that I can escape it, even if briefly and not even always consistently. Some days I can barely get out of bed. Other days I can run with no pain. It makes no sense. There’s no rhyme or reason to it.

But yesterday, for a little while, I saw a glimpse of glory and I am grateful for it. I will keep fighting for those moments. Even if it means there will be pain and tears along the way, the reward is worthwhile.

 

24 Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. 25 Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.26 Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. 27 No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize. (1 Corinthians 9:24-27)

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