Silently Struggling

I've been struggling silently for months. 

My husband & my best friend didn't even know how bad it had gotten. My whole life I've tried so hard to be 'normal' & put on a happy face so people would like me, and I wouldn't be a burden to anyone.
For 16 years I had tried so hard to hide my illness from most people, only letting in those that I was really close to.
Even after being open about my illness 2.5 years ago (on this same blog), I've still tried so hard to be and pretend to be 'okay'.
In March I started to really struggle with life in general. I wasn't able to cope as well as I was trying to lead on. I kept putting on that smile that says 'I'm ok'. I occasionally reached out to close friends and family. Kept thinking that if I just tried really hard and kept pretending things were ok, they eventually would be. 
May 6, 2017 my dear Father in law passed away unexpectedly. He was a father to me for 11 years. He was the only person in my life during a very hard couple of years that NEVER judged me. He was the only person to make me feel completely loved during this time, even when I didn't feel I deserved love at all. He really was one of the most amazing people I have ever been blessed to not only know, but grow extremely close to. He really was my Dad. We often talked about our struggles, worries, Fun times, the newest gadgets, & everything in between. Between October & December we e-mailed A LOT. He cared so much for his grandkids and wanted to give them a magical Christmas every year. A few years ago we started e-mailing Amazon lists back and forth. He joked with me that I got him hooked on one of the best secrets- Amazon Prime. Every time I saw him he would tell me about something new he found on Amazon that he no longer had to go to the store for. He just had so much excitement for everything. He taught me to have fun and love life. There will always be a hole in my heart that cannot be filled. 
To say that I was and am heartbroken is a giant understatement. I had no idea it was possible to feel so much pain and to grieve so hard. People say with time it gets easier. I'm waiting for that time to come...

Just a week after this terrible time, Amelie and Sophia started ABA therapy. They & we as a family have been struggling for a long time with their Autism/Aspergers. To most, they seem 'normal'. It isn't until you spend real time with them on a daily basis that you see the whole picture. 
The ABA therapy had me driving 8-10 hours a week. I was just trying to get through each crazy, busy day & still give the kids a good summer.
The driving quickly became overwhelmingly exhausting. I just kept trying to push through all the pain and exhaustion.
I had lost interest in everything I loved.
June 21, 2017 it all finally caught up to me and exploded in my face, turning into a deep, dark, scary low.

Many can't understand 'how' a person can be suicidal. I don't know if it's something that anyone can truly understand unless they've been there. It's not something I would ever wish on anyone.

It's something that for so long I was embarrassed of. How could I be so WEAK? How could I be so SELFISH? WHY would I ever want to take my life? I wish so badly that I could explain how my brain works when I get into that deep of darkness. It's so scary and painful & takes over to the point that I don't even feel like I am me anymore. Like someone else is controlling my thoughts and actions.

I also don't know how to explain how I was able to redirect my thoughts long enough to get help. Losing my uncle to suicide when I was 6 years old still feels awful and I miss him every day. The only thought I remember having before I got help was 'You can't do that to your kids'.

I feel awful for anyone that has ever lost someone to suicide. In my opinion and personal experience, it truly is the mental illness that is taking lives, not the person 'taking their own life'.

June 22nd I checked myself into the University of Utah Nueropsychiatric Institute (UNI). 

With extreme med changes & lots of daily counseling and therapy groups I was able to come home July 3rd. I wish I could say that things are back to 'normal'. They are not and I don't know if they ever will be, but I am stable right now and hopeful for the future.

Unfortunately, the meds they put me on that are keeping me stable also have me a little sedated making me extremely tired and dizzy all day, with my familial tremor more present than ever before. I told Kodi that I feel like I have dementia or something. I'm forgetting a lot more than normal for me and have been asking a lot of questions repeatedly. This is not the quality of life I would have hoped for, but if it means I'm alive and stable, I'll take what I can get. 

Finding a good psychiatrist again is very key right now. Someone that can hopefully help me manage life with some other meds that aren't quite as debilitating.

I don't share all of this in hopes of pity from anyone. But I do feel that it is important that I don't pretend anymore. If I had diabetes I would be open about it with people and how it affects my life, and the adjustments I would have to make.

Mental illness shouldn't be any different & I hope to continue to raise awareness for such a scary disease and help others be aware of the help that is out there, and also hopefully help people to not be afraid of something they don't understand.

If you are curious about mental illness, search! There are so many amazing articles out there to help loved ones try to understand a little better why someone that is mentally ill is that way..

If you are suffering with mental illness, seek help. Don't try to fight it alone. It's a lonely battle that shouldn't have to be fought alone. If you feel no-one cares or understands, there are support groups through NAMI with plenty of people who do care and do understand. 

If you are struggling and feel hopeless or unsafe there are 2 numbers I recommend. The warm line 

Warm Line 801-587-1055

for when you don't know where to turn and need someone to talk to, and the crisis line for when you just can't endure any longer. PLEASE reach out. 

CrisisLine 801-587-3000

I have now been in UNI 4 times. I was ashamed of this until right before I left. One of the kind staff members said "You are so strong to come back. Don't ever think coming here again makes you weak.'

LOVE & HOPE

I keep feeling like I'm supposed to write this post. I'm not sure why. Maybe I need more healing than I'll willingly accept and writing it all down will help. Maybe it will help someone out there to not be ashamed of whatever they have or are going through, whatever it may be. I don't know. But when I get this feeling that I need to share part of my story I just can't ignore it. It is so hard to write most of these things as it may cause some to judge me as 'crazy' or 'unstable', but in the end I know that the people who truly love me, love me no matter what I'm going through or what is a part of me, Mental Illness and all. Please bare with me in my poor grammar ;)

Last December was one of the hardest times in my life thus far. Backing up... Life was finally feeling great. I had a loving husband and kids who were enjoying life along side me. We lived in a (small but wonderful) home that we loved and will always cherish the time we lived there. I was breaking out of my shell, telling my story more to try and help other people. I was eating healthy again. Feeling great about myself inside and out. All were huge accomplishments for me.
Then early November things started to change. I was getting depressed more often than 'normal' than I had in the few months beforehand. I wasn't enjoying life anymore. AT. ALL. I was struggling to find a reason for anything. "Why try anymore?" "Why put on a happy face when I'm dying inside?" were just some of the thoughts I had on a daily basis. They continued to get worse.
Then in early December it all exploded. My whole world was turned upside down. I wasn't me. I had never been this way. I was beginning to be paranoid about everything around me. I found mouse droppings in several places in our home day after day. I started hearing the mice in the ceiling in our bedroom at night. I started having these thoughts that the mice were everywhere in the walls. That one was going to run in front of me at any moment. I was completely consumed by the thoughts in my head about being scared of the mice. I have always had a very horrible phobia of mice, but this was different than ever before. They were taking over my mind and my life entirely. I couldn't go to bed unless Kodi was right there with me, holding me, comforting me. I couldn't go to the bathroom at night because I couldn't walk on the floor in fear of a mouse crawling over my feet. During the day I had to wear shoes at all times while in my home in fear of a mouse crawling on my feet. The time I was spending in my own home was quickly becoming less and less. I would find any excuse I could to go anywhere but my house. I went to a dear and amazingly loving and understanding friend's house almost every day. When I wasn't at her house I was at my Mom's house, the Library, wandering stores without even buying anything. I was literally anywhere but home until Kodi would get home from work. I could only (barely) handle being at home if Kodi was there. Most days Kodi would come home to me crying on my bed in fear of my mind and the shell of a person I was becoming. I was not the mother that I wish I could have been at this time. I tried the best I could to shelter the girls from what was really going on inside of me. When they would ask "Mommy, why are you so sad, why are you crying? I love you Mommy." I would tell them "Mommy is just sick right now. I'm trying to get better. Mommy loves you. Everything will be okay." This was one of the hardest things about it all. Watching my sweet little girls sad for me every day, wondering what they could do to make it better. Another hard part was watching Kodi fall apart with me, constantly asking what he could do to help me. Constantly feeling like he had no idea what to do.
Because of the extreme paranoia concerning the mice I was lucky if I got even 3-4 hours of sleep at night. One night, I couldn't get to sleep. I laid in bed for hours listening to uplifting music, conference talks, guided meditation. NOTHING would make the thoughts in my mind go away. I was crying and crying and crying and finally I just couldn't take it anymore. I called my Mom at what was probably 4 AM and asked in tears if I could please come to her house. I had to get away from my house. I felt as though I was literally going 'crazy'.
When I got to my Mom's house I was shaking and just a complete mess. After more crying and comforting hugs and prayer with my mom, I was finally able to fall asleep listening to music.
I woke up determined that I was not going to be like this forever. I immediately called UNI crisis services. They asked me several questions and determined that if I was willing it would be in my best interest to go to UNI and get an assessment. After the assessment they told me they would like to admit me if I was willing to get treatment for whatever was going on. I had been to UNI 2 other times and knew that out of anywhere in the whole world this was the best place I could and should be to get the help I so needed.
After meeting with several doctors and finally finding a good team of Doctors to help me, I felt a little comfort but was still struggling to be by myself. I was very grateful to have a (quiet) roommate to be in the same room with me at night. The first night after being admitted to a mental health facility is in my experience a blur. The next day I didn't remember where I was until I came out of my room and was greeted by the wonderful tech staff there. I immediately went to group therapy. I knew if I was going to get better I needed to throw myself into and take advantage of every group and help accessible while in the hospital.
The first few days there was no progress. It was mostly a lot of starting and adjusting meds to get me to a somewhat stable state of mind. After a few days of being on a very high dose of a very potent medication (along with a couple others) I was able to think a little more clearly. This medication definitely did what it was supposed to but I hope to never be on it again. Weight gain is one of the unfortunate side effects of this medication. In 2 weeks I gained 20 lbs.
Upon having a real visit with my team of doctors it was decided that I needed to undergo some testing to figure out what was really going on inside of me.
When they presented the test results to me I was shocked, scared, ashamed and feeling hopeless. They said I had and was coming out of psychosis. They also told me of a couple new mental illnesses I was likely to suffering from and would possibly forever because of this severe mental breakdown. More!? More!? How could I possibly lead any sort of a 'normal' life with MORE mental illnesses? I was already dealing with anxiety, depression, & Bipolar disorder. As they listed off BPD, PTSD & a couple others I was in a state of shock. I just sat there with no reaction. Not believing what I was hearing. Not accepting that this could be my new life possibly forever. How would I tell Kodi that he was going to be dealing with even more of a difficult life with an even more 'crazy' wife? How could I ever explain to anyone why I sometimes act the way I do? How could I explain that there was something else 'wrong' with me?
I started to shut down. I stopped going to group. I stopped eating. I stayed in my room most of the day except for the mandatory meetings with my Doctors. What was the point of trying to get 'better' when there would be no such thing as 'better'?
Then something happened. I know it sounds odd, but I made a couple of friends in the hospital. People that truly understood what I was going through. People that were showing signs of getting better. Little by little I was gaining more hope. At this point I had been in the hospital for a week. My doctors had to fight with my insurance to assure them that yes I REALLY did still need to be in the hospital, even though the insurance's policy usually only covered a 7 day stay. I was blessed with Doctors who won. I would be able to continue treatment.
I started going to group again. I threw myself into it all with the desire to get better and eventually go home to be with my family again.
After lots of hard work in group and personal therapy, many medication changes and adjustments my doctors told me they thought I was ready to go home. WAIT! WHAT!? NO!? I'm not ready. I can't survive in the real world yet. What will I do when I fall apart again?
I didn't realize until my therapist explained to me all of the tools I had with me now. All of the things I had learned while there that I could apply into my life just as I had while in the hospital. I COULD do this. I was scared beyond all reason, but I had hope that through continued outpatient therapy, support from family and friends, and most of all prayer and staying close to my Heavenly Father above that I could do this. I could eventually have a 'normal' life again.
After being in UNI for 2 weeks I was discharged into my family's care. I was to be surrounded by people at all times for support and help with the girls for the next few months. The first month I had lots of outside help. Then it slowly dwindled, but I still had some help :) I was in a very fragile state and constantly worried about some unknown, random thing setting me off and putting me into another breakdown.
I slowly became more stable and my meds were continually adjusted. By February I was feeling like I could handle life a day at a time, but that I needed to continue to limit my activities and responsibilities. That's when, boom, we decided it was time to sell our house. I just couldn't be in that house anymore. It was too hard to think about all that I had been through there. And Kodi had been itching to move for quite some time anyway and also felt it was time to move.
It was kind of what I needed, even though I didn't realize it until much later. I had something I had to devote a lot of time to. Something to get lost in and not think about the things that made life hard at the moment. I got the house ready to sell faster than I thought was possible. We listed the house and in less than a day we had a showing. We then had several more. After 2 days we had an offer. Then 2 days later another, better offer. In less than a week from the day we listed the house we had accepted an offer and started the process of finalizing things to officially sell our house.
We couldn't find anywhere to rent with such short notice. My parents so kindly offered to let us stay with them while our house was being built. Oh ya, I didn't mention that part... Through all of this we (Kodi ;) had also decided that we would not just buy another house but have one built. This was daunting to me. I was so scared. Change is not something I've ever dealt with very well. Along the whole process of it all I just kept trusting in Kodi's promptings that this was what we were supposed to do. In late March I was in a depressive state that I just could not get out of. More medication adjustments. More therapy sessions. Nothing was helping. Life just wasn't working. Kodi and my mom so lovingly agreed that it would be best for me to take a 'break' from life. I called my Grandmother who lives in the middle of nowhere in a tiny town in Maryland and asked if I could stay with her for a couple weeks. She said 'of course!' Those weeks were amazing. I was able to relax and slowly come out of my intense depressive state. I am so grateful to my amazing, loving Grandma and the time I spent with her and the memories that were made that I never had a chance to make with her as a child since she lived so far away. I had hope again. Things were still hard when I got home. Most days were a struggle. I had to take more medications than I wanted to in order to get through each day. But I wasn't so depressed that I couldn't function and take care of my children like I hadn't been able to before. Months passed, our house was finally done. Life was looking up. Life continued to get better and better. Still had hard days, but nothing like before.

So hear I am, almost a year after going into psychosis & being hospitalized. Life is not always what I wish it could be. But I have more good days than bad right now. I'll take it. That's a blessing to me. I remind myself every day of how blessed I am. I have an amazing, loving husband who stands by my side no matter what, through thick and thin. I have 3 beautiful daughters that I have the privilege of being their Mommy and getting so much love from them. I have friends and family members that love me and remind me all the time that it's all going to be ok. I have the church and Heavenly Father that are my rock and continue to give me hope. I have modern medicine by my side to help me manage my mental illnesses every day. I have a wonderful therapist that helps me continue to work through it all. I could list many more things that I am blessed with but I'll stop there since this post is already such a novel ;)

Am I posting this all in hopes that people will pity or feel bad for me? NO. Please don't feel bad for me. I am learning to be grateful for the trials I face. Each one makes me stronger. Each one gives me more empathy for others. Each one helps me to not be so quick to judge others and their shortcomings.
We don't know what others are really going through. We need to be loving and kind to all. We need to respect others. We need to stop judging others just because they are different than we are or because they don't understand our trials.
Really, we just need to have more and show more LOVE for ALL.

I realize this post is somewhat random and all over the place, but I hope that one day it might possibly, just maybe give hope to someone out there. I don't claim to understand other people's trials or claim to have it worse than anyone else. I wouldn't trade my trials for anyone else's. I don't think anyone would. But I hope this post has shown that even through hard trials it is possible to keep having hope and that just maybe things will get better :)

< Reach Out >

It is with great hesitation that I type this post..
For the past 3 months, ever since the passing of Robin Williams, I have had this little nagging thought in the back of my mind that I need to share a little bit more of my 'story'. Robin Williams death was extremely difficult for me. Odd, I know. It's not like he was my friend, or that we'd ever even met. I also was not an overly obsessed fan of his or anything either. His death just hits way too close to home for me I guess. So, here I am, 3 months after his passing, full of emotion, ready (although with hesitation) to really share my story. Bear with me as I am in no way a grammatical/English language genius. In fact, far from it...

At 10 years old I was diagnosed with Anxiety. Unbeknownst to myself or my parents, I had actually been having anxiety attacks for years. We just didn't realize that's what my little 'episodes' were. My mom took me to the Dr. for something totally unrelated. I was constantly having to pee. Like 10 times a day. After ruling out obvious things, like a UTI, the Dr. asked more questions. After lots of questions, he, with great concern told my Mom and I that he believed I was suffering from Anxiety. He immediately prescribed Paxil. After a couple of months, I began having really scary thoughts of not wanting to deal with life anymore, which progressed to full on suicidal thoughts by age 12. At this point, I was taken to a psychiatrist that was recommended by a close relative. He had me slowly go off of Paxil, and try other medications. I was then diagnosed with depression, possibly triggered by the Paxil. For 10 years, I was on one medication or another, in hopes of making life a little more bearable.

The anxiety and depression just kept building on each other, making life miserable at times. Some days were better than others. Sometimes I was lucky enough to go a couple weeks feeling 'normal'. I was living each day in fear of the next. Over many years, I made some choices that I was not always proud of, but in the end taught me some amazing truths about life. Most of these choices I made, I eventually learned were possibly fueled by my later diagnoses of 'Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder with Seasonal Affective Disorder.'

3 years ago, everything changed, again. After struggling immensely with depression that I didn't think I could overcome, I checked myself into a mental health facility. [That's probably the hardest sentence I've ever typed.] I was struggling so badly that I just really did not think I could go on any longer. A feeling I've felt many times in my life, but this being the second time ever feeling it so severely.  While under the care of many Doctors specializing in Mental health, I gained some tools to handle life a little better. When released, I had to see a psychiatrist and therapist often. This is when I was diagnosed to have Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder with Seasonal Affective Disorder.

There's so much shame that comes with admitting to all of that. That I went to the 'looney bin' I mean. But there shouldn't have to be. That is the exact reason I am finally writing this post. No one should ever have to feel ashamed for getting the medical treatment they need. Whether it is to have a life saving surgery, or a life saving stay at a mental health facility, aren't they both equally important? In the end, not getting medical attention for either one has the same possible outcome.

Fast forward 3 years, to right now, this very moment. My house is a literal mess. My children are spending more time in their pajamas than they should and eating more chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese than I would ever care to admit (<---- Anyone who knows how much time and energy I put into creating healthy food for my family can probably guess how much that bothers me). All because I can't quite get a handle on my mental health at the moment.

I've been free of medication for over 2 years now. I've been doing everything I possibly can to avoid getting back on medication. I've drastically changed my diet. I stay away from gluten, dairy, and sugar (most of the time). Things have changed so much. I could never have imagined how amazing I've felt while being on such a drastically changed diet. I was beyond amazed the first day I felt like a 'normal' person, after 6 weeks of sticking to a very strict healthy diet. My head felt clear for the first time in my life. I felt as though things made sense. Life was great. Everything was wonderful.
I was able to continue feeling great for a month or two. Then, there was a gathering where I 'slipped' and had something with dairy &/or gluten, and felt horrible again for about a month. This cycle of feeling great, then slipping, feeling horrible, etc. has happened several times now. Every time, I tell myself how stupid it was, and that I won't do it again.

Over my Birthday weekend, I had the most delicious chocolate mousse dessert from Red Robin. How could I pass up eating my favorite dessert, while celebrating my birthday, for free? I even discussed it with Kodi. We agreed together that my Birthday was reason enough to slip up and eat something so delicious.
Boy, was I wrong. Nothing is worth what it cost me, and is still doing to me now, 2 weeks later. It takes a long time for dairy to fully get out of your system. For me, it seems to take about 4-6 weeks.
I shouldn't have indulged. And I hope to get back to better health in a few weeks.

A lot of people ask me why I won't just get back on medication. I have many answers for that question. Right now, my main answer is because I'm nursing my 21 month old. She struggles with sensory processing disorder and uses nursing to 'cope'. We are working on finding other coping strategies for her, but it is not an overnight process, and can lead to lots of long term damage if done abruptly. Now, I know many will say that there are medications that can help me, while not going through breast milk. This. This is a personal decision. I have read lots of differing information on this topic. I also already have major guilt for being on 5 different medications (that are not safe for pregnancy) when I got pregnant with Sophia. Had that pregnancy been planned, I most definitely would not have been on those medications. I don't know if I'll ever get over that guilt. All I can do is move forward, and try to make the best, well researched, informed decisions for both her and myself.

What I want to stress is that I DO believe medication can do great things. I truly do. I can see that in the near future I will probably need the assistance of some medication. I also believe that not ALL medications are meant to be used long term. BUT, if someone is so mentally unstable, that they are not safe, yes, most definitely, medication can literally be a life saver, or even just help someone get back on their feet and able to take the next step to better mental health. And yes, in many cases medications are a lifelong thing. And it's up to each person, with the correct professional care, to figure out what is best for them.

So, what am I doing right now, while not on medication? I've been reaching out to close family and friends. I'm reading up on things to do to help with my current depression and anxiety. I'm *trying* to eat healthy.

If only one thing is gained from this post, I hope it is this:
Reach out. Get the help you need. I know sometimes it seems easier to hide your true hurting inside, behind a fake smile. But please, don't try to fight your ailment alone. It's okay to need help. People are in our lives for a reason. If you feel you don't have anyone to help, there are many resources in most communities and online to get the help you need. And if in desperate need, there is a National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255. 

PLEASE, don't suffer alone. No matter how alone you feel, someone out there would much rather you get help from them, than suffer alone. Even if all you can do is send a simple text to someone letting them know you could use a virtual hug. That could be the first step to getting help ;) I sit here, emotional, thinking of how alone and confused Robin Williams must have felt. How alone and confused my dear Uncle must have felt. How alone and confused I have felt at times. How alone and confused so many people feel. To get to feeling that ending their life is the only option. It is not. There is help!

If this is all foreign to you, and you don't understand how someone could ever feel that way, consider yourself blessed.  Reach out to those who might be suffering. They don't want to feel that way. Be a listening ear to a lost soul. Read up on depression and mental health, to better understand.

Our society has come a long way recently, in recognizing all of this to be real issues that can no longer be ignored. Mental Illness doesn't have to be a shameful, untouchable topic. In this, I have great hope.

I dedicate this long, rambling post to my loving Uncle Jordan, who I miss every day, and left this earth all too soon. 

Milk

Milk... This is what happens when I consume dairy products. Within about an hour or 2 after having dairy, My hands get really itchy, scaley, covered with a red rash (& usually start bleeding). I've yet to find a lotion or remedy that can help with the pain & itching. I also get acne like a 13 year old going through puberty when I consume dairy. Yuck.
Over the past 6-12 months I've experimented with adding/subtracting certain foods, with crazy awesome results. The biggest 2 subtractions have been dairy and gluten. While being free from dairy and gluten, I knew that I was feeling much better mentally & physically, had more energy, and was pretty much feeling like a whole new person. In reality, I had forgotten just how BAD things were before this big change. Unfortunately, I am now being viciously reminded of just how BAD it really was.

After being completely gluten/dairy free for 1 whole month (which is REALLY hard, when your family still eats tons of food filled with these 2 items), I decided to indulge a little on Christmas. Okay, it was a little more than a little ;)  December 26 2013 - Worst. day. of my life, recently. I spent over 8 hours trapped in the bathroom in the most agonizing pain I've ever experienced (other than natural childbirth). I would have much rather been in labor. At least there would be a positive outcome: beautiful baby, and I would know that eventually the pain would go away. Instead, I kept wondering if I was ever going stop being in pain. Short of taking prescription pain pills (no thank you!), there was nothing that was helping to ease the pain. Finally, I was able to leave my royal throne long enough to climb in the tub. I don't know if it had just finally been long enough (8+ hours) or if the bath truly was as magical as I'm remembering. I was still in pain. But not the 'kill me now' kind of pain anymore. The rest of the night is somewhat of a blur to me, but the next day, still in pain, I decided it was time to get some REAL answers, and stop experimenting on my own.

I made an appointment with a GI that a friend recommended. I wasn't able to get in til January 29, but I was told The 'Gut Whisperer' was definitely worth the wait. The appointment went well. The Dr. (& staff) seemed up to par and very friendly. After talking with the Dr. and giving medical history, symptoms, etc, I was scheduled for an Endoscopy & Colonoscopy. FINALLY, some answers will hopefully be coming...

Wait, what? What about the milk? In order for those procedures to produce accurate results, I have to put dairy and gluten back in my diet. SHUT UP! Gah... So, here I am, 2 days into my dairy/gluten consuming journey. It's horrible. I seriously had totally forgotten how bad this all is. My hands hurting/itching/bleeding is just a small part of this nightmare. My energy level is at about 2%, down from like 100%+ just a few days ago. I felt like I was on cloud nine. Life could not have been better. Things were peachy keen. Today, I'm feeling so sluggish. Feeling very irritable. I'm scared of what's to come until I can stop eating these foods that my body just doesn't like. March 11. That's the day I go in for my Endoscopy/Colonoscopy.  Almost 6 weeks away. Can my body, can I, can my little family handle 6 more weeks of this. 2 days in and I'm missing my former 'diet'.

Here's to hoping the probiotics the Dr. recommended I start will help counteract the negative affects a little. He also prescribed something for the pain, but I REALLY REALLY dislike taking medication unless it is ABSOLUTELY necessary.

I realize this is somewhat of a whiney post. I didn't intend for it to be. I mostly wanted to jot down some of the feelings I've been having about the situation, and record some thoughts, so that I can remember it all as time goes by. My memory is terrible. Like, literally can't remember what I ate yesterday kind of terrible. If I don't take a picture of it or journal about it or somehow record the moment/thought, chances are, I won't remember...

starting again

As I lay here in bed, at 6 am, unable to go back to sleep for the past 2 hours (sick as a dog, with a head cold that just won't quit), all of these thoughts keep flooding through my head and just won't stop. Then i kept thinking about one of my favorite blogs I  follow, and the new blog she started as a sort of 'brain dump' or as a way to stay accountable to herself. I kept thinking 'man, i sure love that idea, but, meh, I don't have *time* to blog'. But here I am, just laying down, unable to stop this flood of thoughts from getting through. Might as well take advantage of this down time (stuck, laying next to my little sick baby, Sophia). Normally, I'd scroll through Facebook, maybe find a good article to read,  or check my e-mail (most of which is a big time waster for me) But i just keep thinking 'maybe getting some of these thoughts out will help ease the pain from the non stop, million miles an hour, words constantly going through my head'.  Funny enough, back when i first started this blog, i was thinking it might be a good place to 'brain dump', and post articles i had an interest in. Almost sort of a public, online journal - which i guess is pretty much what blogging is about (some genius i thought i was ;). Hopefully this time around I'll be a little more successful. My last blog post was in 2009. Only a 4+ year hiatus.... sounds about right for me. I get these great ideas, or hopes of doing some cool thing, stick to it for a bit, and then totally forget, or get sick/tired of it, and move onto something else. Yes, I'm definitely a fad junkie (which needs an entire post of it's own). I'm also a big *starter*. As in, i start lots of things, but never finish most of them. I used to (along with the rest of the world) call this a quitter. In hopes of being a more positive person, and helping my self esteem/self worth, I'd like to just call myself a starter ;)
For anyone reading this, here's a disclaimer for what to expect (or not expect) from this blog:
1- using correct comma placement is not my forte- bare with me.
2- I don't always use quotations correctly, so sue me ;)
2A- I use these things a lot (probably incorrect, over usage) - - - (what the heck are those things called anyway?)
2B- I (OVER) use parentheses, like to an (almost) annoying amount.
2C- maybe one day I'll take a writing class to help with 1- 2B. But probably not, cause i really disliked English/writing classes growing up.
3- I'm a lover of words, but am terrible with them- i could never be a writer.
4- although i have a few 'word usage' pet peeves (there, their, they're. Your, you're. Then, than), I in no way claim to use any/all words correctly, so please stop reading right now if you will lose sleep over this. Seriously. Stop. You ain't gonna find sophisticated writing here ;)
5 (or 2D)- I just noticed i use these a lot too /   /   /
6- most posts will probably be from my phone = random words missing, weird spaces, who knows what else. My phone has a mind of it's own sometimes.
7- I  like lists. They will most likely frequent here.
8- I don't know how to place paragraphs properly. That's where lists and run on paragraphs come in to play (that's a thing, right? Run on paragraphs? Like run on sentences, which I'm also pretty good at ;)

 If i go more than a week without posting, please cyber slap me, and remind me why I started, and re-started this blog =)
If you've read this far, uh, thanks? Congratulations?
Hopefully this is just the beginning of many many helpful (to me) posts. If it somehow helps someone else along the way, great, but this blog is honestly for my own selfish needs ;)

Five-inch stilettos, too-heavy handbags, a wedding dress that seemingly weighed as much as a small child — Parmeeta Ghoman admits she’s no stranger to suffering for fashion. “I’m the kind of person who buys shoes two sizes too small just because they’re cute — and they’re on sale,” says Ghoman, who's 28 and lives outside of San Francisco.

But when she wore a pair of super-tight skinny jeans to dinner with friends in December, she noticed an odd tingly sensation running up and down her thighs. And when she got up to walk around, things got weirder. She felt like she was almost "floating," because she couldn't feel her legs. “It felt really strange — it felt like my leg had gone to sleep,” Ghoman says.

Ghoman’s skin-tight denim may have caused a temporary bout of a nerve condition called meralgia paresthetica, also known as “tingling thigh syndrome.” The condition can happen when constant pressure — in Ghoman's case, from the skin-tight denim — cuts off the lateral femoral cutaneous nerve, causing a numb, tingling or burning sensation along the thigh.

Typically, sufferers of the nerve condition include construction workers or police officers with heavy, low-slung belts, pregnant women or obese people; it also can result from a pulled-tight seat belt in a car accident.

But over the last several years, experts say they’ve been seeing more young women at a healthy weight complain of symptoms. The culprit: too-tight jeans.

“The nerve, in some people, is susceptible to compression,” says Dr. John England, a New Orleans neurologist and a member of the American Academy of Neurology. The femoral cutaneous nerve, he explains, runs from the outside of the pelvis and through the thigh. “It is a pure sensory nerve — it doesn’t go to muscles or provide strength. Anything that is tight around there could potentially compress the nerve that goes there.”

Pair those skinny jeans with a pair of sky-high heels, and your risk for upsetting this particular nerve increases, as Ghoman discovered the hard way. Dr. William Madosky, a chiropractic physician in Richmond Heights, Mo., says that high heels increase the chance for the numbing sensation because the teetering shoes tilt the pelvis forward, increasing the pressure on the nerve.

Of course, this isn't the first time that blue jeans have been considered a health hazard. The super low-rise jeans that were especially popular in the late 90s and early 2000s were also linked to meralgia paresthetica. And in the 1970s, rumors circulated of snug jeans causing infertility in men and yeast infections in women.

But for those suffering from tingly thighs, there is little risk for permanent damage, most experts say. “Typically it’s not permanent,” Madosky says. “The key is, you remove the pressure, and the nerve regenerates.”

Experts say it's never been a problem to convince women suffering from numb thighs to change their fashion habits — most of them are so relieved to have found an explanation for their sudden tingles they're glad to switch to roomier pants.

But scary health tales aren’t enough to scare most fashion-conscious women from wearing their favorite skinny jeans. “It doesn't make me hesitate to wear my jeans— the same way I don't hesitate to wear the shoes I wear,” says Abby Gardener, editor of Fashionista.com, who has owned 10 pairs of skinny jeans and currently owns more than 30 jeans in all.

source: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/30870617?GT1=43001

My Opinion: Beauty is never worth pain!!! Seriously.. People don't care that they are in pain, as long as they look hot & fit in?!?

Vernix - Just some good info.

Vernix: More formally known as vernix caseosa, the vernix is a white cheesy substance that covers and protects the skin of the fetus and is still all over the skin of a baby at birth. Vernix is composed of sebum (the oil of the skin) and cells that have sloughed off the fetus' skin.

"Vernix" is the Latin word for "varnish." The vernix varnishes the baby. ("Caseosa" is "cheese" in Latin.)

Source: http://www.medterms.com/script/main/art.asp?articlekey=9403

When you see videos of a birth on television, you may see the doctors wiping off the “dirty” looking baby. If you think that this is a good idea, you may want to reconsider. This substance, made up of the skin oil and dead cells that the baby has shed in the womb, helps protect him or her from dehydration. Without the vernix caseosa, the baby would be born wrinkly from constantly being exposed to amniotic fluid.

If the vernix caseosa is left intact, the newborn will have more hydrated skin. In addition, the vernix caseosa also contains antimicrobials that are active against E. Coli, Group B Streptococcus, and other bacteria. So, leaving this substance intact, even though it's not very pretty, can prevent your child from becoming ill. Keeping the child together with his or her mother, and delaying the bath, can prevent some infections that are caused by the presence of these bacteria in hospitals.

Scientific studies have shown that vernix works not only as a moisturizer. It's also an effective cleanser, anti-infective agent, anti-oxidant and a wound healer. Studies are underway to find out how to synthesize the substance for use in helping children and adults who are in need of this substance's benefits, and to act as a delivery system for medication and other treatments.

Preterm babies tend to have more vernix on them than those born at full term. This is because the amount of vernix caseosa present decreases as birth nears. This substance originally develops at around 27 weeks, and is present up until birth. Babies who are born before 27 weeks may not have any vernix present. Stable preterm babies should especially be allowed to spend some time with their mothers immediately after birth, without being bathed. This may assist them in feeling less discomfort and remaining healthier than if they were cleaned.

Vernix caseosa might look unappealing, but it's really one of Nature's defenses against dryness, bacterial infections, and other dangers that your newborn might encounter.

Source: http://www.hip-chick-pregnancy-guide.com/vernix.html