You are not your condition

When you know something is wrong but results tell you otherwise you may well find yourself on a path of desperation; tirelessly searching for a diagnosis. A label to tell you what you knew all along – that, somewhere along the line, your health got out of sync and now you’re dealing with the consequences.

Of course, the naming of medical conditions is there for a reason; they give the medical world a chance to distinguish the chronic from the acute; the serious from the not so serious…they also lay the foundations for a generic approach to ‘treating’ the problem at hand. But, psychologically, is this boxed perspective anything more than a hindrance?

It may validate your health complaints; removing any lasting suspicions of psychosomatic neurosis but there’s a real danger that you start to create one very limited, predefined path. A path that lures you into a new identity; one shaped by the characteristics of the condition, with little hope of healing or recovery. And who’s to say the label is even right?

If you’re freshly diagnosed, you may find yourself all-consumed by this new label. But, if your mindfulness practice is strong it will see you through this difficult time and give you the space you need to sit with all the uncomfortable feelings.

Most importantly, it will remind you that you are not your body and you are not your mind. Who you are sits deep within and it’s unchanging. Not like this suit of organs, skin and bones that we all inhabit.

It may take some time coming to terms with your diagnosis, but the important thing is that you stay kind to yourself. You are dealing with this in your own way and that is okay.

A little bit of sorrow is fine

When I was first diagnosed, I felt bad that I wasn’t a stronger person. That I was feeling so full of self-pity. It was like I had already given up.

But it’s all okay. You don’t need to beat yourself up for feeling sad, for crying, for moaning to friends and family. You are allowed to feel like this.

However, there does come a point when you have to get over the wallowing and realise that you’re no different to where you were the day before you got the diagnosis. It’s a label. A label created by another human being in a world that has a lot more to learn about life and the intricacies of the human body. It’s no more than that.

Don’t lose faith
If your condition is chronic, you probably feel like you’ve been given a life sentence. If it’s autoimmune, you may also have the word ‘degenerative’ ringing around in your head. But, again, this is all information from an industry that still has a lot to learn about the human body.

It’s also an industry that focuses on chemical fixes rather than treating the root cause. It’s an industry where the role of diet is given almost no credit, and where, up until recently, the neurological benefits of meditation were poo poo’d. Now, there’s a wealth of science out there demonstrating the life-changing effect this simple practice has on neuroplasticity and, in turn, physical and psychological health.

It is what it is
You may have lots of thoughts buzzing around on the unfairness of it all: ‘If only this hadn’t of happened’ or ‘It wasn’t meant to be like this, I was supposed to be doing this job or that sport…’ The fact of that matter is, that while you can control your future to an extent, you can’t control everything that life serves you. We don’t get to pick and choose the parts we play.

So, it’s here and you need to make friends with it. You may not feel like it but a whole new opportunity has opened up and if you work with your challenges using mindfulness, gratitude and self-love you’ll notice that life starts to unfold in ways you wouldn’t expect.

You’ll find that everything becomes precious; from the cool breeze on a sunny day to your morning cup of tea with a good friend. You’ll start to realise how hard your body works just to keep you happy. And you’ll learn to truly love yourself, with gratitude for the body you’ve been given.

If you haven’t done so already, start meditating. I can’t emphasise this enough – it really is a life-changing practice and, if practiced daily, you will start to notice the difference. You can find guidance on daily practice here.

You dû have a choice

There’s a lot of research out there to show that mind really can influence matter so the language you use is incredibly important when creating a positive mindset for healing. When it comes to taking on the identity of a condition, words like ‘feel’ and ‘have’ can be very powerful in reinforcing the symptoms you are experiencing.

One technique used in an increasingly popular neural training programme is to replace verbs with the word ‘dû’. So, you are ‘dûing’ stress rather than you ‘are’ stressed. Or in the case of an actual condition, you don’t have Hashimoto’s, you’re ‘dûing’ Hashimoto’s.

While ‘dû’ is pronounced the same as ‘do’, the accent in the ‘dû’ is representative of unintentional and unconscious action. This subtle change in language completely reframes the situation. You don’t need to be controlled by the condition when you have a conscious choice in the matter. From personal experience, the effects of practising this daily can be profound if combined with other forms of neural training.

It is not who you are and it never will be
So, there’s a lot you can do to work your way through this. We all have the power to make positive choices for the better and remaining kind to yourself is number 1.Take a step back and remember who you really are. You are more than just a label so start your journey by saying goodbye to this man-made stamp you’ve been given and recognising the power you have to create your own reality.

Who said poo was taboo?

WARNING: If you shy away from ‘poo stories’ this feature is not for you…

Let’s face it, most of us are plighted by constipation at some point in our lives. But if you have reached the stage where you’ve almost forgotten what it means to sit on the toilet without the added extra push, then you’ll know just how much it can take over your life.

I’ve spent the last couple of years chronically constipated and it wasn’t until a year down the line that I managed to get an abdominal x-ray showing I was impacted. For those of you who don’t know, this basically means you are full of shit, literally. Yes, that’s right, my poop had overstayed its welcome and was sitting there, happy as Larry in my large bowel.

In my case, I went on to have a course of colonic hydrotherapy which I can’t thank enough for putting me on the path to recovery. If this is something you’re considering, you don’t want to make the decision lightly as there are pros and cons to using this therapy. You can read a bit more on that here.

Anyway, if you’ve been chronically constipated for some time now, I strongly recommend you push (excuse the pun) for an abdominal x-ray. Impaction is no fun and it can cause all sorts of health problems; bloating, fatigue, insomnia, not to mention A LOT of pain and discomfort. And if you don’t get impaction sorted out, you’re also at risk of doing your body some serious internal damage. So please – speak to your Dr and see what they can do.

Impaction was just one of the many consequences of my ongoing plight with constipation. I also have constipation to thank for the development of a very intimate relationship with my poop. From toilet acrobatics in the Dr’s surgery – trying to figure out how anyone manages to poop and pack into those tiny little jars – to taking a deep interest in the structure and contents of my socially reprehensible friend.

The peak of my personal journey with poop came in China…you may be aware that digestive relief here comes in the form of squat toilets. Well, on my first day as a traveller in China, I was mortified to find myself crouching over a friend’s toilet only to see that squat toilets are not too welcoming of a constipated colon.

There they were – my type 1 stools, sitting in the bowl stubborn as anything, refusing to go down. They’d set up home. And size was not the issue. Compaction was the issue and every time I flushed, every time they returned. I reached the point of desperation and found myself with plastic cutlery in hand, chopping it up like I was prepping for the evening meal.

The depths to which I was reduced (literally), was one of many over the last year where I have found myself seriously thinking ‘Is this really what life has become?!’

But you have to see the humour in these moments and be grateful for the comedic value they bring. You can’t deny it makes life interesting and there’s a lot to be said for that.

In my quest for digestive relief I have spent many days trawling the net for the magic solution – refusing to believe that there is no ‘easy fix’ out there. It was during this time that I found myself increasingly frustrated with the stream of sites giving out simple advice – all on the premise that constipation is easily fixed…”do more exercise”, “eat more fibre”, “drink more water”…blah, blah, blah.

I’m all too familiar with the need for soluble and insoluble fibre, I drink 2-3 litres of water every day and yes I’ve tried prunes, psylium husk and much, much more. I start my day with gut-healing bone broth and flaxseed, and always fit in my daily meditation and outdoor walk – you name it I’ve done it.

Maybe I sound a little bitter, but none of it has worked for me so there’s something else at work here. I’m at the stage, where I’m hoping to try something known as gut directed hypnotherapy. It’s been shown to have a 70% success rate for treating IBS and constipation (yes, there is still light at the end of the tunnel for us all).

But back to the point of this article, there are other ways you can help yourself, aside from the bog standard eating, drinking and exercising. I’ve shared some of these tips in Managing constipation so click through and see if any of it works for you. If you do have success, I would love to hear from you…happy pooping!

From the eyes of a gooseberry…

 

If you’re a singleton reading this, chances are you’re all too familiar with the concept of the ‘third wheel’; the concept that can find you sitting on the edge of the precipice, while two lovebirds mosey on in their own world blissfully unaware.

Some couples are okay. They keep their hands to themselves, and they’re conscious that others exist outside of their bubble. But the honeymoon couple, now that’s a whole different kettle of fish.

It doesn’t matter how friendly they are, how genuine they are, or how much they try to include you in this state of joy…it’s glaringly apparent that you’re an outsider who only serves to snatch away precious moments; moments made up of unabashed PDAs (public displays of affection, but I’m sure you know that).

Having recently upped and left my hometown for city life, I found myself in this situation after moving into a houseshare with not one, but two newly infatuated lovebirds. Perfectly lovely people, although I do find myself doubting this when the frustration starts creeping in.

To give a bit of context, I’ve been on a long journey ever since coming out of a nine year relationship. During this time I’ve gone through all the stages of post-relationship breakdown…mental girl goes wild, bitter and twisted man-hater, relationship cynic and commitment phobe.

Yep, I’ve done all of that and I’d come out the other side. The revelatory moment came when, one day, I found myself looking at a couple holding hands on the street. Rather than scrunching up my nose in disgust or looking at them with pity, I felt a surge of warmth; touched by the depth of their love.

So, the rate at which this freshly formed relationship has come screeching up in front of me has come as somewhat of a shock. As the cycle of ‘baby’, ‘bub’, and playful banter build, so to do the invisible barriers around this fortress of infatuation.

I look on at this newfound world, and wonder…what is it that makes the honeymoon couple so infuriating? What is it about my place in this that gives me so much angst?

Setting aside the practical issues of sharing a tiny space with a pair of love fools, there’s a whole tangle of knots that I start to unfurl.

I realise that being completely new to an area, you transition from feeling well-known with a clear sense of identity to a blank canvass amongst a sea of entrenched connections. It makes you feel vulnerable.

Your sense of being starts to be defined by the interactions with those around you…people who know nothing about you, who hold each other in very high stead with no time to find out what you can offer them. You feel your identity slipping away, and you start to question your worth. What is it that you bring to the equation?

And of course, when you see a happy couple so full of joy; so spurred on by one another, you start to see a gaping hole in your own life. Where is my own bubble of bliss? Where is my partner in crime? Is it possible that I can bring someone else this much happiness?

My initial response to this question saw me drag my feet back to good old online dating. Nights spent trawling ‘odds and ends’, instigating chats with rare finds only to find the attraction is not mutual, and batting away the crazies.

Despite the trauma, I tell myself it’s okay – this is perfectly normal for someone starting afresh in a new area. And of course, ‘normal’ it may be, but is it really ‘okay’? Yes I want to meet new and interesting people, but when it comes to dating I’m not prepared to use someone else’s love to cover up for my own self-lacking.

So I take a step back and I re-evaluate. The honeymoon couple have brought my insecurities to the fore. If I was truly comfortable in my own skin; if I relished time spent with myself, would I really care that I had been certified with gooseberry status?

I don’t think so. And with this in mind, I decide to rebuild my sense of self-love. The perils of a relationship founded on insecurity and reliance are simply not worth the time or effort.

Welcome to the stage, loving kindness. In moments like these I’m thankful for the likes of Jon Kabat Zinn, Shamash Alidina and Esther Teule, whose practices are invaluable for bringing me home to myself. Paul Gilbert and Kristin Neff are also well known for their work in self-compassion.

Now I practice each and every day, and little breakthroughs do occur. I feel that rush of warmth for my own being; truly treasuring who I really am. These moments are only fleeting, and all the while I’m aware of the honeymoon couple in their hazy bubble. But who knows, maybe one day I’ll find me, myself and I in a fresh, new bubble of our own.

A little bit of what you fancy…

Today’s post is inspired by an afternoon of gluttony gone mad. I’ve always loved food but I’ve always known when to stop, and I’ve never had a sweet tooth. But when things started to go wrong with my health, one of the first things I noticed was an insatiable appetite for sugar. I was a demon… fantasising about chocolate and cakes all day, every day; determined to get my sugar fix at whatever cost.

Life became a cycle of self-torture and bingeing. Binges were always followed by melancholia and resignation; once the rules were broken it was pointless stopping there so I’d set out to cram as much junk into my body as I could. Every day was a fresh start, but when things were at their worst, every day was a fail.

After one particularly impressive feat, I remember laying there in a food coma, full of self-loathing. I hated myself for this and I hated how it made me feel. Every time I ate sugar, my poor belly would bloat to new levels I didn’t think humanely possible; and in my mind I was a fat, frumpy pig.

Why am I sharing this?
This is in the past now, and I’m grateful to have experienced it as part of my journey. But for you, you may be going through this very cycle right now and I want you to know that it is okay. It is all okay – every little bit of it.

There’s absolutely no need to berate yourself. Avoiding self-judgement is hard because of the way it makes you feel and the fact that most people simply can’t understand.

When I started to realise something was wrong, no one else took it seriously. If people can’t relate to your experience, it’s hard for them to understand that it’s more than just being weak-willed. Some will believe that there’s no problem and you’re just being too hard on yourself.

On my attempt to cut out the evil sugar, friends and family would tell me to lighten up and ‘treat myself’, I even found cakes hidden in my bags from crafty friends who didn’t realise the extent of the problem at that point.

But binge-eating is not a sign of weakness; it’s a sign of an imbalance that needs to be fixed, and that could be psychological, physical or emotional.

By the time I officially said goodbye to sugar, I was used to the all too familiar saying ‘a little bit of what you fancy does you good’.  But for me, I couldn’t trust myself; my gut was compromised and for some reason, something inside just kept screaming out for more. So, armed with my meditation practice and some other tools, I embarked on an anti-candida/elimination diet.

That’s when the shit really hit the fan; when the true beast was unleashed. All the ailments and symptoms I’d experienced over the past months – they came back ten-fold. I later discovered this was what is known as a Herxheimer reaction.

Luckily I also had the support of my naturopath.  If I didn’t have that personal source of encouragement and reassurance I’m not sure I would have stuck to it.

Now, those nasty cravings are a thing of the past.  But don’t get me wrong, I haven’t nailed it completely. And if, God forbid, I make one little slip  into ‘processed food’ territory, whether it’s something as seemingly innocent as a Nakd bar or packet of salted nuts, I WILL go to town. Luckily I’m strong enough to avoid chocolate and refined sugar; I’m far too fearful of the consequences.

If you’re fresh onto this road you can read about the tools and techniques that got me through this tough time. It’s not smooth sailing, it was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but hopefully it will help you on your way to a healthier appetite and more manageable level of hunger control.