They say I am, but I say I am not..... or am I?

There are some days I feel that there is a huge target on my back, telling people to kick me down.  I am not all that certain why I feel this way, but I have noticed a pattern I need to break or I will become another statistic.  Trust me, what I mean by "statistic" is just another person labeled depressed.  Not suicidal.  Thus today's blog.

I fully understand that people can get depressed from time to time.  That feeling of being "down in the dumps" is what comes to mind.  As described in multiple viewings of what depression is, I believe that everyone is depressed from time to time.  That lack of desire to do things once enjoyed seems to be the main component in deciphering if you are depressed or not.  Of course, there are the feelings of worthlessness, the desire to stay in bed, crying jags, weight gain/loss, and as I could go on and on with the other factors considered, I would like to try to explain how I am feeling.  Obviously, with hopes that I can get out of this "funk" I have been in for quite a while.

On the surface, I am a happy person with a sense of humor.  A sarcastic one at that.  This is what I allow people to see.  Unbeknownst to everyone, I feel trapped, silenced into submission that my fears, my sadness, my frustrations hold zero validity in being discussed with anyone.  Especially, those I have chosen to share my deepest feelings.

As I tend to be more of an empathetic soul, I tend to do more and ask less.  A problem solver that strives to make people feel better and be happier.  Case in point, my husband.  While I am aware that my husband is just like me (happy on the outside, troubled on the inside), he has managed to break free from the crushing feeling by talking to me about his feelings.  Sometimes, I try to offer some sage advice that I have been given, but he shuts me out.  A recent complaint about work had me figuratively swatted on my nose with a newspaper when I offered my opinion.  I was only trying to offer a different perspective to diffuse the situation, but I have been told that it is "none of my business", and "I have no clue what I am talking about".  I can only gather that he wanted to vent and did not ask for help from me, but it was done in a manner of which I believed he wanted feedback, empathy, or to bounce around some ideas to fix the problem.  The backlash I received was just another notch in the feeling of worthlessness column.

Being aware that people can be stressed at times, I tend to try to help where help is not asked for.  Case in point, my daughter.  She happens to have a lot on her plate with being a young mom, a part time college student and a part time worker at a local grocery store.  Being as smart as she is, she is in some difficult classes that have high expectations.  All I was trying to do was help her be more organized so it would be easier for her when it comes to the demands of time constraints.  Running around, looking for things only adds more stress to a stressful situation.  Being organized is a way to keep chaos in check and offer a little comfort of the mind that you know where everything is.  From planning the next day the night before makes a smoother flow of the day, thus not frazzling your nerves trying to figure out simple things like what to wear, to what to pack for lunch, to having all the necessary papers for class.  The only rule that ever stuck with her was to get homework done when you get home and then do other things more fun afterwards.  At least, your time is better managed that you are not up all night or scrambling to get the assignments done in the morning they are due.  While my daughter is a lot like me, she is just as confrontational as her father when I try to help.  Is it wrong for a mother to offer helpful hints when everything seems so crazy?  As she is a sensitive soul, like me, she seems to be so sensitive that she shuts me out of having real conversations.  Yet again, another notch in feeling worthless.

Not trying to place blame on anyone, but there are times I feel the need to talk.  I have concerns that are real to me, but in the eyes of others, they are nothing but nuisances and stuff I just need to "get over".  In fact, I am accused to being constantly plagued with things I need to "get over".  That feeling that I am drowning in anxious thoughts, and disappointment. 

This past year has been filled with doctor appointments and tests.  Tests that I have avoided for a while.  Turning 50 has not felt like the new 30's as some people like to claim.  Especially for women.  Between the annual mammogram, pap smear, and physical, you would think that is enough for a person, but once 50 rolls around, there are bone density tests, eye exams, colonoscopies, endoscopes, EKG's, and so on.  Feeling 10 feet tall and bulletproof stops when your mortality rests upon preventative tests to stay alive.  Fear of the "C - word" takes center stage.  We all would like to remain blissfully unaware of our demise, but there are some that are better than others at dealing with mortality fears than others.  I am not one of them.  Just the thought of what may or may not happen plagues me daily.  Some days, it is fairly easy to brush these fears off, but there are some days I really need someone to talk me down from the figurative ledge.  This is where I feel lost because when I reach out for someone to talk to about my fears, I am ridiculed for my feelings.  I am told that everyone doesn't need to hear how I am feeling.  Nobody cares that I feel like I am about to jump out of my skin in fear.  That everyone else made it through whatever I went through just fine.  That worrying about the "what ifs" and the "what could be's" is a waste of energy.  To just "get over myself" and forget that grain of sand in my path.  Just so you know... grains of sand do accumulate if there is nothing to stop them from accumulating.

As I would like to share a little more thought, I hear DH getting restless.  It is grocery shopping day and I need to get the list made and the planned meals of the week approved by the PEPIMHC (Picky Eating People In My House Committee).  If you are interested in reading more of this topic and my hopeful finding of a solution... stay tuned.  I will write more later.

Does a healthy mind really make a healthy body?

I was a thin gal once.  It took me until my teenage years to get there, but I was thin once.  What I found interesting back then was all I had to do was move more than most to get there.  You see, back then, I was able to eat candy and ride my bicycle for miles and managed to lose weight.  I guess it was the “move more” movement that worked for me, but once I got my drivers license, I resorted to eating less… way less to stay thin through the rest of my teenage years.  Little did I know that I would go down a very long spiral into becoming a stress eater with high expectations that being on a diet for a week would be the answer I need to get thin again.  Adulthood really let me down when I worked in an office and sat most of the day.  When I worked in the salon, I was on my feet.  There has never been a balance to consider as my age went up with my waistline.  The moment I fully landed in obesity city is when I was pregnant with my daughter.  Probably didn’t help that I waited until I hit my 30’s to become a mother, but having my daughter was worth it.  I sadly was complacent in overweight-ville for far too long and lost focus.

 

Believe me, I tried dieting to lose the weight, but there were so many roadblocks that set me up for failure.  I tried Jenny Craig and managed to lose a few pounds, but could not see myself eating Jenny Craig approved TV dinners for the rest of my life.  I had heard of some people succeeding, but would land back in obese city once they were left to their own devises to maintain that goal weight.  Sure, there were some that probably won the battle and stayed a winner, but I have no doubt that there were just as many that fell off the goal weight pedestal they worked at getting to.  I had tried Weight Watchers…. Twice!  I did well my first round with losing 45 pounds, but hit the brick wall of a plateau that had me quit.  I figured that once the scale budged more than a tenth of a pound, I would jump back on the food Nazi bandwagon and get to my goal.  It was nice to have anything I wanted to eat and maintain my weight, but lost focus and my weight skyrocketed before I could stop it.  I went back to Weight Watchers to try again, but their program changed in a way that I couldn’t meet that important weight loss goal of 10% of my body weight.  It was like my body decided that losing weight was a bad thing and held tightly to every fat cell that resided inside me.  It was a plateau situation all over again!  Only, I managed to lose 15 pounds and not the 45 I once lost before.

With even more weight to lose compared to the first time on Weight Watchers, I decided that after a year of no changes on the scale, I decided to go on the journey alone.  At least my wallet got a break.  That monthly fee to sit in meetings and be told it is bad to eat like normal people when it came to celebrations and eating out with friends.  That constant nagging need to figure if I could spare the points for my day to have a piece of cake at the birthday party or a few chips with salsa for a snack.  Heck, trying to figure out how many points it is for the salad dressing at the restaurant was giving me a migraine.  I understand that things should hold a value, but every bleeping crumb that passed my lips was getting to be a bit tiresome.  Then, let’s not forget the activity points you can earn.  Gee, was shoveling the driveway of snow for an hour a high intensity exercise with more points I can eat?  Or was my shoveling of the snow for an hour a low intensity activity because I didn’t throw out my back?  I was truly starting to believe that I lacked the ability to decide for myself anymore, but I at least figured that if I ate less carbs and ate more lean meats with vegetables and fruit, something will happen.

For the next couple years, I thought I had my eating all figured out, but then the evil beast all women call Menopause came knocking on my door.  The hot flashes, the mood swings, the night sweats and the itchy skin came to play and they brought the most unwelcome friend to the party…. Weight gain.  That beast thwarted every attempt I made to lose weight.  Sure, I had a moment that proved promising and that was drowning myself in drinking only water.  Sadly, I was not aware that too much of a good thing can potentially kill you when your sodium levels drop and you almost pass out doing ordinary tasks around the house, but I did lose 10 pounds.  With a little tweaking, I got myself back to feeling normal again, but it took me gaining those 10 pounds I lost.

I had accepted my fate and my body decided that I am meant to be obese.  That is when something changed inside me.  I started losing weight!  Albeit, it was not much.  A pound or two here and there, but there was progress.  I recall going to the doctor and was told to step on that blasted scale, only to find that I was down 4 pounds!  It is not anything monumental in the eyes of my doctor, but it was a welcome surprise to me!  I started thinking long and hard as to how this happened and came to the conclusion that my daily taking of a multivitamin was the step in the right direction.  Sure, I took vitamins while on all those diets and restrictive eating plans I tried over the years, but this just seemed…. Different.  It was not some disgusting horse-pill sized daily vitamin that got stuck in my throat every day.  It was a chew-able gummy vitamin that tasted like candy to me.  Made taking vitamins so much easier and I actually look forward to taking them.  I also added a probiotic gummy that has prebiotics for digestive health.  It was like getting candy for an after breakfast treat!  With taking vitamins daily now, I noticed that I am not painfully sick in the fall and winter like I have been, and it has become easier to eat in moderation.  Of course, eating in moderation has been something I always worked on, but there have been times I would take a second helping without thinking much of it.

Another thing I noticed is that my family life has changed.  I became a grandma almost a year ago and with the additional mouth to feed and the budget to maintain, I went into what I call the martyr mode of eating.  I made sure that everyone had enough to eat before I even think of having seconds of anything (and that included vegetables), and I always make my portions small to start.  Noticing that being satiated was enough and getting stuffed only made me want to throw up.  Along with the change in eating, I was moving more because I had more cleaning set before me.  I have noticed that I am okay with snacking here and there, but even that has improved.  I am not denying myself anything and it is so freeing from all those years of counting calories, points, and whatnot while forcing a diet on myself.

Sure, there are times I do not see those big changes on the scale, but every pound matters.  The last time I stepped on the scale for my official total, I was down a total of 41 pounds!  Of course, there are times the number on the scale goes the wrong way, or no way at all, but I remind myself that getting upset only pushes me to give up hope.  I am losing this weight for myself and nobody else.  I have a goal weight in mind and I remind myself that it will take time.  That there are obstacles everywhere, but if I appreciate the progress and not beat myself on the setbacks, I believe that there is hope that I can get there.  Not in the time-frame that I would like to have, but in the time-frame that my body allows it… it will happen.  It boils down to having a little self-love and a whole lot of patience.

Just recently, a client that has not seen me in months came in to get her hair done.  As I walked up to greet her, she gave me the compliment that I needed to hear… “WOW! You lost weight!  I almost didn’t recognize you!!”  Just knowing that people can see the change means a lot to me.  It validates the progress that I have made and is peeling away the pounds that were hiding the person inside.  The person I am proud of.  As long as I remain positive in my efforts and strive to keep trying.... I will get there.

So, in conclusion.... Does a healthy mind make a healthy body?  I think it does.

Thanks for reading and have a great day!