buh-bye!

Today I’m off for my overnight getaway, and I am giddy with anticipation. Wow. I didn’t realize until just now, zipping up my suitcase, how much I need this. I am very grateful that I am able to spend a night away from home, away from the dishes and macaroni and strewn toys that need to be picked up, from the overflowing trash can and the pile of laundry. I am grateful that my in-laws live nearby and have the kind of relationship with my kids that provides a good time for everybody when my boys spend the night there. I’m grateful that my husband will also have some much needed time to himself to write, sleep, watch sports or do whatever it is that he feels like doing, in the moment he feels like doing it. I’m grateful that we have the resources, the money, the time, the car that enables me to go away for a night and come home again, refreshed. And I am so, so grateful for a friend with whom I can go, knowing that the time together will be fun and easy, deep and healing.
I am sending out a little payer for all the mothers and women everywhere who are so lucky as me.

all clean?

Well. That’s better. Last night I went for my colonic. I’ve had a few in the past, but it’s been years. I called around to a couple of different places and booked my appointment with the first one that returned my call. The place was nice, the practitioner friendly, but not too much so, which I appreciated. She escorted me to the treatment room and explained what would happen. Told me how much to undress and where to sit, etc. Then she said – and I found this odd – “It’s okay to talk on the phone during your treatment, so you can keep your phone with you.”
While I lay there trying to relax while feeling the rush of fluids in and out of my body, I thought about how GRATEFUL I am that I do not have the kind of lifestyle which would necessitate my taking a phone call while getting a colonic.
Well, the treatment certainly got things moving, and I am, to a certain extent, relieved. I’m still experiencing some pain and bloating, however. I could burp for about 5 minutes straight. While both my sons might find this hilarious, it is a bit uncomfortable.
Meanwhile, my period started yesterday. Hmm, interesting. On one of the websites, it said that IBS is often triggered by the onset of menstruation. This is not a normal period, either, I might add. It was 44 days in coming, which is long, even for me, and I usually go 34-36 days. And it’s not really flowing either. It’s like everything in my body is just sitting there, held in, waiting for something.
Clearly, something is not right. So now what?
I’d love to get some acupuncture. I think it would help immensely. The question is how? I can’t afford a ton of treatments, but even if I could, I have no time. I currently have about one hour a week during which I am both kid-free and not doing some kind of paid work. I’ve taken my younger child to therapy with me, but he was still crawling then, so it was a bit more manageable. Last week I brought him with to my pap smear, and that was a bit of a challenge, but do-able. My older son goes to the chiropractor with me and has a good enough time. Somehow, though, it seems like it could be counterproductive having the needles in and trying to keep Elijah from uprooting the lucking bamboo while also keeping Caleb entertained by making up stories for him on demand. I could hire a sitter, but then that would just add to the cost, obviously.
I could have a conversation with my husband during which I tell him my needs and we negotiate our schedules.
Wait, what?
The good news is that I’m leaving town tomorrow with a friend. We’re going away for what maybe becoming our annual garage-sale funded birthday celebration night away. Can’t wait.

now what?

Okay, so now I think I have irritable bowel syndrome. God. I feel like I’m turning into one of those people who can only talk about her ailments, but I have not felt this bad in years. I went through this period about five or six years ago when I would have these bouts or, as I thought of them, “attacks” during which I would be seriously constipated for days, weeks, accompanied by intense stomach pain. My belly would distend, and I literally could not eat anything that would not cause pain and bloating. Even chicken broth would bring this on.
Then, mysteriously, it would go away. Then come back. I couldn’t seem to find a pattern. I went to various doctors and practitioners, one of whom was a proctologist. I told him my symptoms. He said, “Eat more fiber.” At the time, I was literally eating nothing but fiber, three times amount he recommended. I tried to explain this, and he gave me a pamphlet with drawings of fruits vegetables and grains illustrating what he meant by “fiber.” I said I thought I might have irritable bowel syndrome. He laughed. He said if I did, I would not be constipated, I would have diarrhea. About a year later, I saw a commercial on TV for a new drug, just for women that treated IBS with constipation. I’m actually grateful the doctor did not prescribe it, or I’d probably have gone the drug route, and if possible, I would rather not.
The naprapath I was seeing at the time suggested that my symptoms were allergy-related. Not food allergies, but seasonal. That was also during the fall, so she may have been on to something there. She also recommended that I eat a chopped-up apple sprinkled with flax seeds before going to bed at night, and to avoid raw vegetables.
These things seemed to help.
Since then, I’ve had a few bouts of this now and then, but nothing as severe as that, until now. I checked a few websites (I know, I know) to get more info about “triggering foods.” I’m not eating any fried or greasy foods or white flour, which are major culprits. But I have been eating a lot more nut butter than I usually do, and carob, both of which can cause an attack of IBS. Crap. So there are two more things to eliminate from my already fairly restricted diet.
I don’t even know if I have it or not, but in any case, I am very grateful that for my birthday, my husband gave me a gift certificate for a colonic. (Yes, this was a request, not a random stab and what I might possibly want as a gift this year ). I am going to redeem it at 7:00 tonight. I am in a lot of pain at the moment, and I am counting the minutes.

another day of graditude

I teach a writing class on Tuesday nights, and my mom usually babysits. My folks are vacationing in Mexico this week, so I called the kid across the alley to see if he could sit. He has done so before, with mixed results. Nothing “bad” has ever happened when the kids are in his care, but he’s done things like forget to turn off the overhead light when putting the baby to bed, and last time, he wouldn’t let my older son put the CD’s in the boom box because he didn’t believe we would allow this. He is very earnest and took a Red Cross Babysitting course and brought his certificate to show us when he came for his “interview” (a meeting which he insisted on having). But, he has just turned 13, and since a three-year-old and one-year-old are a lot for ME to handle, we generally use his services when we’re going out after the kids are in bed.
Tonight he didn’t show up. My class starts at 6:30, and he was to arrive at 5:30, which would give me just enough time to drive across town, park, check in at the office and get to my class. At 6:40 I phoned my brother’s house since they live close to the campus where I’m teaching to see if they would be home, but they were going out. I am GRATEFUL that the sitter they had hired for the evening to watch my niece happens to be the same woman who babysits in the nursery of the church we attend, so my kids know her. So, when I pulled up in the dark alley behind their building and handed my kids off saying, “the baby’s got teeth coming in and he’s been really fussy all day and neither one of them has napped and I hope no one poops because I forgot the diaper bag tim will be here by 7:30 to pick them up my class starts in three minutes gotta run bye,” I was very GRATEFUL it was someone they knew and I didn’t have to speed out of there leaving them in the dust with a complete stranger.

back on the wagon?

So I guess I need to figure out what I am doing, whether it’s taking things one day at a time, re-committing to this diet, blowing it off and eating what I want, or, having cut my sugar cravings, moving forward with my new lifestyle, which includes eating small amounts of sugar once in a great while.
The last one here is my favorite, but it’s the “once in a while” bit that throws me. Does “once in a while” mean special occasions? And if so, how are those defined? Does it mean once a week? Birthday parties? Tuedays?
With the holidays approaching, I feel like I need to at least have some kind of game plan in place, and then if I choose to deviate from that fine, but right now things feel sort of like a free-for-all.
Sometimes, I have felt as if I could go on following the diet as I have been for a long time. I’ve gotten somewhat used to it, the sugar cravings have subsided a great deal, and I’m getting back into the habit of cooking, which is a huge part of it. And sometimes I really did think, maybe I just won’t eat sugar at all anymore. But then it was my birthday and I found that I wanted to eat a piece of the molten chocolate cake my sister-in-law made. And have a glass of wine. And I felt okay about doing that at the time.
So then I thought, well, I can go along like this, as long as I can make exceptions now and then. But the holidays are coming up, and let’s face it, there’s a “special occasion” every other day. So then what? Decide in the moment? That doesn’t feel safe to me. Do what I can until after the first of the year and then get serious again? Decide that I’m just not going to eat any sugar, period?
Would I feel too desolate, like I’m denying myself too much?
I try not to live in a black-and-white manner, but maybe I need to.
I recently read a post on this subject that I found very enlightening. Reading Mama Dharma’s thoughts on sugar consumption made me think that maybe, as she says, the most compassionate thing for me to do for myself is to just not eat sugar, at all. The back-and-forth cravings swing is just too hard.
I’m still thinking about it.
Meanwhile, I’ve been in denial about my really “needing” to do this diet/detox program. I thought that if I did actually have candida, it was a mild case and could be eradicated with a fairly modified version of the diet. I really felt like I was doing this whole thing more for spiritual or energetic reasons than for physical ones. I thought that I could do it for a month and then move on. I thought that I could pick and choose the parts I liked of the many versions of the diet, and/or that not eating sugar and wheat would be enough of a shift in my eating habits to kill the candida.
Well, I still have it, so now what? And, as I said in my last post, it wasn’t a surprise that I still had it, but still, having it confirmed with an actual test makes it hard to kid myself any more.
Then again, why am I doing this exactly? Does it really matter if I have candida? Depending on whom you ask, 30% or 80% of people are walking around with candida and don’t know it. So what’s the big deal. It’s not like I feel like I need to be totally pure and clean to be okay. I live in a city, after all. There is no totally pure and clean here.
And let’s face it – it’s not like I have felt that great on the diet. I lost ten pounds (or seven, depending on the day), which is nice, but I’ve been tired as hell, crabby, and, as I said, so damn constipated I could scream. Until today. Now I have the other problem, the one I can never spell.
Anyway. Lots of unanswered questions for the time being.
While swimming in uncertainty about so many things, I have decided to take up the challenge and try to post something for which I am grateful (almost)everyday for November. This much I know:
I am grateful that I have a choice to either eat sugar or not. That I live in a place and time and culture of abundance (excess perhaps, but I’m being grateful), so that I can choose how and when and what to eat.
I’m grateful that I don’t have diabetes or another disease that makes the consequences of these choices potentially much more dire.
This will sound strange, but I’m actually grateful I have diarrhea at the moment. After feeling so completely blocked for a month, this latest “symptom” is a welcome relief! And I’m grateful, again that I live a life where this is actually welcome and not life-threatening.
I’m grateful for you, reading this.

I'm back?

I’ve been AWOL. Had pretty much been thinking in terms of having completely abandoned the whole blog business because I’ve been feeling too entirely overwhelmed by everything and can’t manage to even keep up with reading the blogs that I have come to enjoy in the short time since I’ve entered this strange world of blogging, let alone compose posts of my own. Besides I have found myself lately in a profoundly non-verbal space which is strange for me and not a little frightening, to tell you the truth, but that’s where I’ve been.
Plus, both my kids seem to have given up napping, so that’s been fun.
And then there’s the fact that I’ve been playing martyr in my marriage and offering up the minute parcels of “time to myself” that I have to my husband because he does, after all, earn (most of)the money and has been up nights finishing his work, and so who am I to claim need of such a thing as “time to write.” Ha. Not real healthy, I know, but for now, it's all I know how to do.
Meanwhile, I had my pap smear appointment the other day and talked to my midwife about what’s been going on with me and she did a test, which shows I have…..YEAST!! yes, five weeks into doing the candida diet yeast is still present in my body. I was not shocked. Disappointed, yes. Surprised, no. The good news is that she did not see it when she was down there,which means there was not a full-blown yeast infection. So that’s something.
Still. I’m still fighting the fungus.
That was the day before Halloween, so you can imagine what went down with all that candy in the house.
And the next two days I was involved in a focus group for…..SNACK CAKES!! I was asked to sample cream-filled, vanilla snack cakes. Four on the first day, three on the second, and then give my opinion.
Honestly, they were a little disgusting. It wasn’t just the sugar, but the artificial-ness of them. Yuck.
And since then, I’ve been giving myself a break from the diet. I’ll get back on track tomorrow, I think. It’s been interesting. I have not gone SUGAR CRAZY since its reintroduction into my system as I might have in the past. I haven’t thought, well, I’m “cheating” today, so I might as well eat complete crap all day long. There has been some new and different behavior going on here, which feels good. It's as if some kind of growth has occurred while I was looking elsewhere.
Today, for breakfast I might have had any number of things I’ve been “denying” myself for the past month, and might have even put pressure on myself to “live it up” while I’m “taking the day off.” But what I really wanted was a bowl of oatmeal with raisins and a little honey. So that’s what I had. Not exactly candida-diet friendly, but not a bowl of Sugar Snaps in chocolate milk, either.
So, anyway. I’ve been feeling a little nutty. Like thinking that I might actually be making a long-term lifestyle change, as opposed to a 30-day “diet” which is what I thought I was doing, and the shift in thinking has thrown me for a loop. I had no idea how much the things I eat are tied up with my identity. Also, how much of the way I eat is tied in with a lot of stuff about my mother. That both of these things have been so shocking has itself been a little shocking. These are the kinds of things I know but don’t really know I know or want to know that I know, but they’ve been right in front of me the whole time.
Also, I had such high expectations of this “cleanse.” Like I would struggle with detox the first week or so, and then have a cathartic moment where I would have a good cry and then afterwards I would feel light and clean and all would be right with the world.
Um, no.
The reality is that I still feel really bogged down, emotionally and physically. I have not cried since that day unloading the dishwasher even though I have needed to on several occasions, and I’m so incredibly constipated – despite the use of a two-week Enzymatic Cleasing Kit with includes both fiber and herbal laxative pills – that I literally broke into a cold sweat while sitting on the toilet the other day.
Fun times!
So, I may or may not be adjusting my expectations, and I may or may not explore this and more here. I’m not committing to anything. Everything is turning out to be very different from what I thought, which, I supposed, could be just fine.

a little dizzy

I’ve been in a funky place this week. Feeling overwhelmed, like I can’t keep up with things. My sinuses and itchy spots seem to have taken a turn for the worse, too. I’m starting to get to that obsessive place, wondering if it’s because I made some baked oatbran with carob chips, a recipe I found on one of the candida websites so it “should” be candida-friendly, but everyone knows that oats are a controversial grain (duh!), and so now I’m not sure if it’s something I should have eaten or not but then feeling crazy for feeling like I’ve strayed way off course because I ate OATS and UNSWEETENED carob, for crying out loud. This is the place I was afraid of.
And so, here I am - hyper-aware of every “symptom” and then wondering what it might be a “symptom” of – life?
I also have these crazy bruises all over my body. Not sure what that’s about. Has there been some kind of change in my blood chemistry? Or am I just really out of my body and trying to get back in?
I think I feel okay, being off the meds. (really??), although today I realized that I’m having trouble feeling like I’m kicking into gear. But that could be because of just about anything right now (see above).
I want to be able to just be here, where I am, without having to know “why,” as if my entire life is a disease.
Meanwhile, had a couple’s therapy appointment yesterday and am feeling very confused about that. About reality. I love my husband and he loves me and yet part of me feels very closed off or shut down or dead. And then there’s all the “why” questions again. I’m beginning to look at myself and my behavior and its impact in new ways, which I think is a good thing but for the moment, while my perspective is dramatically shifting, I feel myself reaching for the walls to steady myself and slow everything down, but what do you know – the world just keeps on turning anyway.
I turn 39 today.

an experiment

I have two pills left. I have been taking Wellbutrin, an antidepressant, for the past six months (has it been that long already?), and in two days I will stop taking it. I think. I’m nervous about going off the meds, even if I feel ready. I don’t really have a sense of how they are affecting me, and so I don’t know how I will feel when they are out of my system. I don’t even know if I was actually depressed before, but I guess that’s part of the whole conundrum. It’s not a black-or-white thing.
But wait a minute. Yes. Now that I think about it, I was depressed. I was experiencing a darkness I had not previously known, but the sense of darkness was accompanied by numbness, so everything, even the memory of it now, seems muted.
I did not make the decision to take an antidepressant lightly. It was one of those things I thought I would never do. I believed that antidepressants were taken in situations where there was a vague, free-floating kind of heaviness with no identifiable cause. I felt as if I could point to specific things in my life that I knew were causing me pain. The answer, then, was to “fix” the problems. If I took a drug to make the pain go away, I might forget I had problems and would be tricked into thinking they were gone. I was afraid I’d be a Stepford Wife.
But the medication did what my therapist at the time said they might: gave me some perspective, lifted me out of a deep pit of darkness. I feel more clear now than I have in a while. I’m still aware of the issues in my life and feel the pain of them but I do not feel hopeless and despairing over them.
I do not feel depressed.
Sometimes I feel like I didn’t really “do” anything to feel better and so my current state of more-happy was not fully earned or deserved or is somehow not real. I might only feel this way because of the medication. I guess we’ll find out.
I’m also not sure if I’m going off of them the “right” way. When I started taking them, the doctor gave me three days of a half-dose to take before the full dose began. Now I’m just stopping. I’m also not sure if it’s wise to go off them now, during this cleanse of sorts, given that the carb withdrawal has sent me reeling through dramatic shifts in mood and energy level. I guess we’ll find out.
I know it might be best if I was under the care of a physician at the moment, but I don’t feel like it. I’m not sure if I’m being childish about that or if I’m listening to some inner wisdom that tells me everything will be okay. I guess we’ll find out.
Meanwhile, I am working on being present, remembering to choose happiness, and accepting the parts of myself that butt in and keep me from doing that. I am open to being sad. I’m afraid of not being able to not be sad. I want to learn to let myself fully feel and express my sadness so that I can let it go. I’m not sure what will happen now. I guess we’ll find out.

I’ve been thinking about Karen’s posts over the past few days, about happiness and how we think about happiness. And wouldn’t you know it, just today I happen to open a book to this poem:


The Happiest Day
by Linda Pastan

It was early May, I think
a moment of lilac or dogwood
when so many promises are made
it hardly matters if a few are broken.
My mother and father still hovered
in the background, part of the scenery
like the houses I had grown up in,
and if they would be torn down later
that was something I knew
but didn’t believe. Our children were asleep
or playing, the younest as new
as the new smell of the lilacs,
and how could I have guessed
their roots were shallow
and would be easily transplanted.
I didn’t even guess that I was happy.
The small irritations that are like salt
on melon were what I dwelt on,
though in truth they simply
made the fruit taste sweeter.
So we sat on the porch
in the cool morning, sipping
hot coffee. Behind the news of the day –
strikes and small wars, a fire somewhere –
I could see the top of your dark head
and thought not of public conflagrations
but of how it would feel on my bare shoulder.
If someone could stop the camera then . . .
If someone could only stop the camera
and ask me: are you happy?
perhaps I would have noticed
how the morning shone in the reflected
color of lilac. Yes, I might have said
and offered a steaming cup of coffee.

communing vs cheating

Last Sunday I attended a baby shower. At the shower, I ate pasta, blue cheese, bread, mushrooms and CAKE, among other things which were or were not on the “allowed foods” list I have been trying to follow. I have decided to be okay with this. Before going, I considered the fact that the shower was going to be held at an Italian restaurant, and I weighed some options for lunch: I could eat only “allowed” foods and abstain from others, a choice which might involve picking through the salad bowl as it was being passed around the table or requesting a complete ingredient list from the wait staff. I could take whatever is offered and move the food around on my plate. I could tap my fork against my water glass and make an announcement: “While I am happy to be here, I will not be eating lunch today because I’m not consuming wheat dairy sugar fungi as I am trying to rid my body of candida which is a systemic fungus….” And then go into more detail, as requested by the other guests.
I pretty much thought I would do what I did, which might be called “cheating.”
But I’m not calling it that. I’m calling it “communing.” I took part in a ritual. I might have done so without the cake, but I had my cake and said mmmm with everyone else. Because I wanted to. I worried a bit about the ritualizing, in general, of eating certain foods simply to have an excuse to eat what we know is not good for us, a custom quite prevalent in our culture and most definitely in my family. Any occasion is an occasion to eat, and to “cheat” on whatever particular diet we might be following at the moment, so that we can then punish ourselves again on Monday. But then Monday is “woo-hoo Monday!!” Time to eat donuts. And on and on.
But this felt different. At this event in particular, I wanted to celebrate life and affirm the pleasure of cake-eating. It seemed important to not worry about “rules” and enjoy myself with the other women in my family, cousins I see only on holidays, and with Elizabeth, the mom-to-be, because the baby we were welcoming has spina bifida. He will be born via planned C-section and taken immediately for surgery to close his spine. More surgeries will follow. Beyond that, much is uncertain.
I wasn’t sure what the tone of the shower would be, or if any of this would be acknowledged. I was happy to see that Elizabeth seemed excited and nervous in the way most moms-to-be are nervous as they near their 8th month of pregnancy. She looked beautiful as she unwrapped the onesies and the changing table pad. She was excited to receive the exersaucer and the bouncy seat she had carefully selected for her registry at babies r us.
There was no sign that she felt in any way “cheated” of a healthy, “normal” baby. She was already in love with her son.
The cake being passed around looked delicious. I took a slice and enjoyed every bite.

Day Four

Last night’s dreams: I am walking through a grocery store eating a chunk of cheese. When I get outside, I’m busted by a security guard who says I have to go back in and pay for it. I tell him, no, it was mine, I had it in my purse. He says, who do you think you’re kidding lady?
Later, I’m spreading hummus on a tortilla and cutting peppers and tomatoes to put on top. It looks really good, and I’m thinking about how healthy it is. I’m about to take a bite when I realize, I can’t have tortillas! What was I thinking? And then I have that panicky feeling of dread where I wonder what other things I have “accidentally” eaten.
Just before I wake, I dream that the toilet is overflowing. My husband wants me to get up and help because the water is running across the bathroom floor into the hallway and dripping into the basement, and besides, it was me who clogged the toilet in the first place. I try to explain that I used the plunger a number of times but the toilet is still clogged. Then I get up to get some towels, wondering where I left all the rags.

I’ve been feeling like crap. I feel okay for a while, and then like crap again. And really I can’t believe how TIRED I am. Not just a little sleepy or worn out in the evening. I’m talking have to pass out in the middle of the day while the kids (thank god!) nap. It’s hard to get out of bed in the morning.
Was I so completely fueled by carbs that when I don’t eat them I can hardly function?
I also cannot believe how much actual, physical hunger I feel, which makes me realize how often I eat for other reasons.
There have been a few moments where I’ve really had to call upon my powers of resistance. Last time I did this (or any) kind of cleanse, I did not have kids, so I was not fixing anybody a grilled cheese sandwich, or being offered a cookie from the basket at music class. I did not have to go to the grocery store and buy bagels or juice or bread. I did not wake in the morning to the aroma of toasting waffles.
So, I’ve had to say no a lot. Which is okay, I suppose. But it makes me wonder about a lot. Like, why am I doing this? I’m really not into denying myself things, especially at this point in my life, when it feels like it takes a lot of rigamarole (e.g. childcare) to have the time, energy, wherewithall to give to myself. So why cut out more things I actually like?
I’m trying to think in terms of “giving myself health.” Sometimes that flies, sometimes not so much, and I just feel kind of crabby.I also have these waves of self-doubt that knock me over. Besides “why am I doing this,” there are lots of questions about whether or not I’m doing it “right.” Do I feel so crappy because I’m detoxing or because I’m not taking the right supplements? Should I really not be eating nut butter or apples? What about rice?
Will I ever be able to stop taking drugs? I know it’s only been four days, but I think I expected more in terms of sinus relief. Also, I’ve been taking an antidepressant for about six months and am thinking about going off of it, but then I have these mood swings and think I better stay on. I’m feeling really stuck, emotionally. But that’s a whole nother post.
What all of this comes down to is not knowing my body. We’ve been so out of touch with each other for so long now, my body and me, that I feel like I’m lost in the wilderness with someone who only speaks Russian and we are both trying to figure out how to survive.
Nice to know someone out there might be reading the smoke signals.

I Want....

chocolate cake with white buttercream, the too-sweet kind that you get at the grocery store and Lindt dark chocolate truffles and a beer and a cigaratte and a bagel with cream cheese and a bowl of cereal and a grilled cheese sandwich and another beer and jelly toast and a reese's peanut butter cup and and and...

Day One

Before I go any further, I want to say thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read my blog. I know there are a million other things you could be doing, so I feel honored that you are choosing to spend your time here. Thank you.

So, I survived DAY ONE! The eating part wasn’t too bad, but my period started last night and I woke up with a migraine. I had wanted to be all ceremonial and centered as I sat down to eat my meals and take my supplements and drink my tea. But mostly I was in pain. I took a lot of drugs, which felt weird while trying to detox. But I was alone with my kids all day and felt like I didn’t have much of a choice. I will be interested to see if cleaning out my system has any impact on my hormonal headaches. That would be nice.

Here’s what I ate today: rice cakes with almond butter and apple slices – yum. Veggies and hummus; a salad w/ a chicken breast and a hard-boiled egg and guacamole; Thai-spiced salmon w/ asparagus and half a sweet potato. Sounds pretty good, huh? None of it was too hard to prepare, either, so that made it easy. The fish was in the freezer, and so was the asparagus, so that took all of ten minutes to make, and the chicken breast had been grilled last night. It did take a lot of forethought though, which I am not used to.
It was pretty amazing to notice how often I wanted to just put something in my mouth. I had my mid-morning sweet craving; I wanted to munch on something before lunch; I almost popped the last few bites of E’s peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my mouth without even thinking about it; Gave C a handful of raisins at one point and could have easily had a few myself. And now, after dinner. Always have to have something sweet. So as I write, I’m nibbling my unsweetend carob chips and sunflower seeds. Not exactly Cherry Garcia ice cream, but it’s somewhat satisfying.
Well, I promised myself early bed tonight b/c of the headache, which is still there. I will write about our very SUCCESSFUL garage sale soon.
Thanks for tuning in…

Still Stuck on "When"

I’ve been obsessing about when to start the cleanse. I was thinking the 21st, Friday, since that’s the solstice, it’s the first day of the garage sale, and I’m supposed to get my period. Seems ceremonial and right and meaningful.
But then, secretly, part of me also had this idea of the garage sale being the kind of thing where you have coffee and donuts while you’re waiting for people, (or collecting money), and then afterwards you order a pizza.
But then I thought, I can get over that. There’s no reason I can’t have fun running around setting up, keeping track of money and the kids and the stuff and people while also eating…. what, exactly? Then I really started to think about what I could eat that would be on the diet that would not involve a lot of cooking and prep and I got all freaked out again.
But then I thought, what is the big deal? This is what I want to do, what it feels like my body needs so why not just begin. Now. Today.
But then, I don’t happen to have much buckwheat flour and stevia on hand at the moment and I don’t have time to go buy and then roast a chicken and Brussels sprouts between now and dinner.
I’ve been trying to look at the reality of what it will mean to eat in this way – with forethought and preparation – without denying the difficulty of it or getting overwhelmed by it. It’s a tricky balance.
When I first decided I wanted to do this, which seems like a while ago now, I thought I would be a few weeks in to the cleanse by the time we had the garage sale. Since I still haven’t started yet, I’m already feeling behind, although I don’t know whose time-frame I’m working with or how I came up with these dates to begin with. Also, having started a few weeks ago would have meant that by now I would already have achieved some level of detox, clarity and deep emotional insight, and therefore the moment when I actually got rid of the STUFF at the garage sale would somehow be more “spiritual.”
Wow – now that I have articulated that it seems pretty crazy and I see how much I’m expecting of myself and of this whole process. Okay. Good to know.
Soooo, now I’ve decided that Sunday I can do some shopping and meal planning, and then on Monday, in a relaxed and calm manner, I can begin the cleanse. Maybe not ceremonial in the way I had originally envisioned it, but this way, it will be officially fall and the house will have been cleared. I’ll be working from the outside in.
Glad that’s finally settled.
Confession: meanwhile, while I’ve been “waiting to start,” I’ve had this whole Mardi Gras thing going on, like woo-hoo!! Better eat bagels while I can because pretty soon, they’ll be a no-no. (interesting that at a different moment in my life, “bagels” would have been “beer.” ) same with chocolate and ice cream and and and…
And so the longer this gets extended, the more c rap I’m eating, and the crappier I’m feeling, and I don’t even really want the crappy food any more, it’s just some kind of ritual I have to watch myself perform.

I think I’ll adopt, “okay. Good to know” as my mantra for the time being.

TA-DAAAH!!

We spent much of the weekend cleaning, organizing, and getting ready for the HUGE MULTI-FAMILY GARAGE sale. My mom took the boys on Saturday morning so I had a solid chunk of time during which no one was attempting to play with whatever toys I had just put in the SALE box.

Can you see the shine on the garage floor? My husband actually PAINTED it. That space was not that empty when we moved in here. The previous owners left some stuff stashed in the corners that we never got rid of and could not accurately identify. My guess was gardening whatsits and some tubing (with which one does what, exactly?). There is still some rattan furniture in the rafters which we did not manage to remove, but I’m thinking if anyone looks up there and offers to get it down, they can have it (although my husband jokes that that stuff is classic – they don’t make it like that anymore. We should set a high price. I say, we’d throw in whatever it’s infested with for free.)

Meanwhile, I was inside sorting and organizing. But not too much or Bella would be disappointed when she comes to help. How funny hat this huge pile of stuff actually feels like an accomplishment!
(Baby not for sale)

The Whens and Hows

I haven’t set an official start date yet for my cleanse to begin. Sometime in the next week, though. I think I’ve been waiting for things to slow down a little bit before I get going on the cleanse, but I’m realizing the “slow down” is never going to happen, which is part of the point of the whole thing – figuring out a way to be present and conscious in my life the way it is right now.
But we are just settling in to a routine, with my three-year-old starting a new school, which means he now goes five mornings a week, and my husband starting back with his teaching schedule. The two of us just returned from a trip to Montreal, and I didn’t want to be thinking too much about what I could eat or not while we were there. And now I’ve been going through all the closets and toy baskets, etc. in preparation for the garage sale, which is next weekend. In the midst of all of this, I haven’t had too much time to think about the new food plan. (I’m going to resist calling it a “diet.”)
To give an impression of how long it’s been since I’ve done this, the Web was just starting, I think, the last time. Or at any rate, I wasn’t using it much, so I wasn’t looking to see what kind of recipes or meal plans and whatnot were available on line. There are TONS, and I’m overwhelmed.
Last time, I was under the care of a chiropractor, who had his own version of the candida diet, and that’s what I followed. This consisted of brown rice, most vegetables, fruits and meats, and eggs. No corn, citrus, melon or pork. No dairy or other grains. And lots of vitamin supplements, formulas to boost the immune system and kill off the candida, which he sold.
Some of the other versions that I have looked up on-line allow some dairy but no fruit. Others say oatmeal is okay, or buckwheat or quinoa. Some allow nuts and nut butters, but some don’t. Legumes are also controversial.
There is one plan that talks in terms of stages, the first “stage,” lasting three months, is the most limited. But during stage one you can have one portion of a stage two food, and either a level one vegetable or a level three fruit.
My god. By the time I figured out what I could eat, I’d have fallen off the stage all together. And then what level would I be on?
And then there are the vitamins. Entire industries have sprung up around eradication of candida. Some companies sell vitamin formulas and on-line support, which you have to pay for. Others are only vitamins, but you have to become a selling agent before you can buy them. Most that sell vitamin formulas boast that they are the one true candida-ridding formula, and that all the others are a scam. There are separate websites which discuss one or the other formula, claiming that “the other one” doesn’t work, and that, this is a real, ordinary person writing this, and not a paid employee of the company. Hmm… sounds a little suspicious to me.
So, how do I know what will work best for me? What I did the last time worked well, and I felt good while on it. So why not just do that?
To be honest, the thought of being able to eat plain yogurt once in a while sounds pretty good, as does spreading almond butter on a slice of Wasa bread. So maybe I’ll choose a plan that allows that.
But that feels like cheating, or like I’m committing some kind of sin. Like I’m changing the rules of my religion to make it more convenient.
I know this is a crazy way to think, but that’s how it is. Many proponents of one or another candida diet are like evangelists. Each one states that theirs is the One True Diet, and that “cheating” will prolong your candida since candida thrives on the forbidden foods, and/or you’ll have to start all over. In other words, the devil’s gonna getcha and you’ll burn in hell.
Ideally, I could center myself, get in touch with my gut and find out what my body needs, but right now I’m so far out of my body that I can only figure it out from way out here. I feel like I need someone else to tell me, which feels like a very dangerous place to be.
So I’ve been scrolling through various recipe lists to get ideas of things to eat. Mostly I’m looking for fast-cooking, low prep kinds of things, regardless of which plan it’s in, but there aren't a lot of those, which is my current problem – grab what’s quick and easy, which is usually not what’s best for you.
Not too excited about seeing so many recipe titles with quotation marks in them. For example, Mashed “Potatoes” (it’s really cauliflower), or Mexican “Pizza” (ground up almonds mixed with water for the crust and rice cheese??) Creamy Nut and seed “Pudding.” I didn’t even look to see what that one was.
Now, these foods could be perfectly tasty, but let’s just call it what it is and not try to make it something else or we’re bound to be disappointed.
Then there are the 15-ingredient muffins. And these are not ingredients like cloves, cinnamon, and nutmeg that you can just grab off your spice rack. No. we’re talking Amaranth, Quinoa flakes AND quinoa powder, spelt flour, buckwheat flour, stevia, ghee, some other sweetener I’ve never heard of…
Beneath the text of the recipes, you have people’s comments (sometimes their pictures) about the recipes and slight adaptations they may have made. Like, “Hey Candione, I’ve been searching for a pumpkin quinoa loaf, and this really did the trick! I used a little less rutabaga because of my sensitivity, but it still tasted great! Thanks for sending this it!!! J”
Do I really want to do this?

And So It Begins

AND SO IT BEGINS
Well, I had a whole long post in mind for today having to do with stuff about the candida diet, but something more important happened yesterday: I started crying while unloading the dishwasher. There I was putting glasses in the cupboard and all of a sudden the tears started flowing. I had just read Bella’s post (I’ll put a link here as soon as I figure out how to do that) about Sarah moving out and the garage sale, and I don’t know – it just came.
That I felt emotional was not unusual. It doesn’t take much to make me want to cry. The thing that was different yesterday was that I actually let myself. I didn’t think, oh, I don’t have time for this, or oh, the kids will be up soon, I better not let them see me this way, or, oh, there’s too much – I’ll flood the kitchen. I just let the tears fall. And then, I actually Sat Down and cried. Just cried. Right there at the crusty kitchen table.
Then I got up and resumed unloading the dishwasher and cried some more, every once in a while pausing to let out a sob. And then E woke up and I went to get him and we went on with the day.
Crying while unloading the dishwasher just reaffirmed my need to do this whole cleanse thing. Already things are starting to release and let go, and I think it’s because I am moving into a more intentional space. A place of permission, of expansion. A place of being. I know, with the way my life is right now, that I could not get into that kind of space without having some kind of ritual, something to mark that I am moving into a different time.
I’ve been keeping so much right under the surface for so long now that it was bound to come spilling out, but I think what really got me going, after reading Bella’s blog, was all the stuff about endings and beginnings. How so much is ending for me right now:
This time of my life, my “child bearing years.” (what an awful phrase)
My kids’ babyhood. And I know everyone goes through this, to some degree. I guess I resist talking about it or even articulating it to myself b/c it is so damn cliché and hallmark. But when it’s actually happening to Me, it’s deep and profound. And so yes, there are the teeny socks and the crib sheets and the Easter outfit. There are also the toys they never played with, and it occurred to me earlier that part of what’s ending is the part where I didn’t know who they would be. I didn’t know if C would enjoy the car track, or whether or not E would have fun with the bowling set. I had no idea who these people were, and now I do.
Knowing I’ll never go through that again. And I know I don’t want to, and that I’m making a choice in not having any more kids, which I think is a good choice. But it’s not without pain and a sense of loss, and also some ambivalence. I spent a long time thinking I didn’t want any kids, then just one. Then I had my second and all of a sudden I wanted a third. Right away. It was crazy, but that’s how I felt. But as the hormones started to fade, and the reality of my life sunk in, I knew it would not be wise.
Still, I had been surprised that I had even the fleeting desire for a third (a girl?). I think, really, if I had started sooner, I would have had more. I don’t think I’ve ever really let myself be sad about that. So there is that loss and that sadness, and even the baby that I wanted for a while but who will not be. (again, most likely.)
And my time with C. He’s in school five mornings a week now, and it’s still kind of achey. Like when he asked if there is school tomorrow, and then if there is school the day after that and I said no, that’s Saturday and he said, “okay, good. Then we’ll have time in the morning to play with all the stuff in the yard.” So here he is, starting to schedule his playtime.
I let some of that bubble up and come out, and it felt good. Even so, there was part of me that held back, thinking that I wanted to wait until I knew I would not be interrupted. But, I’m beginning to realize that time will never be, so I have to take it when it comes. I always think, later, in the bathtub, or when I’m writing, I’ll let it out. But as I sat down to write this, I did not cry.
So, again, gotta take it as it comes. Maybe I’m beginning to get that, just a little bit. In the midst of all the endings, a beginning. Today I allowed myself to stop doing to let myself feel.

Why I'm Here

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WHY I’M HERE
Well, here I am, blogging. Honestly, I’ve never even read many blogs and now here I am, writing my own. It’s weird. I feel self-conscious and kind of silly but also like I want this to be perfect and profound and riveting.
But I’m willing to let that go, which is really what this is all about.
I’m about to embark upon a Cleanse. This cleanse, as I envision it, will involve some version of the candida diet, and along with purging my body of toxins and fungi, I am hoping to dump a lot of emotional waste that has built up over the past few years. Also, I’m having a garage sale. But more on that later.
I’m freaking out a little bit because I have undergone various cleansing dietary regimens before. I’ve done juice fasts ; I’ve been a vegetarian and a vegan; I’ve gone wheat-free and dairy free; I’ve tried the cabbage soup diet; I’ve done different versions of the candida diet; I’ve done the garlic, olive oil maple syrup cleanse.
That was all years ago, before I was married and had kids, when I was trying out different personas and figuring out who I was. When I was in massage school and serious about alternative health care. When I was on the road and concerned about karma.
The thing that makes me anxious about it now is that I know how easy it is for me to become completely obsessed with food – with what I can and can’t eat and want to eat but am not “allowed,” with whether or not I’m doing enough or too much of whatever it is I’m supposed to be doing. I know how the shopping and food preparing can take over my life, how finding the obscure grain or exact combination of vitamin supplements means many trips to the specialty and health food stores. And how, when it’s over, when the stated number of days or weeks of restraint has ended, there is always a backlash.
I now have a three year old and a one year old. This will have to be very different, because everything is different now. I don’t have the time or mental space to obsess, but I don’t really have the time or mental space to think about food at all – I just eat. I’ve made a few attempts since becoming a mother to regain some sort of consciousness about what I’m eating because I find that often, now, I spend a lot of the day mindlessly putting things in my mouth. I’ve tried to reign in my sugar consumption, and in an effort to get rid of my post-partum weight, I spent about three days on the Zone Diet before I gave up.
So. Why do I want to do this again now if I know I get crazy or might be setting myself up to fail?
I feel the need. And (maybe), I feel ready.
I suspect I have candida (for those who don’t know, candida is a systemic fungus that causes everything from yeast infections to fatigue to digestive problems to difficulty thinking clearly. It’s the kind of condition that many medical doctors don’t believe is real, while other practitioners think most people are walking around with it and don’t know it. There are various causes of candida, but long-term or repeated antibiotic use is a big culprit, along with a high-carb diet.) I don’t currently have a lot of the digestive issues that I’ve had in the past when I’ve had candida (although, generally, I’m prone to constipation). But last year, I had a bad cold that turned into an ear infection which turned into really bad sinusitis. I took antibiotics and then more antibiotics and then steroids. I’ve been on Allegra D and a steroid nasal spray for about a year. I’d like to get off of both of them, especially since they don’t seem to be working as well, and my sinusitis is coming back, which could be caused by candida.
I’ve had seasonal allergies for about fifteen years and started taking Claritin when it came out over the counter. Then I was taking it every day. I think I’m addicted to Sudafed. I feel like I always have fluid in my ears.
And there are other things. A toenail fungus that won’t go away. These weird little itchy bumbs all over my hands. I itch in places that one does not generally scratch in public.
All of which seems pretty fungal. And all of which, I know, hardly registers on the broad spectrum of physical ailments. But I know I could be feeling better than I do. I don’t know if it’s the drugs I’m on or the way I’m eating or being a mom, but I feel tired and sluggish all the time.
Additionally, along with all the physical symptoms, I’m feeling the need for an emotional release. I feel like I need to sit in the bathtub and cry for about a month. Over the past few years, since having kids, especially since my second child, I feel like I’ve built up a lot of grief. I’ve only just recently identified this as the feeling I’ve been walking around with for so long now. It’s mixed in with some other feelings that I can’t quite name yet.
Lately, I’ve had the sense that I’m ready to let go, or that I’ve finished with something. That these emotions have served their purpose in my life and in my body, and yet they’re still kind of hanging around. So I’m hoping that while detoxifying my body, my mind and psyche will also release what they no longer need.
Meanwhile, I’m having a garage sale. I know that probably seems random and unrelated, but it’s all part of the cleaning out process for me. An outward manifestation of what’s going on inside. So I’ll be getting rid of a lot of baby stuff, which is something I want to do and feel I’m ready for, but at the same time, I can’t even really think about it before tearing up. See? Right now – tears. It’s a way of making real that this part of my life has ended. (most likely. I have to put that “most likely” in there as a sort of caveat: Just because we’re selling the exersaucer doesn’t mean that should I happen to get pregnant, we can buy another one.)
So what about going crazy and getting obsessive and extreme? That’s what this blog is about. I’m hoping to have a place to process things, to deliberately articulate what I’m doing and what’s going on, so that when things get hard or painful or when I start to obsess, I’ll be able to release some of that energy here, and maybe even get support, too (although the audience part of this whole thing is still pretty vague and mysterious).
I’ll end for now.