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…