Category Archives: gluten free

Jun26

Migraine hell.

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I’ve always done it alone. And I was fine with that. Though, I couldn’t tell you how as I never remember much other than the puking. The constant puking and pain. Everything else is black.

Until this time when I had someone by my side.

Migraines are my invisible enemy & Wednesday I came down hard with one. I was out for 36 hours, dead to the world. My boyfriend claims to have spoken to me throughout the day but I don’t remember it. He took Evelynn the entire day and then planned on having to do so again yesterday (he skipped going to football practice) because he didn’t know what to expect. If I’d feel better or if I’d still feel like death. Yesterday, I still wasn’t 100% with a lingering headache that I had to work to manage.

My brain was in a meat pulverizer. It was like a construction crew was having a jackhammer party in my head. I couldn’t keep down anything, not even water. My body would overheat and then get hit hard with chills. I couldn’t stand up, I was dizzy, I was seeing spots. It’s wondering if death is a good enough answer just to end the pain—it’s not. But that’s the troubling thing with migraines: you want it to end as fast as possible by any means possible. There is nothing I can do except sleep. Looking at a screen makes it worse. Trying to keep hydrated just makes for more trips to the bathroom to puke. I go dark.

While I spent the entire day in bed, Andy took care of Evelynn. They washed both his truck and my car. They took the dogs for a walk and she rode her bike. She got dirty and played with mud. They did a bonfire and danced. She ate all her meals and earned herself some ice cream. He kept her happy and entertained.

I’ve had to skip major events for migraines. I’ve lost great friends from migraines. I’ve been verbally abused by past boyfriends due to my migraines cancelling their plans. I’ve had grades slip in college due to migraines and my attendance record alone. I’ve slept through days on vacation due to migraines. I’ve missed soccer games growing up due to migraines. I’ve left bachelorette parties early due to migraines. I’ve almost lost jobs due to migraines—my work ethic and communication helped me keep them, helped my employers trust me. I gave up going for my teacher certificate because I couldn’t sub more than 3 days in a row without getting a migraine. I once chopped my hair because I heard that could help. I once gave up lentils (yes that means peanut butter, too) because I heard that could reduce headaches. I once went on a migraine med and ended up pregnant because it interacted with my birth control despite original assurances it wouldn’t—8 months after giving birth there was a “new finding” that the med I had taken was reportedly making birth control pills ineffective.

Since finding out I’m celiac and going gluten free, I’ve had far fewer debilitating migraines. Where I used to have them for 2-5 days 2-3 times a month, I now only get the excruciating crushing ones a few times a year. Most people don’t know how to react. They can’t see it. They can’t feel it. It’s invisible. Some think I must be faking it. It’s extremely difficult for anyone who doesn’t experience such crushing and debilitating migraines to not be annoyed with me for disrupting their day. Reality: it’s my hell. I not only have to battle the migraine but then I will have to also defend myself.

Today with the migraine gone and the post lingering headache gone, I’m feeling unbelievably blessed to have a man who took it upon himself to watch Evelynn for a day without complaints. Thank you babe.

May1

The Double C’s of Dating—You’re Failing.

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I haven’t been dating. I’ve been on the apps and engaging in conversation but that is where it ends. The other day I was asked to participate in a survey and one of the questions was, “What are your hesitations with dating?” It made me pause for a hot second. Took the weekend for me to respond because I knew already knew the answer. I had been thinking about the concept for a couple months. I’m open to dating, I’m hesitant in taking any action.

Dating today is no longer consistent. People come and go. It’s all about attention in the moment. I get stood up a lot because these guys don’t seem to care about dating, they just want you to say yes.

And I want nothing to do with that type of dating scenario.

When guys ask me out, I don’t take them seriously anymore. I don’t get excited. I don’t get stressed. I hardly even plan for it. I’m just like, “Okay, yes,” it’s not like you’re actually going to make it happen anyway. Seriously. That’s literally my vocal and internal response and dialogue. Here’s the thing: the date never happens.

Whatever happened to someone asking you out with a date and time and place in mind. Now, it’s all “Hey want to go out sometime?” “Yeah, I’d love to.” ………silence……….

It’s so very annoying. That lack of preparation highly suggests a lack of enthusiasm. I want to date a guy who wants to fucking date me. Not just go through the motion because it’s expected and we’re both single. No, I want a date where the dude is genuinely interested.

That is, if they ever actually plan on showing up.

I no longer accept dates from guys who are inconsistent in talking. Guys who talk one week every day and then silent for a few weeks and then back again a couple days. Like, no. you’re either interested or you’re not. I don’t care about a busy schedule, it’s “Hello good morning, hope you have a great day!” and a “Hey how was your day?” It doesn’t need to be constant chatting 24/7, but I’m not trying to date a man who can’t be bothered. I also won’t date a guy who asks me out right out of the gates because those have a 100% success rate of standing me up.

Here’s the hypocritical thing: I can’t be bothered. I used to be on my phone so much at my previous gig that I would read a text and not respond because I didn’t have time to engage in conversation; only to forget about the text for 24 hours or until they texted me again. This wasn’t just for dating, this was for anything. Email I was golden on. Email I could own with prompt replies all day. Texting and calling, however, I was on my phone enough for my job that I didn’t want to be on there anymore as is. So when a guy asked me out and I realized I hadn’t been the best communicator or conversationalist, the thought was often followed with the sudden awareness that I simply wasn’t that interested. When I connected with a guy who I was interested with, I made the time to chat. I was busy as hell with a kid on my hip, one hand on the computer, standing at the stove cooking, and still texting with my friend hand. I could have a full schedule and still make the time if I wanted to. Sometimes, there were exceptions but rule no. 1 of controlling your life: embrace the chaos. Rule no. 2: make what you want happen.

When you want to talk with someone and get to know someone, you make the time. There’s no if, ands, butts about it.

Here’s the other thing I often notice: who engages the conversation.

Seriously, if I’m talking with someone and I realize that if I don’t text him first every day then we don’t talk, well, we stop talking. It’s hilarious to me when guys assume this means I’m upset with them after a few hours or a couple days go by when sometimes I’m just too busy and running behind on my day. However, I make my own assumptions too, especially when I let it go—you realize something: disinterest. No matter how great the conversation flowed, it’s hard to remain interested in someone who doesn’t text you unless you text them first.

And don’t get me started on this “Well, I texted you last” bullshit. Honey, this is not high school anymore. I don’t care if you send me 7 texts in a row because some days I was swamped with meetings or some days I’m juggling errands and I do not text and drive so it’s a few hours before I ever respond. And let’s not forget the aforementioned part where I will read a text and promptly forget for hours when I’m busy. No, you don’t sound crazy. You sound like you had something to say and damnit, why not fucking say it? Life’s short to worry later about, know what was that thing I wanted to tell them?? I hate wasting my time on those. I’ll blow a friend up all in one day because I had a million things flying through my mind and before I forgot them I decided to just text what I had to say and we can talk about them later when they’re free. Why is this so complicated?

Maybe I am the crazy one.

Consistency in dating. Consistency is key in anything you want to get results from—fitness, health, career. Why are people so inconsistent in showing interest in someone? I don’t do well with talk. I want the proof.

If a guy asks me out with no plan in mind and without taking time to talk to me, I lose interest. I literally stare at my phone like, is this mofo serious? He wants me to agree to a date without knowing when and where? DUDE. BRO. BRAHHHHHH.

I’m out.

Even if I might not be able to go to the restaurant offered for lack of a celiac friendly menu or can’t do the day initially suggested because I’m mommying it up, at least there’s effort involved. If the guy is going to halfass asking me out, he’s likely going to halfass any relationship. Suddenly, I’m no longer interested. That’s not a relationship I want. Besides, here’s the reality, the things in the beginning are going to be there at the end. Those signs and red flags are in fact smoke signals, foreshadows of the end and how little any dating will last. Those nuances in the beginning, though little, might be something one can’t overlook later once the “honeymoon” phase—or whatever people are calling it these days—is over.

I know me well enough that while I’m quiet and an introvert and not one to talk on the phone ever, communication and effort are key. Without them, I’ll be bored in a week.

And then there’s the guys who ask for my snapshot and not my number. Like seriously, WHO ARE YOU TRYING TO HIDE ME FROM? Oh the sweet joys of dating. And then, since the evolution of dating apps, I don’t think I’ve ever been asked out by a guy calling. Never. Not even guys who ask me for my number at the bar. It’s always via text message. And while I’m not usually a nitpicking person but this is something that I notice. I’m expected to meet up with a guy for a date without ever hearing his voice. I’d like to at least know if he’s one of the weirdos who pronounces “milk” funny.

Tip: If you’re going to ask a girl out, at least show you care. Don’t act like she’s only an option right now that you’re already planning on dismissing. Ladies, same thing goes to you. This ain’t no one-way street bullshit. Consistency and communication: it’s the double C’s. You can’t open the door to a relationship or dating happily without them.

Apr30

Keep Going.

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You can excuse yourself and still never give up. It’s not about your excuses, it’s about pushing, perseverance, resilience, and CONSISTENCY. Even if it’s hitting pause or slowing it down.

Hit pause. Slow down.

Then keep going.

My biggest pet peeve with past coaches was when I was having a blown asthma attack and they would yell at me to move my ass and stop giving excuses. I could run a 6-minute mile with an asthma attack at the end forcing me to walk a stretch before finishing strong. I made up my sprints after others were done and the attack passed. I had limits, I worked with them and I pushed them when I could. However, my coach’s expectations because I was a “child” were beyond unrealistic. I never pushed myself for them or because of them, I’m pretty sure I fought with them more than anything. I pushed for me.

I also hated when coaches would ask me, “What’s your excuse today?” because my physical therapist, for example, didn’t want me doing cleans with my shoulder—I always later dislocated it. It never changed: my therapist was very clear I was not to do that movement. I was hypermobile with little strength. It was a move I’d have to strengthen with other exercises, not something I would just jump into for a physical test, and nothing ever weightbearing. Tearing something was a big worry.

I don’t care about your excuses. We can work with your excuses. Excuses are part of life.

I’m a mom, sometimes I have to excuse myself from activities because I LOVE being a mom and that’s worth more. It’s an excuse to others; it’s my reality. My greatest achievement. Sometimes, I work long hours. Again, not an excuse when chasing dreams. I won’t try intermittent fasting despite health benefits some people claim—I have very, very low blood pressure. It’s not safe for me. This is not a method I will use for “more energy” because for people like me, it can do more harm than good. I’m gluten free because of celiac disease. Some people get annoyed that I have a limited menu and restaurant options to choose from. Confession: I like this restriction most days, it forces me not to go through the McDonald’s drive-thru when their fries are calling. I will accept this excuse all day—it helps hold me accountable.

It’s not about your excuses, it’s about what you do with them and how you allow others to perceive them.

Do they hold you back from what you want or do you overcome them? Do you let them control you or do you embrace them and push through? Do you find ways to make things work, no matter how many attempts it might take you? Are they a status of your life or are you using them to reconcile missing out on living your best life without trying to make things better?

That is the only excuse I care about. Stop missing out. Stop holding yourself back.

If you live a life with no excuses, honey you’re not living. At some point, you will embrace what someone else considers an excuse because you are damn proud of who you are. You are a mom and for one night, going to your son’s soccer game means more than stressing over getting a workout in that day. Take the day off. You are a sister and haven’t seen your family in months, take the weekend off. Eat all the homemade meals. Your wrist kills and can’t handle doing a pushup. Work up that strength. Take time to do it properly instead of further injuring yourself.

Confession: I have the Ann Arbor Art Fair butting right into Faster Horses for a long 4-day weekend this summer and I don’t plan on working out one bit for those 4 days because I will not stress myself out over scheduling and I will not stress myself out over using the communal gross showers. Instead, I have had my workout schedule planned all the way through that weekend since before April. That’s right, my March through July workout schedule is already set. Some might see that fun weekend as an excuse to ridicule—honey I’m grabbing on to it with both hands, it’s my reward for my dedication and consistency. It’s my reward for persevering.

If you live a life with no excuses, then all you’re doing are the motions without the why behind them. Eventually, years will pass and you will realize you wanted to take that one saturday off for donuts and beer festival with great company, lie on that beach one weekend to read one more book, skip a class to see Garth Brooks perform one last time. You have to prioritize what makes you happy with what makes you healthy to enjoy the most out of your life. Do you want to hike mountains or claim the couch cushion? Do you want to watch your daughter’s first ballet performance or train for your half marathon? Do you want to do yoga at sunrise or drinks to celebrate someone’s birthday at sundown? Prioritization and organization. You do what you can, and slowly you build it up and increase what you can do.

So hit pause. Maybe rewind. Maybe a little replay with a new DJ. Maybe slow down, reevaluate and reposition. Know the difference between giving an excuse and giving up, and know when an excuse can turn into giving up.

“Never confuse a single defeat with a final defeat.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald.

“Keep going.” – ME.

 

Apr22

Just this once.

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Confession: I roll my eyes every time someone says, “No Excuses.”

It’s not a concept I can get behind. I 100% support it if it’s the mantra one person uses to keep a promise to themselves and to reach their goals. If it makes sense to them for them, I’m all about it. Otherwise, I snuff my nose at the phrase when someone uses it to motivate others, as if they’ve walked in their shoes.

I don’t participate in the whole nature vs. nurture debate because as far as I can tell, it seems pretty obvious both impact your journey and every day you make choices. Ever go down that whirlpool of, what if I left my house 5 minutes earlier? What if I took this street instead? What if I hadn’t chosen this college to attend? What if I hadn’t stepped into this coffee shop? What if the DJ had chosen to play a different song? What if I didn’t buy this bottle of wine? The questions can be endless. Does the outcome remain the same? I think it’s most remarkable when looking at twins—they have the same environment but their thought patterns can be different.

Nobody is the same. Nobody thinks the same. Nobody faces the same experience, in the same manner, at the same time, with the same history for them to process the experience the same way. When I hear statements made like “No excuses” or “If I can do it, you can do it,” I become speechless. I stare at the words or the person speaking them. I have no response. These are not my mantras.

I never tell someone they can do something because I did it. It’s not that I don’t believe they can do it—they can—it’s because I believe they can do it simply because I believe in them. I was brought up through experiences that made me strong—strong-willed and stubborn—and with an outlook that if I want to make it happen, I can. It’s that simple for me. It might take time, pain, and many failures, but if I want to overcome something, I can. However, I also understand that life happens that could derail these plans and goals.

I’m a single mom with a good career who stays active—not every single mom gets lucky to have the support to do this. The amount of times I’ve had to call in to my previous job and now my current job because of Evelynn being sick or me having a migraine, and me keeping that job, blows my mind. Every time I’ve made that call I’ve worried it’s going to be the nail in the coffin, and I envy couples who can share these days or have a stay at home parent to more easily accommodate—not everyone has this. Some employers are very strict about time off or working from home, some jobs don’t accommodate working from home, then there’s the folks who live off tips for income.

I refuse to tell someone that just because I can find time to dedicate to my fitness, they can too. The reality is I struggled a lot. There were days I had to make compromises instead of excuses. Currently, I live on the rule “I get one day off from working out in the week, use it wisely.” If I have to take more than that, I refuse to double up the workouts for that day because they weren’t designed to be doubled up, they were designed with a rest. My bonus cardio workouts I don’t ever include in the formula—those are bonus for a reason and not part of my program.

And sometimes life gets in the way. I had to overcome a lot to tell myself, “No, you are doing this now.” Thursday night, I didn’t want to workout but I had to ask myself, “Do I want to take two days off this week from the program? Will I be happy with myself if I do or will I beat myself up for it wishing I had just pushed play?” I knew Saturday I wouldn’t be able to do the cardio flow workout that’s scheduled because my parents don’t have wi-fi. I had already scheduled it for Sunday, my normal “rest” day (if I want to take a rest day). I knew two days off I would regret. So, I buckled up and got it done. And to be honest, Sunday night when I got home, I didn’t want to work out at 7:48 p.m. either.

Saying No to sweets and Yes to healthy options, wasn’t easy. It came with learning that the unhealthy food came with unhealthy feelings. I love burgers, LOVE burgers, however, I learned that while a burger made me want to skip my to-do list and pass out or down 3 drinks and then deal with a hangover the next day, a salmon with roasted asparagus and seasoned red lentil noodles portioned right made me feel well-nourished and like I could tackle the day.

I’m not a fan of going out every weekend. I love waking up, sipping on my coffee, getting in a yoga flow, and just flying through my to-do list, even if it’s reading an entire book and chilling out the rest of the day. Why? It makes me feel good. Hangovers—not so much.

Not everyone can do this easily. Saying “No” and “Just Doing” mentality didn’t happen overnight. It happened after months of practice and consistency. It happened when I figured out my why—whyI wanted to eat healthy, workout 6 days a week, and focus on my health. Why it was important for me to say No to that which didn’t help me and Yes to that which made me happy—I also had to determine what made me happy.

Do I still have slip ups? You bet. After being stood up so many times the first few months of the year, I gave up puppy chow for lent. I was eating popcorn for meals so much that I gave it up for lent, too. Lent kicked my ass into gear when I knew what I needed to do but also needed a little extra motivation. Reality was I could have portioned the puppy chow and popcorn somehow into the balance of my diet, but I don’t like eating that much sugar and junk cereal. If it makes me happy and I had 87% control of the rest of my health, it’s fine to indulge (my theory for my body). However, I didn’t want that 13% to revolve around puppy chow popcorn every day. I like the occasional donut, bacon for breakfast, extra pancake with the maple syrup, dairy free butter on my sweet potato, red meat, White Claw, and there’s the whole lack of sleep thing some nights. I like my balance options.

Balance doesn’t exactly fit into the whole No Excuses mentality. Does it? I can’t see it.

The amputee who runs a marathon. The person who was confined to a wheelchair for the rest of their life but was able to beat all odds and walk again. These have been deemed No Excuse examples. These are strong will, strong mind and body. There are individuals who dedicate everything to overcome an obstacle that has a less than one percent chance of beating and yet are still unable to. I think you can do anything with a strong mindset and will power, but you also need the right tools and support, and sometimes those tools are dependent entirely on your body. I will not use No Excuse because I will not degrade the hard work of individuals who give everything but still get nothing. I will also not degrade those individuals who did beat unspeakable odds and made it happen for themselves—that’s extraordinary, not the normal. Saying anyone can do what they did seems to defeat the odds they beat, and simultaneously insults those who weren’t able to do so.

That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go all in.

Go all in like you have the winning hand. Go all in like you have a straight flush. Chances are, you’re winning but then, sometimes, you might just end up in a game where someone else holds a royal flush. That’s life. You know what happens? You get dealt another hand.

Like poker, you don’t know what hands others are dealt. Simply because you have a winning hand now doesn’t mean your initial hand was applaud worthy or your first game brought attention.

An ex tried using the No Excuse mentality on me to have me do a push up. He didn’t believe me when I said my back was poor and my shoulders were even worse. That I hadn’t yet built up the strength. What happened? I did the pushup, heard a crunch, a flush of what felt like extremely warm liquid heat flowed through my shoulder blade area and I was in pain for days. I should not have done that pushup. Now, after a very scripted workout regimen and complete focus on form along with gradual increase in weights I’m lifting, I can do consecutive pushups with no pain. I didn’t get here because someone manipulated me into doing it by saying, “You want to do them again? Do them right here right now, no excuses.”

Sometimes those excuses aren’t excuses, they’re someone’s reality. Just because it’s not your reality doesn’t mean it isn’t someone else’s. I 100% believe in moderations, and if someone complains to me about not being able to do something without trying and failing at all odds, then I might push back on them. I won’t ever tell them, “Well, you said you wanted it, no excuses. Run 5 miles.” No, it’s, “Well, if you really want it then let’s make it happen.” Mindset. They know their body, they live in their body; I do not.

Let’s play the hand we’re dealt. And next hand, we’ll shuffle the deck because our hands will constantly be changing throughout our lives. Know when to fold and when to go all in—I hope you go all in every time, there’s always the next hand. But sometimes, just sometimes, the risk of losing is greater than the chances of winning. Sometimes excuses, aren’t something to slyly look over.

What does it sound like when I push someone or myself when working out?

Is it painful or are you just sore? Burns so good. That’s you living honey, keep going. This is less than 5% of your day. That’s all you have to give me. You get the other 95%, I get these 60 minutes, your body gets these 60 minutes. Five percent. Give five percent of your day every day to fitness and you are already on the ready to a healthier you. Progress baby. If it’s not burning, if you’re not working for it, it’s not working for you. Push harder. You can do this. If you stop now, will you look back and say, “Damnit, I wish I would have finished out these last 3 reps?” Don’t regret exercise, feel satisfied. If you need to drop down a weight, drop it but let’s finish it up. Let’s finish this strong. Those lungs are breathing, those legs are burning because they’re happy to live and they’re capable. You are capable. And if you’re not feeling capable to give more today, if you know you won’t regret stopping now, you will be capable tomorrow because you pushed yourself today. 

Sometimes, I’ve been known for just yelling, “Go, go, go, go! Almost done ladies, let’s do this! 5 more to a healthier you! 5-4-3-2-1 YESSSSSS!!! You did it! How fucking proud of you are you??”

Pushing that hard isn’t for everyone, and sometimes, even myself, I’m so dead by the end of the workout it takes me twice as long to finish the reps because I refuse to do proper form but I don’t want to give up. It’s not No Excuses, because for many in that predicament, it might be best to end it and no risk damage or injury. For me, I know my limit, though, and it’s a, “Do you feel like you will die? Do you feel hurt? Or are you just fatigued and need to slow down? Will you be happy with your performance when you’re done?” And damnit, I love the finish line.

Not once did I say, “No Excuses” to push forward or to go all in.

I have a habit of saying, “Just say no” to people despite knowing it’s not easy. Don’t want the extra slice of pizza? Just say no. Want to make it to the gym tomorrow after work? Just go. Want to eat more veggies and less fried food? Just do it. It’s an easy concept but not easily done. I know this. And while it’s not always easy for me, I would argue it’s easier for me because of how I grew up. I saw sacrifices made, I saw the value of health and an active lifestyle, I witnessed the reality of cutting cold turkey is the easiest process. Watching Taylor, not having the experiences or luxuries that others had, I grew up gaining different values and a high respect for health.

Finding out I was celiac and couldn’t have gluten anymore, I had no choice. I had to give it up for my health or I faced bigger issues than fatigue, migraines, underweight, constant nausea down the road. I found out that when you decide something firmly and you do it, you just do it. There’s no other process. I found out that while I was a single mom but I also later decided I was going to chase a career and make both a priority, that I just had to do it. There’s no other option. It was either I wanted it and let it be a pipe dream, or I chase the fuck after it like I owned my dream and make it into my reality. I just did it. Some days I don’t quite make it, and that’s okay. That’s human nature not to have 100% perfect all in days—some hands we have to fold on.

It’s not, “Just say no” or, “Just say yes.” It’s, “Just say no this once” or “Just say yes this once.” Because once you show yourself you can do it this one time, you realize you’re capable of doing it. The second time is easier until what you thought was unimaginable becomes second nature and routine. And for the very few times you fall off, you know it’s easy to get right back on again the next opportunity you have because you’ve already proven to yourself you can.

Turn “Just this once” into your habit.

Apr5

Temple.

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I’m a firm believer the body is an amazing vessel.

Vessel: a hollow container.

We decide how we fill ourselves up. We decide how we work the body we’ve been given.

Adrenaline can block out pain. The mind can “delete” a traumatic event. We can breathe without thinking about the action. We teach ourselves how to walk, how to get up when we fall down. We determine if we want to keep going, keep pushing. We decide when enough is enough. We decide how to talk to ourselves. We have an intricate system that simultaneously works together to give us life and it’s often up to us to determine how. We decide our boundaries and how to push our limits, we decide how to fuel our bodies, we decide how to manage our time.

Did you know that men who can do 40 pushups in a minute are at a significantly less risk for a heart attack?

Did you know that working out regularly helps with anxiety because the increased heart rate is the same, you’re teaching your body how to handle and control and accept the stress of that fight or flee inclination that comes with panic?

Did you know that celery juice, as little as 4-6 oz. a day, can help combat autoimmune disease symptoms?

I could go on. There are options. The above aren’t law, they’re just a few things that can help promote optimization and longevity, overall health. You have a choice.

Me? I choose activity and nourishment. Despite day 3 of a migraine, I chose to move. I feel like an expert in migraines; how I could write a novel about the various degrees, triggers, and remedies. But not all remedies work. Sometimes, it’s because of my body. Sometimes, it’s just a phase and I have to make the best of it.

TMI: The shark hasn’t visited in months and next week is the scheduled dive in the ocean. It happens—my body is changing. I’ve gained weight, muscle. It’s thrown my hormones. That’s normal for some women. I am one of those women. In December, I had gluten contamination, which can also throw off the regularity of womanhood. So, this week, my body has been given a warning with migraines that can’t be dismissed but CAN (sometimes) be tamed.

Medicine hasn’t helped and food sounds disgusting. My brain refuses to shut off—that’s a hell in itself, it literally will not stop thinking; about what’s next, creating ideas and plans for work, or scripting a blog, poem, or novel. My brain doesn’t have an off switch when my body craves activity. Body and mind both crave stress, to be nurtured by movement. And to prevent this movement, I’ve got about 13 crews of construction workers jackhammering around in my head, while it feels like my head has been put in a vice. It’s compressed. Cold, fresh air feels good on my head. But it won’t shut off. I can’t take naps easily. So, I did 2 rounds of mini yoga sessions (20-30 minutes) each day during this migraine and for the subsequent hour or two, it helped. That compression eased up, the nausea held off, and 11 of the crews took a break.

Don’t dismiss endorphins. Don’t dismiss activity. Yoga worked my body but calmed my mind.

And because I know what some of you are thinking reading these symptoms, no, I’m not “with child.” The ER has already tested me twice because they refused to believe me back when I was sick all through December to February. This is just being an active woman making advancements with my body and health. I have to go through this phase to become healthier, and I can tell you, compared to other migraines in the past, this one was manageable and that’s saying something.

Nobody said it was easy living but for me, it’ll be a healthy life because my body isn’t just a vessel, it’s a temple. Fill it with gold.

Mar20

Moving for the climb up.

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I am strong. If there’s one thing I am that I know people recognize me for because they’ve told me passionately, it’s that I’m strong. Hell, I’m fairly confident someone would suggest it to go on my tombstone somehow or in my obituary. But I didn’t always believe it about me. It wasn’t a trait I often associated me with. I thought they were crazy. I thought they weren’t privileged enough to see inside my mind and heart. I thought they were blind to the chaos surrounding me. I thought they were neglectful to the tears I sometimes shed in pain and sadness.

I was wrong.

You don’t go through heartache and have a voice without being strong. You don’t get knocked down and stand back up without being strong. You don’t push forward or move on without being strong. You don’t recognize sadness and make moves to become happy without being strong. You don’t become the queen at bouncing back without being strong.

I’ve questioned myself and my strength more than someone ever should over the years. I’ve doubted myself. I’ve wondered if I’m just being stubborn and should instead move on. I’ve pondered over how I’m able to keep going and why I haven’t just given up.

Part of this, I will recognize, is due to this stupid belief that thinking positively about myself is conceited or annoying to others. I fucking hate that.

Mindset.

For me, it all comes down to mindset. I was lucky enough to somehow be raised over the years in environments that nurtured mental strength. I was lucky enough to meet people who believed in me just enough for me to not stop, who were mindful enough to articulate their belief in me at the moments I needed to hear it most. I was lucky enough to witness my brother’s survival through the years and him continuing to laugh and share smiles with the world despite all his handicaps and diagnoses and limits.

I’m a firm believer that “depression” is often an overused term and mislabeled. Depression is a chemical imbalance in the brain. It’s an extreme sense of loss and helplessness. It’s overrated. I have a hard time trusting people who toss it out there to describe a temporary feeling when really the terms they’re looking for are sad or unhappy. In our quest to accept and normalize mental disorders, we’ve disassociated ourselves from recognizing a feeling as just a feeling. We want to attach it instead to a very troubling—depression, in its proper form and diagnosis is extremely troubling, debilitating, crippling, and heart wrenching, leading to loss of interest and inability to function—issue that many folks go undiagnosed with until it’s too late. However, sadness and unhappiness are feelings we can overcome if we choose to. Failure, stress, grief, tragedies are not one-way streets to the road of Depression. They might be the trigger, for some, but they are not the deciding factor.

I can’t get behind this notion that just because life isn’t going someone’s way or moving at the speed they imagined or aren’t entirely happy with it, they are depressed.

No. Those are obstacles, predicaments, circumstances. That’s not depression. That’s a poor outlook and a negative, unhealthy mindset.

Depression is not a “normal” state we want to be. Having a spectrum of feelings is normal.

When I was pregnant with Evelynn, some people assumed I was depressed because I had migraines, was constantly sick or nauseous, read a lot, napped a lot, and had little appetite. To be honest, it wasn’t much different than the previous 24 years of my life it seemed, except this time I had a little human growing inside me and I was bedridden. They wanted to cure me of a mental state when it was instead a difficult pregnancy and a physical state. Despite the difficulties and fear for the unknown, I was never entirely lost or felt helpless. I could see a future. It was, however unknown, tangible. Thenowmight have been a difficult timebut it never felt like the end of the world or like things could never get better.

Things got better because I persevered. I decided I was going to make a change. I decided to keep going.

After pregnancy, I still threw up. I remember asking my doctor, “Are you sure you missed like a twin or something? Because I’m still sick every morning and after every meal.” Seriously, that was my joke that wasn’t really a joke. I was so perplexed and scrambling for answers, I was damn near delusional. I was at a loss but I wasn’t lost. I was also seeing a hematologist to find answers regarding my low platelet count.

And then I heard about celiac disease. And after talking to numerous specialists from various fields throughout almost 3 years, I was firmly diagnosed. As firmly as you can with a disease where the testing is 20% inaccurate. Suddenly, the week-long migraines and daily puking and inability to gain weight on my 5’5” 115lb. frame devolved. Going gluten free and understanding celiac saved my health.

Fighting for me, knowing me, saved my mind.

The one and only gastroenterologist we saw, was a bitch—I don’t use this term lightly—before she even tested me for celiac. It was only 5 months after I heard about the disease. She told me NO based on the fact that I was the one who inquired with my doctor on the disease, despite that I had almost every single one of the symptoms and removing gluten from my diet was the only thing that had helped me in decades. I was a walking billboard for celiac flashing neon green to boot. She told me the tests came back with a firm negative and I could have gluten, I might just have a sensitivity. Years later I found out those tests were actually inclusive and given my symptoms and the fact that my platelet count had increased to the highest they had everbeen in my life by simply going off gluten, other specialists and my hematologist were very confident I most definitely have celiac disease. The hematologist even joked he would look into this further for his other patients he was having extreme difficulty diagnosing.

I don’t recommend self-diagnosing. I think most people do it out of paranoia. However, when we were told No by one doctor, it didn’t mean the others were also convinced it wasn’t. Conversations, knowing your body, asking yourself why you believe something—that’s key.

And for the record, celiac, because it can cause extreme fatigue, can show symptoms similar to depression.

I was never depressed. And I’m not afraid to admit when I’m sad—I hate to admit when I fail and I hate crying, there’s a big difference.

Last fall, I was sad. I was stressed but I was immensely sad. I couldn’t get control of my migraines again; they came like clockwork every Thursday, forcing me to work from home Thursdays and Fridays. I became sick and couldn’t get control of my workout routine—workouts are healthy and I’ve always been active. The endorphins they release are a natural anti-depressant. It also helps build your immune system. It’s also often my therapy. I felt overworked and undervalued. I felt unstable because I couldn’t gain control of anything. I was in a city with my only friends being coworkers who I rarely talked to outside of work. I felt alone. I felt like I was failing.

But I never felt lost or like there was nowhere up to go.

Failing, to me, does not mean an end. It just means something else, something better is best for me.

My favorite thing is recognizing you can only go up. There’s only growth. When you only have the best ahead, even if there might be more dips along the way. When there’s a gorgeous view to reach and take in, you have a beautiful future ahead. I think the climb up is a beautiful and amazing process. Recognizingthatis a key ingredient to a strong mind.

Most people hit rock bottom and think life is over, so they continuously allow rock bottom to become their sanctuary—that is depression. I didn’t hit rock bottom, not that time. I hit rock bottom years ago during a winter break in college and some subsequent semesters.

This was just a moment of sadness.

I was scared to make a move across the state to Grand Rapids but I didn’t let that fear of the unknown stop me.

When I first moved out of my parent’s house with Evelynn and to the Detroit area, the first time I was on my own fulltime with a child—who let that happen?—I was terrified. I was scared of possible migraines (not having them regularly always seems to foreign to me) and stress and finances and just staying alive. The always thriving independent part of me, however, was electrified. She was so excited for the freedom. So I made it happen.

I refused to be the one to stand in my own way. It was a healthy move—I needed that freedom and control of my own life.

That happiness of living in the area only lasted about 4 months. Instead of dwelling, though, I asked myself Why? Why was I suddenly so unhappy?You don’t need to pay a therapist to look within, you just need to have the mindset and strength and courage to ask yourself the hard questions. And allow yourself to recognize the answers instead of running from them or denying them. You need to accept them and then do somethingabout them—that’s another key.

For a girl who was considered crying a weakness, I bawled often. In the shower and in bed at night after Evelynn went to sleep. I have a habit of bottling up emotions and feelings until they pass. I don’t talk about my troubles well. I’m an introvert to the core.

I wasn’t okay with that state of feeling.

I looked around at my life in Detroit and realized everything that made me unhappy. I hated fighting with Evelynn’s overpriced school and stuck-up principal; loved the area and what it offered but it was missing something, compared to every time I visited Grand Rapids my heart sank when I left the city. I loved the challenges of my job but questioned the value and growth at the cost of me. I was upset up for every guy who asked me out but I wasn’t interested in; I felt like a bitch turning them down. I found myself constantly angry or annoyed over the smallest things. The city was wrought with heartbreaks for me and not feeling like enough.

And I wasn’t writing.

I’ve had one goal with a deadline for as long as I can remember: be a published author by the age of 30. I turned 29 in October and I hated that I wasn’t writing. Not poetry. Not one of the multiple books I had to start in college for various writing workshop assignments. Nothing but the occasional blog following a dating annoyance or travesty. I’ve damn near wrote more blogs so far this year than all of last year.

Despite how down or sad I felt, every day I told myself, “Today is a good day. My daughter is healthy and I’m alive. I’m able. I’m moving. I’m breathing. I can think for myself. Today I have opportunities. It’s all about my outlook. Mindset.” I might have been undeniably sad to the point where I couldn’t escape its recognition, but I also chose to look up. I wanted that climb.

I decided to take the unhappiness and fear and run with it. I embraced it. I changed jobs and moved across the state. I have even less time “off” as a single parent and for someone who enjoys being alone or spontaneous trips and adventures, that can be difficult to reconcile.

But I chose to move. I chose to recognize my capabilities, sought what I could change, and refused to let my circumstances or fear stop me. I chose to embrace the unknown and not let any fear define me. I chose to be strong. I chose me.

And honestly, choosing you is the happiest choice you can ever make.

Dec30

Bring on the Backbone.

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backbone blog2017 has been one hell of a rollercoaster year. For growth, personally and professionally, mentally and physically.

When I began the year, I was coasting primarily at about 120lbs., unable to keep my weight consistently up to a comfortable number, annoyed when people I hadn’t seen in years told me I looked great when I felt weak most days. Skinny, I can assure you, is not all it’s cracked up to be. I’m a size zero damn near a double 0. It’s a pain in the ass to find jeans or leggings that fit me, most shirts fit awkwardly, and I only buy from the junior department at Kohl’s. I can’t shop women sections anywhere—seriously, most don’t make them small enough for me. That all being said, I’m self-conscious of the slightest weight change, loss or gain. It’s one topic I despise: weight. Doesn’t matter if they’re talking about themselves, me, or someone else. I don’t mind giving healthy eating habits or exercising tips but anything beyond that I’m quickly annoyed by.

Skinny isn’t everything, it’s hardly anything. Fit not skinny is my goal and motto.

Yet, I’m constantly asking folks around me at work to lift shit or open shit for me. Let’s not talk about my stamina on the soccer field—pretty sure the asthma is back and here I thought I had outgrown it. The year started off well on working out regularly and at some point life happened and I couldn’t fit it in as well anymore.

My overall health is on the up, however. I found out I can’t have dairy, a symptom of being “diagnosed” with Celiac Disease so late in life and not going gluten free until I was 25 that lead so such an allergy. I’m sick less, fatigued less, and awake more. Not being able to work out, I focused more on my eating habits. As if my diet couldn’t become more high maintenance. I might be slightly neurotic when it comes to eating some days…or most days, whatever.

And I have to be crazy because when it comes to dating, my radar for finding great guys is impeccable…and I continue to blog about my dating life that has turned into a horror sitcom. The male species have taken everything out of me. I have let them run me down. Played for a fool a number of times. Gave a guy a second chance only to find out the reason he didn’t know what he wanted to do for New Years was because he was hoping for someone else to come along for him to spend it with. Seriously, his dating profile says, “be my new years kiss that sticks around.” Yeah, it came across my attention while I was visiting him. I was only a place holder for him—that’s a really great feeling to have. And if any of my blogs from this past year have proven anything, it’s that I’ve completely lost my backbone and self-respect.

At least when it comes to dating.

Professionally, I have a lot going for me. My boss is like the older brother I never wanted, and I work in an environment where I’m pushed to get better every day. I’ve grown a lot in my capabilities, expanded HFG on a new scale socially. All because of the support I’m provided at work, and that is a really great feeling, knowing I’m surrounded by team members who do care about the success of each other in addition to the company’s. While I’ve watched the company more than triple its size, I’ve also seen my baby (our social media) grow and expand. And yes, it’s seriously like my baby.

I have written enough poetry 2018 can be the year I seek publication. I’m not talking about in competitions or in magazines, I mean as an author of a compiled body of work. Wow. Blowing my own mind there—and you should blow your own damn mind once in a while.

My kid blows my mind every day, though. Being a mother has been the highlight that never fades, making the hard days easy. Knowing I’m a good mom is another great feeling, the fact that I can tune out any noise from anyone who thinks otherwise is assuring—I haven’t lost my self-respect there. In the last year, Evelynn has turned three, played in the ocean for the first time on her first vacation to Florida (yes, we actually took a vacation), started pre-preschool, and has come a long way in her speech. She’s advanced for fine motor and solving problems, doing puzzles. She’s also advanced in the act of being stubborn, fairly certain she might be the boss in this household.

Which brings me to 2018, the year we might move out and into our own place. Oh, you can definitely say I’m excited for next year. Bring it on.

Maybe I’ll even find that backbone.

Oct10

Portland Here I Come.

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I don’t know how to halfass anything. I’m known for being laid back & nonchalant but I’m also an all-in or forget it kinda girl.

Work. School. Dating. Parenting. Health.

I’m either jumping head first & drowning in the commitment or it’s not registering on my radar. I hold on for the long haul. On the rare occasion I decide to quit, I’m a bit dramatic: going all in with the sudden cold turkey, no looking back method.

Why? It works.

All three times I dropped out of college were snap decisions. (Don’t worry, I do have my degree.) It was like waking up to a blinking neon sign & that was all the clarity I needed. Forget the $20K in extra student loans I may have racked up in the process—regrets aren’t in my nature.

Quit gluten to test Celiac disease? No problem. Absolutely did not think that one through. I could have used a week to pig out on cheap greasy pizza & cinnamon twist donuts (not the rolls, come on). Okay, so I might regret that gung-ho approach some days.

Broke up with the baby daddy on a New Year’s Eve because I had to start the new year off right and I couldn’t be bothered to be with someone another second when I wasn’t into him. Not the most sensitive or considerate way I could have done it, maybe.

Wasn’t kidding about the dramatics.

Found out I was pregnant & “other options” didn’t mean jack to me. EJ may have been a complete shock & unplanned but an abortion never entered my mind. That second line appeared and I balled the Grand Rapids Grand River into flood zone—I was going to be a mom. A 180 would take place with my life & that excited me—committing wholeheartedly to the unknown.

Dating is the hardball of the group, though. I’ve never understood the dating multiple people at once unless it’s just in fun. I’ve always believed that if you meet someone worth your time, you don’t fuck it up. You don’t chase other guys. You don’t look for attention elsewhere. You don’t waste time & dates with guys you’re not really interested in. But maybe that’s because I value my time & hate wasting it. At the same time, I’ve always thought that if you aren’t willing to give up “the others” for someone, that person isn’t enough for you. It won’t last. If you have to think about your feelings—convince yourself—there’s a 99.8% chance he’s not going to last and keep your attention after another few months.

It’s your subconscious telling you you’re already bored.

I’ve always thought hesitation speaks volumes. You can find more truth in the silence.

& there’s a lot of hesitation when dating a single mom. You can imagine how I handle that.

Yet I committed wholeheartedly to accepting dating as a single mom would be no paradise and would rain hesitation. I should move to Portland.

Apr9

The False Fad.

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Gluten free is not a fad yet the market is exploding as more and more people request gluten-free options at restaurants and purchase gluten-free products in stores. Many of these people are not required to follow such a diet—they don’t have celiac disease or gluten sensitivity. Like other diet trends before, people are misconceiving gluten-free as a healthier option. Often times, unless they seek out information on the diet and are careful, the consumer lacks sufficient fiber, vitamins, and minerals. What is gluten? It is the proteins found in wheat, barley, rye, and oat. Abstaining from eating gluten is neglecting the other nutrients that gluten foods offer. So why are people going gluten free who don’t have celiac or gluten sensitivity? Gluten can be hard on the digestive tract. For some individuals, limiting gluten can help increase bowel movements and reduce constipation. For others, eating less gluten can lead to a decrease in migraines or fatigue. However, it is the misunderstanding of “gluten free” automatically meaning healthier that has lead most of the gluten-free diet population to refrain from consuming gluten.

Mid-January 2015, I came across a past coworker’s post on celiac disease. It had been a year since she was diagnosed with celiac. We used to constantly discuss fatigue, battle it out for who required more sleep, and regularly complain to each other of the weekly migraines we endured. I decided to look further into the disease.

Every year in high school, I was required to write a letter to the principle, requesting not to be held back due to absences and getting signatures from my teachers agreeing that I had the academic performance and grades to continue. Once, I missed an entire week of school due to a migraine. I’m fairly certain my professors in college assumed I was irresponsible or uninterested in their class. The absence policy in one class turned my A- into a D+. Friends were lost as I consistently cancelled plans due to migraines and fatigue. Bosses became annoyed as I often randomly called in to work sick. I grew up with a “weak” stomach. I didn’t gain weight during my pregnancy. A week before I was induced, I quit Jimmy John’s—my coworkers never knew I was pregnant, the tiny belly bump hid so well behind the apron. When I went in to be induced, my already low platelet count plummeted. My daughter was born at the 7th percentile. After giving birth, I lost weight quickly from breastfeeding, or trying to. Getting my milk in and then keeping up a supply was a hassle, and I only lasted a few months. My weak stomach became weaker, causing a dwindling appetite.

I called my doctor. The internet is great and all for finding information, but I wanted an educated and valuable opinion regarding this celiac disease I had stumbled upon. I wanted to know what was true and what was false. I wanted a credible source. My doctor recommended I remove gluten from my diet. Test it out. She was old school—and old—and the only test she knew of to test celiac was invasive. Removing gluten was my only other option. After two weeks the changes became apparent. The migraines came less often and food was kept down. When I visited my hematologist after five months of gluten free living, my platelet count was the highest it had ever been. He was thoroughly impressed. And perplexed, the man didn’t know what to make of the drastic change until I informed him of my new gluten-free diet. The full effects of gluten are still unknown as researchers and doctors continue to learn about celiac disease and gluten sensitivity. Twice a year I get blood drawn to monitor my count. If it remains up come October, I might be considered “graduated” from his care. After a couple months on my new diet, I saw a gastroenterologist who specialized in celiac disease. As I was already on a gluten-free diet, I underwent genetic testing which only required a simple blood test. It was negative. Celiac was not my diagnosis.

“Or” was my new enemy. I could be sensitive or intolerant. Doctors don’t give enough information regarding what foods contain gluten. It’s in everything: dressings, lunch meats, pastas, dips, soy sauce, ice cream, pop. The list is endless. Reading labels became a must and my already health conscious mind grew a new ego. Nothing was overlooked on any food or drink package—good thing I love to read. Contamination was not to be ignored and a family member informed me of marshmallow root, a wonderful dietary supplement that can reduce any pains that might occur from gluten contamination. In fact, when her son wanted to indulge in a gluten delicious donut or pizza, the pills would allow him to eat without dealing with the consequential pain. However, simply because he doesn’t feel the pain doesn’t mean the damage isn’t being done. He had celiac and the pill can’t prevent from damage being done to his intestines over time when he does choose to indulge. The intestine will still become inflamed but like Advil can reduce swelling for a sprain, the injury still occurred.

After I found out I didn’t have celiac, I decided to savor a cinnamon donut—not roll—and two to be exact. It was pure heaven. There was no pain. But a month later, I was still fighting fatigue and migraines again; proof the marshmallow root was only a short-term relief. When I went in for my next blood draw and visit with hematology, my platelet count had gone back down (still slightly higher than my previous average). I learned the severity of my intolerance. I had to buy a separate toaster for me to use and all my condiments are labeled “GF.” Contamination is kept to a minimum but for a safety protocol I take marshmallow root daily. Despite popular belief, my gluten-free diet does not keep me thin.

My choice of a plant-based diet and lack of snacking is why I’m thin. I don’t drink my calories away. I eat when I’m hungry and not when I’m bored. It’s no preservatives and none of the artificial trio (sweeteners, flavoring, coloring). I listen to my body. If I’m feeling shaky, I up my salt or sugar intake. If I’m feeling queasy, I lay off any spices, sauces, and oily or greasy foods. I eat one serving of meat a day. I incorporate nuts into granola or salads. I aim to drink mostly water. I refrain from relying on rice as my gluten substitute—no thank you arsenic. I don’t eat out. Most of my meals are home cooked and prepared from scratch. Most importantly, I don’t buy into the assumption that gluten-free baked goods are healthy—they are still baked goods! They can be, given the right substitutions. However, it’s a safe bet that the gluten-free option of a product is less healthy than its gluten counterpart. But to make sure, read the nutrition facts label and the ingredient listing. If you don’t know what an ingredient is, google it. If you can’t get service because grocery stores are notorious for having bad reception, try to pronounce it. If you can’t sound it out, chances are it’s artificial or an unnecessary ingredient used to make it taste better. You should be knowledgeable of every ingredient on that list.

Before embarking on any diet, education is important. For example, it isn’t uncommon for novice vegans to neglect consuming necessary complete proteins. They have to be knowledgeable of adequate supplements or plant food combinations. Unless it’s printed and the restaurant is known for providing gluten-free options, I won’t consider the menu. At the last establishment where I served, I had to ask the head cook what menu items were gluten-free and his response was simple: “Well, gluten is anything with wheat, barley, and rye, so your breads and your pastas. Tell them they can have anything that doesn’t contain pasta, a hamburger without the bun, the salads.” The reality is gluten-free diets are much more complicated and I’m surprised the guest didn’t call back with a complaint—he had warned me of his severe sensitivity. Rice flour is commonly substituted in gluten-free products and meals but there is a concern regarding arsenic because it is so easily absorbed into the rice. Unfortunately, the best gluten-free tortillas I’ve found are brown rice tortillas. I’m not a fan of many of the corn-based products, like noodles, as they can taste gritty. When baking, almond flour can be a decent substitution among many others. Research is key.

In one of my health classes last semester, my group was asked to rank four different yogurts from healthiest to least healthy. Another group member and I disagreed on the appropriate ranking because we recognized we had different dietary needs and preferences. Whereas she was more concerned with sugar and was willing to consume artificial sweetener, I have a strict no artificial rule I follow and prefer more natural ingredients.

More gluten-free options may be popping up on the market, but that doesn’t mean you should be flocking to consume such products simply because of a “GF” label. It’s a learning process. Research what the diet entails. By definition, “diet” does NOT mean “healthy,” it simply refers to the food you consume. If you want to eat healthy, do research and listen to your body. The random aches, changes in bowel movements, sudden eczema or acne issues, or increase in migraines could very likely be due to the food you eat. Lunchmeat once a week doesn’t bother me, but if I eat it consecutively, I will get a crippling migraine. I love sandwiches but my body doesn’t. Gluten free may be popular, but your body might disagree with that assumption.

Only a small percent of people have celiac disease, and many are undiagnosed. The only way to know if you have celiac is to get tested. There are multiple screening options available for an individual to be tested for celiac. As for those who are sensitive or intolerant, know your body. With all food consumption and physical activity, it’s important to understand your body, the limits you can push and the boundaries set in stone.