Well what can I say, I wanted to give an Odin update because he’s settling in. Our new home and routine seems to suit him. We’ve been in Chicago for seven months now. Our first Illinois winter together is finally over. (Although this was not my first winter in Illinois, Odin definitely needed some adjusting.) Basically after figuring out what worked between coats, sweaters, and tees, we were good to go. Finding what works best on an active dog of his size was challenging. But we made it through, and so now we face the warming temperatures of Spring/Summer.
Off to the Vet- Health Update
Firstly, Odin experienced some tummy and digestive issues about a month ago. Overall it was quite scary. He became severely dehydrated and had to go to the doggie ER. The best part was finding a good vet hospital just around the corner. They were so loving and kind. Luckily, with a bland diet of rice, rice water, and some serious meds, Odin was able to make a speedy recovery.
Surprisingly, bloodwork showed low cortisol levels so he’ll be returning to the vet to keep an eye on this condition. The whole episode lasted about a week and a half. Besides the tummy stuff, we also discovered some skin issues on his paws. Whatever is going on, it’s causing him to lick them. I’m not quite sure what the cause is yet. He’s been on medication since seeing the doctors at the ER. The meds seem to help for now.
TravelingAgain
An Odin update on the travel side, he visited North Beach in downtown. Odin just loves digging in the sand. Still, he hasn’t figured out cars though. For a super intelligent canine, cars just have him baffled. I guess he will always truly be a country dog.
When we go on long car rides, his bed fits just behind my driver’s seat. He sleeps the whole way. In April, Odin travelled to Kentucky for a few days. He hung out with his sisters Malice and Sissy and played with the babies for a few minutes. He just loved that. The littlest one, that is scared of dogs actually pet him and squealed at the joy. Odin loved it just as much.
Usually Odin spends his days just lounging on the bed or the couch waiting for a walk. I wonder what dogs dream about. He makes the cutest noises while he’s sleeping. Sometimes he even snores. He loves Kos’s Park across the street. Now that it’s warmer the park is full of people and children. Odin often finds snacks on the ground. It’s an ever vigilant watch to make sure he doesn’t eat something he’s not supposed to.
Well that’s it for now. Stay tuned. I promise I’ll be better at giving you more about Odin. Thanks for reading and enjoy the photos! -xxooC
It happened again today. Another flashback, just more trauma. Reliving the “thing” I don’t want to think about, let alone discuss. But there it was. I think this whole experience is all part of reconnecting with the world. After a traumatizing event, it’s hard to be part of something. Because being part of something means exposure. Being vulnerable to more trauma again and never quite knowing when or where I’ll be drawn back into it for a moment, an hour, a day or more.
Luckily today was just moments but the lingering effect lasted much longer. I was taken back several years to just after my trauma. I was trying to make sense of the world around me. Always moving, never looking over my shoulder. Putting time and distance between me and “it.” Today it caught up with me though.
Unintentional But Still
I was doing routine things. At work, not really on guard. It’s a semi-warm day today so I didn’t wear stockings. My thigh tattoo was exposed. Someone saw it and commented and asked about it. Then the whole office was asking, surrounding, questioning. Then there I was, back in my trauma. Explaining what it was, why I got it. Who did it, when he died. All of it. There, at work and I said it all without batting an eye. I’ve come that far by the way. I was very proud of myself. I stood there and told the tale. Then I retreated.
I went to the washroom where no one was and I cried. I cried like I did when I got this tattoo. Like I do every time I spread more of him and feel his soul touch mine once again. The feeling I get when I’m back in my safe place, back when all of this never happened. When I took it all for granted. When I was whole and completely naïve.
Ending The Night
All I can say is tell the people you love what they mean to you because there may not be a tomorrow. Not for them, not for you. I know how cliché that sounds but for my husband it was true. Tomorrow did not come for him. So live like there’s no tomorrow. The one question I go to bed asking myself now is, am I proud of who I am and what I did today? If the answer is yes, then I sleep a little better. If not, then I hope there is a tomorrow that I can do better.
I’m sitting here watching a thunderstorm roll in. One of the subtle things I love most in this world. The smell of rain. The calm before the storm. Quick flashes of lightening and a glimpse of what’s coming. We never really know what’s coming though. Every moment, every day. Although it may be routine, somehow someway, something unexpected always pops up. This story is about the things I’ve said that really surprised me when I hear the words come from my mouth.
I had a conversation with another widow today. Her story was like others I had heard. Her husband died because of an illness. His death wasn’t quick. He didn’t want to leave and his leaving was devastating. They had been married a very long time. And in this conversation I had another revelation.
The things I’ve said since Eric left that I never thought would ever escape my lips. I’m speaking of the words I never thought I would ever say pre-trauma. I’m still surprised when something like “my husband died” rolls off my tongue. Another is “my life now after my husband passed.” Still the one that always stuns me is “now that I am single.”
What Still Surprises Me
I never thought I would be single again. That title eluded me for a long time. I was very reluctant to take it until it was forced upon me. Taxes and the IRS are to blame but I took it anyway. Now I bare it like a sign, or a badge. My heart will never be single. He will always dwell there, inside my soul even though outside we are no longer a couple.
This widow I spoke to today has been 12 years a widow and like me, she is choosing her own path. We didn’t speak about what her life was right after. But I felt we shared some commonalities. The pain in her eyes was still there and when she said “I’m 12 years, you are still new” I knew then, she had a perspective so I rebutted “time really doesn’t matter” to which she responded “no, it doesn’t.”
Time. Friend or Foe?
That right there. That was the moment that solidified everything I’ve thought up until now. Time does not heal all wounds, it just masks and allows us to cope better. Time allows experience to learn how to not say the things I think. So far, it’s taught me to hide everything inside better. Time allows me the learning to keep buried what needs to be and to be able to function in society again.
Right after Eric died, I spoke to a dear friend I used to work with. She too lost her husband suddenly to an accident two years prior. They are both young. She said to me “girl, it’s hard.” At the time I didn’t know what that meant. I do now. It is hard. It will always be hard. Coping, existing, living past the death and trauma of losing a life partner is hard. It’s a different kind of loss. Hard is the beginning, middle, and will ultimately be the end.
I realized after I published Part 1 of “What to expect when you ARE in mourning“, I left a few things out. Although I did touch on some physical expectations, I completely missed the massive emotional and mental aspect. So here is Part II. I’m calling this one What NOT to expect when you are in mourning.
The Mental Part
The first thing I can tell you not to expect, is to be the same person again. Ever. There are moments in one’s life that completely change and define you. Losing someone close is one of those moments. The closer the soul, the more of a marker in time a death becomes. There is only before and after.
Second, do not expect to make rational decisions. My thought process was completely driven by the intense emotions I was feeling. I definitely wasn’t clear headed. Nothing meant anything to me and material possessions from a life I no longer had were worthless. I got rid of almost all possessions in one way or another. I don’t recommend doing so alone. This decision turned out alright for my situation but again. I don’t recommend it for the first year.
The Emotional Part
Thirdly, emotions were uncontrollable for a while. I did not expect this and I couldn’t hide them. I’ve gotten better though. But for what seemed like a long while, they quickly went from rage, to sadness, to indifference all within a short span of time. I felt stunned most of the time. Disbelief and confusion filled in the rest. I remember saying I know it happened, but I just can’t believe it happened.
The next thing I didn’t expect was the desparate longing that kicks in. Along with the emptiness. I believe this is part of the bargaining stage. Desparation to have just one more moment of that perfect peace with your loved one still with you. It’s there, you can almost grasp it. But the peace is never within reach. Don’t expect to ever fill the void your loved one left. This is the one feeling time will never heal. This feeling creeps in again. And again. And again. When it’s least expected. Triggered over a thought, a memory, a gesture. This is the wave that’s often talked about. The tidal wave of grief.
The Physical Part
Finally, don’t expect grief and mourning to just be emotional. I wasn’t prepared for the physical manifestations that came along. The side effects of grief and in my case, sudden loss. The pain is intense. Deep physical pain that never really goes away. Time just teaches how to mask it better. My energy level declined. I don’t think it will ever be what it was but I am finding ways to cope.
Last but certainly not least, I’m going to speak strictly about widowhood. Don’t expect your life to resemble anything close to what it did before. Ever. Widowhood changes everything. From self care, to the way I eat. The biggest realization was that I was alone in taking care of myself. I lost the comfort in those intimate life moments. The ones when I had someone there. Always knowing where I was. The constant daily conversations. Gave way to a huge, hollow void.
The Opportunity That Awaits
In the end of the list, of what not to expect while mourning. I would like to leave you with a message of hope. For in my grief I see possibility. In what’s left of my life now, I see opportunity. Opportunity I never would have thought possible. Because in all of my loss, came a freedom. I am free to do things I would have never done before.
My final words are…don’t expect good things NOT to happen. When I lost everything, anything seemed possible. With all of the mental and physical scars I still had to live each day. And only I could determine how that day would be. My therapist said the most profound words that stuck with me, even today. “The only one stopping you, is you.” So I leave you with this, take a chance. Do one thing you have always wanted to do whether it be by yourself or with someone else. I know it’s scary. Just do it. You’ll thank me later.
If you haven’t lost someone significant, then this article isn’t for you. If you have, then you may be familiar with what I’m about to talk about. It’s all of the things that are not discussed in daily life, but exist in the world of someone mourning. Let’s get real about mourning and grief. Let’s talk about what to expect when grieving the loss of someone you loved.
I’m going to start with relationships. What to expect first is, most people around you including friends and family simply will not understand. Some may think they do, but they don’t. Unless one has lost the same relationship, no one gets what you feel. No one will empathize with you and very few will know what is appropriate to say or do. The few that will, well they will ultimately be your tribe but I’ll get to that in a minute.
Second, there are so many rituals that go along with death. What to expect, and what happens in a post-covid world are completely different things. Nothing is right or wrong and everyone deserves the right to choose what is best for them and their loved ones. Especially when it pertains to end of life choices and decisions. Don’t just go along with someone elses expectations. Do what feels right for you and don’t worry about pleasing anyone else, no matter who says what.
Other things about what to expect
Third, most of those around you do not have your best interests in mind. They only have theirs. It’s really hard to tell because intentions may be good but these people, family, and loved ones may not be good for you. And this is a problem because discerning what is real and what is false is super hard when you can’t think straight. So my advise is to surround yourself with people you completely trust. If there is a hint of something crazy, cut them off. It’s okay to put a relationship on hold and reconnect when able. You’ll be glad you did.
Fourth, don’t have regret. In mourning and grief one clearly can’t think straight. It all takes time. How much time? Well, that’s a very individual answer as well. Each person moves through grief differently because of a number of factors. So tread lightly, don’t make any decisions you don’t have to, and wait until you feel better both mentally and physically. Hint…your people will be there for you with no questions asked. They won’t have alterior motives and they will only be there to assist. Not for “what’s in it for them” or to make themselves the star of the show. As I said before, these are your inner circle. They will be your life line and your comfort.
And a few more things
Fifth, you will suffer physically. In ways you can’t even imagine. The stress and discomfort from grieving will touch your very soul and manifest in physical ways. Listen to your body and be aware. Slow down when you need to. Draw boundaries when appropriate. Rest when you can.
Sixth and final thought. Don’t do anything that doesn’t feel right. If it all feels wrong, it probably is. Go with your gut because that’s all you have. Don’t trust anything just because you should. Finally, it’s okay to draw boundaries and postpone anything and/or EVERYTHING until you feel you can deal.
One last thought
That’s it. These are the things I wished I had known going into my experience with grief. The things no one talks about but everyone who has been through it knows quite well. No one can prepare you for your grief journey. Everyone is different and every journey is unique. What we can do is to find support and support each other.
I had a moment today. Something insanely karmic happened. I knew it when I was experiencing the moment that it was something uniquely special and there was a lesson here for me. Here in this moment. In this person I had just met and was talking with. I’ve had these random, extraordinary moments a few times since my late husband’s passing. I’ve been open to everything and these moments are hard to miss. The universe puts individuals in my path just long enough for a discussion. I believe it’s to teach me something.
Today was a important day at work. I had a big corporate visit from the ready to wear department heads. They were travelling from New York. We also have a huge sale starting. I’ve been preparing for all of this for over a week. Then, just before everyone was to walk in the door, they were late already, I met a customer on the handbag sales floor.
There was nothing particularly striking about this woman. She was older, and alone. She was standing still just looking around in the sale area. I greeted her with a smile and a welcome, as I do every customer I come in contact with. She proceeds to tell me what she was looking for and we spotted her favorite handbag together. This was nothing out of the ordinary for my job.
Sharing in The Moment
Then something happened. It’s happened before but not this way. Usually it’s me all emotional and I break down. I’m the one that starts talking about my loss. This time it was her. She lost her husband in December. He became ill. I’m not going to talk about her story because her story belongs to her. It’s not mine to share. But her outpouring of feelings and emotions I quickly connected with. She instantly reminded me of the three times I was her. Twice in Sanibel, Florida and once in Venice, Florida. The only difference was, I was the one who layed bare my soul upon defensless strangers. Only to find out they were in fact widows themselves.
The moment just happens. We told our stories. She went first. She endured more loss than just her husband but there were moments we teared up. Together. I could see her. Really see her in her eyes. She shared her loneliness. The loss we felt together. We shared the confusion, the emptiness, the feeling of what’s left over when the closest person you know dies. There, just before my “big” important visit, I became an emotional wreck. Very much on the verge of a break down. Right there in the middle of the handbag department of Macy’s.
Our interaction lasted for what seemed like an eternity. Although I knew I was pressed on time. I wanted to stay there, in that moment just a little bit longer. It was so familiar. But somehow this time it wasn’t as disorienting. More it was grounding, comforting. In that moment I felt this deep connection. Not just to her but to what we shared. What I had gone through to get where I am today.
And Then It’s Over
I’ve written about these moments before. This time, I believe the difference is, she is in the early stages of grief and I no longer am. Even though I’m approaching the three year mark, I’m still grieving. That alone is a hard realization. I also realized that although she is grieving, her grief is different than mine. I have traumatic grief. This is a type of grief that comes from sudden loss and is different than just mourning. I think that was one of my lessons here.
Then just like that, I had to go. My colleague took over. I walked away to greet my visitors. The visit went well. I wasn’t nervous at all. A calmness has stayed with me throughout the rest of today. She reminded me of why I travelled. This woman whom I never asked a name. She touched the very trauma inside me I’ve been trying to bury. Today I was reminded I am a survivor.
To all my readers that wonder if you are alone in your grief. I promise you that you are not.
It’s snowing here in my little slice of Chicago. I woke up this morning with a heavy heart. My last dream was about Lucy. I’ve been playing with the idea of getting another cat for a while but somehow I can’t commit. I guess I feel like it’s just not the right time. With cats, it’s been my experience, that when you know, you know. Cats seem to adopt their caretakers. Not the other way around. This had me wanting to share some cat tales.
Anyway, I had this on my mind this morning. After I got over the sadness of holding Lucy in my dream, I was quickly chuckling over memories of my late husband. He didn’t really like cats much when we first met. In fact, he kind of hated them. So I got one for our daughter. Then one became two and well, you know how that goes. We quickly had a furry family.
The Kitty Whisperer and a Cat Tale
Over the years our family grew and shrunk. Some cats aren’t destined to stay. They just need a place to land and recouperate before moving on to their forevers. So we considered our house a home for wayward animals. Eric fed everything that ventured onto the front porch. Whether it be feline or of another species persuasion. It wasn’t long before we were quickly going through a 20 lbs bag of dry cat food every week, but he loved it. It wasn’t unusual to see an opposum or a raccoon on the front porch. We often talked about setting up a camera to see what we were encountering because sometimes, we would wake up and whole big bowl of food would be gone overnight.
My husband often called himself the “kitty whisperer” and with good measure. When we were in Kentucky, there was an instance where we were alerted to a “stray” cat that had been put out of a house, down in the cul de sac. Eric spent weeks going down and laying a trail of food for him to find his way to our house. Bubby lived out his remaining years under our house in the crawl space. Going in and out of a vent, Eric would fill his food bowl twice a week and put it back under the house.
Ladybug came to us as the neighbors across the street moved out. They left her. Declawed and homeless. Again, Eric left a trail of food to the front porch. Ladybug spent 3 years as our porch kitty. Content to spend her days lounging on the railings. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be an inside kitty again. Eric kept trying to bring her inside but she insisted she wanted out. That was until we moved in 2019, and then she quickly adapted to life indoors.
Cat Tales from the Kitty Ranch
Our daughter is also a cat magnet. She brought more than a few home. Eric fell in love with every single one. When he came home from work, every animal got their special “Eric” time. Every one. Every day. I often overheard their conversations. He had his favorites but he truly loved each one for who they were.
When Em was young, she once asked Eric where he went on the weekends. At the time, he was on a shift from Thurs-Sun. So to her, he was gone all weekend. He told her he spent his weekends at his kitty ranch in Wyoming. And just like that, The Kitty Cowboy was born. Eric could tell some tales. She believed him and he proceeded to tell her some of the wildest, funniest cat tales imaginable. Sometimes he would take along a kitty or two from home to help out with the all of the kitty wrangling and ranch chores.
I remember one instance when Em was in middle school. Her teachers sent a note home. The note said the last few days of school would be spent as if the children were away at camp. We had to pack pillows, flash lights, blankets, and other things. Parents could send packages like mail. Eric sent her a package with a letter from the kitty ranch. We still talk about it to this day.
The Biggest Tales are the Best Tales
Once I got a text at work. Eric proceeds to tell me Lucy showed him the zipper where she takes off her fur coat. She took it off and ran around the back yard naked. He said it was so amazing. And then promised her he wouldn’t tell a soul, but of course he had to tell me.
Another story comes to mind of Nacho. Nacho was Eric’s favorite although he wouldn’t admit it. Nacho was the master Ninja. He has blades of steel on the ends of his toes. These blades are unmatched. Nacho weilds them like no other kitty because he is specially trained by a Liger.
Animals bring so much joy to our lives. I love my dog Odin dearly and he is becoming this quirky, fiercly loyal, and fun loving guy. Odin has stepped in as my emotional support animal for my chronic disorders but still. There is just something about a cat. So until my kitty love finds me, I’ll be sitting here patiently waiting. I just hope it doesn’t take too much longer.
Where are my fellow cat lovers? Show me some photos and tell me some cat tales until I find my kitty love again.
Another mile stone came and went this week. Monday would have been my 25th wedding anniversary. I knew this day would come. Not the speed bump day, but the day when I couldn’t run from the feelings. Until now, before this move to Chicago, I would just go wherever I want to spend a painful day. Some place I can’t possibly be sad. Last year I was in Redding, California and the year before was Sanibel, Florida. Sounds great and it was. Well that didn’t get to happen this year. I couldn’t get the day off and was forced to work.
I wasn’t quite sure how the day was going to go. And I must say I was extremely anxious about it the night before. The thoughts of working, being in a vulnerable environment should things go south was overwhelming. My GAD was definetly getting the best of me. The next morning was worse but I eventually got out the door. I was especially nice to everyone that day because I wanted everyone to be nice to me. My emotions were crazy. The flashbacks and PTSD even came back that morning. I cried harder and more than I have in some time. But as I keep reminding myself, my tears are for me.
Making it Over the Speed Bump
This day came and went just like all of the other 900+ days since. I’m still here. Picking up the pieces of my sanity. Struggling to look normal on the outside while quietly falling apart most days. Every time one of these speedbump days rolls around. There’s this gentle reminder I’m not the same person I was and life for me will never bear any resemblance to what it was before that day in June of 2020. I wish I didn’t have to continue to mourn but parts of me will, for the rest of my life.
I started this blog to get my writing out and just to have a place to house it. Along the way, so many of you have reached out with personal stories of your own grief and how my writing has touched you. Thank you for reminding me I’m not alone and I am humbled that my writing can help anyone. The common thread I see, is that we all have some level of grief in our lives but each one of us is unique. So how we feel it, how we deal with it is a completely individual story. I still believe we never process or move on from the trauma suffered from grief. It just gets redefined. And somehow with each new speed bump comes the learning experience on how to deal with it in my daily life.
I wanted to share with you my writing prompt today in the most amazing book my daughter gave me for Christmas. It was “who are my role models and what qualities do they have?” I didn’t have to think long before I realized my daughter is my biggest role model and I’ll get more to that in a minute.
But first, what is a role model? I had to look up the definition because although I thought I knew what it was, I wanted to find out exactly what the definition was. I found equal but different descriptions. Merrium-Webster Dictionary says “A person who’s behavior in a particular role is imitated by others.”
In doing this excise, it didn’t take long before I thought of my second role model. And that person would be my late husband. Somehow in the relationship when we finally become one unit. Our traits and personalities began to compliment each other instead of working against one another.
We became our biggest fans and cheerleaders. He posessed a lot of qualities I aspired to. Don’t get me wrong, he definitely had faults but he was strong, rescourceful, and bold. He had a presence that I do not possess but wanted to. When he left I went through a time when I lost myself because I looked to him for guidance. A guidance I am just now understanding the depth of. Which is another reason I embarked on a self discovery journey over the past two and half years. I’m still learning myself all over again.
My Role Model Still
Besides these two beautiful souls, I can’t say I’ve really had anyone else I’ve considered a role model. Sure, I could have easily just picked a random celebrity or inpsirational speaker. But those aren’t really the kinds of people I look up to. I never have. No one has had multiple qualities I aspired to. Of course each of us have certain good traits but to look up to someone and trust their judgement, want to emulate their qualities, and push to achieve their wisdom, no…I can’t say that until I met my daughter.
My daughter as an adult is one the kindest, gentlest persons I have ever met. She is so much like me and then she has all of these other wonderful qualities. She is strong, fiercely loyal, and an independent thinker. She’s compassionate, empathetic, and understanding. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have her as my daughter but I am grateful the universe put her in my life. She was a delight as a child but as an adult, she’s simply amazing and I am in awe of her often.
Through A Widow’s Eyes
So as a widow, now I understand. Along with all of the shock of losing my husband. I also lost my role model. Sometimes we choose role models, and sometimes they just enter our lives at the right time. I think I could say both of mine just entered and then I chose them. My question today is who can I look up to now? I’ll let you know when I find them because there are a few individuals on my radar.
Who is your role model and why? I’d love to hear. Thanks for reading xxooC.
I’ve suffered some setbacks lately. Both mentally and physically. I found out last year through a DNA sensitivity test, that I am super sentsitive to certain foods. I kind of already knew it but, this completely confirmed it. The majority of people have food sensitivities and don’t even know it. I was one of those people. Don’t let anyone or any doctor tell you differently. Food sensitivies can wreak havoc in gut. The gut controls the immune system. When the immune system fails, the body is open to other diseases including auto-immune disorders. This is where my food journey begins.
All of what I’m about to tell you is what prompted me to write this article about my food journey. Because a couple of weeks ago, I ate a whole bunch of things I shouldn’t have. This really caused a screw up in my digestive system as well as inflamation throughout my entire body. On top of this bodily stress from food, this caused my mental stress to multiply. Coupled with the anxiety of a new job, a new city, a new living space…well you get where I’m going.
NOTE: I’ve inserted lots of links to outside websites explaining medical definitions and explainations. Just click on any to learn more about that topic. Thanks!
Food Journey Version 1.0
My food journey started way back in my late twenties. First I was diagnosed with hypo-thyroidism. This resulted in medication. Second was arthritis. More medication. Third was chronic fatigue syndrome. Even more medication. Amphetamines were prescribed at one point just because my energy level had dropped so low.
Then by my mid thirties I was a wreck. I broke my first bone in 2005. My endocrinologist sent me for a DEXA bone scan. This is a test that measures bone density. I was borderline osteopenia. More medication was prescribed and this is where I said STOP! I truly believe we have to become our own advocates when the medical system isn’t working in our favor. So I started reading, and reading, and more reading.
Version 1.5
I learned almost all illnesses start from bad gut health. This is a whole ‘nother topic and I’ve included some links if you want to explore this more. If you are experiencing symptoms, I highly recommend digging deeper. The results will shock you. Anyway, I had been fasting off and on for quite some time and I always felt amazing during a cleanse. So I felt I was on the right path with the food thing. Not knowing how to proceed and not having enough information yet, I suffered for many years to come.
Then, in my early forties, after many attempts to clean up my diet, nothing seemed to be working. I felt the worse I had felt in my entire life. Then I suffered my second bone break in 2013. The results of my most recent bone scan showed I was creeping up to osteoporosis. I couldn’t open my hands in the morning from pain and inflammation. My body constantly ached like the flu. My brain was foggy all day. Moodiness, yes. Irregularity, yes. No strength, no energy, no motivation, constant digestive issues, that was all me. So I decided to do something.
Important Food Discoveries
My first attempt was to cut out the big 6 for 4 months. That was wheat, dairy, alcohol, caffeine, corn, and sugar. Yes it was difficult but well worth it. After reintroducing each one, I’ve found that all of them affect me in some way. Gluten? Any gluten more than a couple of bites at all, I can’t digest it. Corn? In excess, inflammation ie: arthritis symptoms. Caffeine? Tummy issues immediately. Sugar? In excess, bloating and swelling of hands and feet. Alcohol? It all depends. Dairy? Well that depends too.
I want to point out here there is a BIG difference between allergy and intolerance regarding food. Click on the link to discover more. With this knowledge, I slowly started to change my diet. Eat more good stuff and avoid the known issues. Meanwhile, I cut out a considerable amount of medications. Finally, I was down to just the ones for thyroid support and bone loss.
Bone Broth!
I also wanted to add that I started making bone broth for collagen support. Super easy to do in a crock pot and I can’t say enough about how good it made me feel. If you want my recipe just ask. It’s nothing complicated and I will be happy to share. I just took a recipe off the web and changed it up a bit to suit my taste. Yes, collagen is readily available through many powders, premade broths, drinks, shots. However you choose to consume is great. I just realized I could make it for cheap and I loved the taste of mine.
The Turning Point
After a while I became acutely in tune with my body. I knew there were other consumptions not working for me but I couldn’t quite figure it all out. Lastly, about a year ago, I took a DNA food profile from 5 Strands. (Not A Paid Advertisement!) This test was the key I needed to successfully change the path of my food journey. There it was in black and white. Actually it’s white, green, orange, and red but there it was. Some things I knew, some were not a surprise and some were a complete surprise! Lots of foods I thought were safe were in fact, really irritating my body. Armed with this knowledge, I can now make better food choices.
So this leads me full circle to why I feel so terrible now. I ate a ton of corn along with a few other things on my red list. This was two weeks ago and my hands still hurt. And there you have it. My food journey is constantly evolving as I dabble in scrumptious meals I shouldn’t but grocery shop like I should. I read labels, and avoid the foods that make me super sick when I can. Changing one’s diet is a lifestyle. It takes time. Also lots of knowledge.
Anyone have issues you suspect is related to food sensitivites/intolerances? I want to hear. Thanks for reading xxooC.
Oh Hi!! WOW! The last few months have been CRAZY!! I try to keep up with everyone on social media. All of it matters. But let’s be honest, most of what is posted mixed with what is filtered is irrelevant. I am still in the process of reengaging. By reacting to a social media post takes a moment of time and energy. I have decided as I give my time in exchange for money, I don’t want to exert excess energy on things which really do not matter. Regarding all the matters, so many things really do not matter.
So what exactly DOES matter? I ask myself this all the time. Well, my loved ones matter. My “inner circle” so to speak. I suck at engaging anymore. My energy level just hasn’t returned. I’m not sure it ever will. I only have so much energy in one day for so much. Then I am done. That’s it. I’m physically and emotionally DONE.
I often wonder if I am the only one feeling this way or this is just the result of the trauma I’ve been through. Either way, expending energy where I feel is unecessary is daunting. So what to do?
When Saying No is OK
For now, just becoming aware of the difference. Understand it’s okay to say no to some things. It’s perfectly okay to just say I can’t do this now. Whether it be laundry, chores, obligations, life. Of course there are going to be things. Things I MUST do. Those things matter, and have to be factored in. Then, if there isn’t anything of me left, I am getting better saying it’s time to stop. Learning to recognize the point I need to stop is still challenging. Slowly I am learning what truly matters.
These are reflections I have learned through my new meditations. Daily I take a few minutes and ponder the good stuff. It’s been very satifying. Not only am I more grateful, but my meditations have also helped me see what exactly is important. What I want to focus more on in my life. What I don’t want in my life and/or things to cut out. And finally, the things I want more of and to do more of.
Speaking of gratitude, my daughter got this book for me for Christmas. (This is NOT a paid advertisement!!) I’ve started and with the first couple of days it’s really opened up my thoughts and inspirations. Not only is it positive but it leaves me with things to think about. Self discovery is never a bad thing.
Update On The Move
Moving has been an experience in itself. I kind of knew it would be but I had no idea living in a city of this size was such a different way of life. As I mentioned before, I live in the North/Northwest neighborhood of Logan Square. I am about six miles from the lake. Which by the way, I have not visited as a resident yet. Anyway, before moving here I always thought I was somewhat a cultured city girl. Boy was I wrong! I have never felt more country than I now do at times and the strange thing is, I’m okay with it. I am adapting and growing.
The culture in Chicago is amazing. This city is so diverse. I can go a few blocks and be in a completely different neighborhood with a completely different ethnicity and culture. That’s what makes this city so unique. One thing in particular I have noticed is the people are really nice. Nicer than I expected. Of course no one says “hi” on the streets or waves from their cars but I do witness nice acts almost every day. Don’t get me wrong, the news is riddled with the bad stuff. In a city of over 2.7 million residents there’s bound to be crime and bad people. That’s everywhere.
Final Thoughts and Gratitude
For now I am content. Trauma and anxiety are still daily challenges. That hasn’t changed. The one thing I can say though is I am in a better place than I was two years ago and I am grateful for that. Tell me one thing you are grateful for.
I’ll say it again, somehow the new year’s brings up all kinds of feelings. New year’s has that way of simultaneously inspiring reflection of the past while planning for the future. And while this is usually a good thing, it can also be traumatizing to some.
First a little background. I grew up in a typical middle income household with both parents. On the surface it looked normal. Scratch a few layers deep and it was horrifyingly not normal. It wasn’t long into my life when I would look at neighborhood friend’s families and see mine was different. Never really being able to put my finger on it but it was there. Like a shining beacon. I was in my early 20’s when I began to realize. My home life taught me to keep my emotions guarded because if I slipped, every thought and word was quickly weaponized and used against me. This made forming relationships difficult in my early adult life.
New Me Version 2.0
I met my husband when we were in our mid-20’s. He also bore scars from his childhood. Together we melded. We worked through them and became a solid foundation for us both. Together we were each other’s refuge. A soothing place of peace because we understood each other. Back then, the new year’s brought happiness and joy. A chance to look forward to what was possible. Now for me that rock and foundation is gone and it’s bringing up all kinds of trauma. Trauma I don’t want to deal with. I want to bury it again and never bring it back out this late in my life. But each day I’m increasingly reminded that as long as I am still here, neglecting my healing isn’t working it’s only hurting.
Once you see personality disorder, it’s impossible to unsee it. I recognized it in my husband. It was all too familiar. Thankfully he was willing to put in the work. He was open to change and saught the help he needed to bring calmness and peace into our lives.
I learned narcacistic behavior early. I used it. Before I knew what I was doing. I think I used it on my own child before I decided the cycle had to be broken. Now, she bears the trauma but hopefully she will some day recover and I’m there for it. I’m there for all of the hard stuff with her. I know I screwed up and I’m not afraid to admit it. My childhood left me severely ill equipped to handle a lot on the parenting front. Hell, there’s a lot I can’t handle about adulting. Because to be honest, no one ever taught me how to be an adult but that’s another article.
The Authentic, Healing Me
So this new year’s has brought up all of my insecurities and trauma. To lessen the pain and begin some healing I’ve made some commitments to myself. Instead of resolutions I’ve made a list of what I want to accomplish this year in my healing. I can count on one hand the people who actually know the real me. I’ve heard we have different versions of ourselves for the different facets of life. Of course there’s a “professional” me, and “private” me although now, my goal is to try to be more authentic in every aspect. I have decided not to try to mold myself to fit any situation again. Only speak my truth and try to truly live.
Simple Goal Setting, It’s ME
To help in achieving this goal, I’ve made a modestly small list of things I want to start doing. Thereby enabling healing, self care, and hopefully begin to let go of some of this pain and trauma I’ve been holding on to. EMDR therapy has taught me how to physically control my anxiety and calm my mind. So the first thing I am committing to this year, is to dedicate at least 3-5 min a day to meditation on happy things. Moments that have happened. I want to live those meditative minutes in gratitude for being able to experience them.
Second, is more activity. I’m not calling it exercise as that is so cliche. Especially when discussing the new year. So I am committing to more walking. That’s it. Pretty easy for now. Lastly is writing. I have felt like I haven’t had time when in all actuality I just got out of the habit. I’ve gotten lazy with the things that bring me joy.
So there it is. Call it my resolutions. I call it my path to healing. Each one has a proven place in my journey. I’ll keep you updated on how it’s going.
What self care/self improvement commitments have you made for 2023? I’d love to hear. Thanks for reading. xxooC
