A Genius Thought on Self-Care!

"Treat self care as a holy practice to commune with the divine." 

Here I am sitting at the courthouse, waiting for jury duty to start and flipping through my emails. And then I saw that buried in a blog post from Leonie Dawson (a gorgeously messy and soulful woman if there ever was one). Holy cow I had to pass it on. 

It's so amazing and beautiful and awesome and I love it!

I have long known that self-care is important, but I have never thought of it is a vehicle to be with the divine. And yet - looking back over my life, it's the periods when I care for myself the best that I feel most at one with God. The crazy-making stress is worst when I am not caring for myself, and thus feeling distant from my relationship with the universe and my spirit.

Love it! Love. It.

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PS Did this post get your brain gears crankin'?

Feel free to start a conversation below (it's okay, you can be anonymous)!

Does Diet Heal V Pain?

I got this post in my inbox today and it got me thinking...

Does what we eat affect v pain?

There are so many anecdotal stories out there, many like this one backed up by very convincing scientific explanations. (In case you didn't read the above post - she stopped eating dairy and her menstrual cramps stopped.)

Step into the world of research and opinions on health and diet, however, and you are blasted with a million different and often conflicting prescriptions, all of which guarantee you amazing results if only you  _________.

Early on in my journey, I was told that the "low-oxalate" diet would help improve my vulvar pain. The theory was that something called "oxalates" was irritating my skin via urine, so I should stop eating those foods (which included spinach, red wine, chocolate and much more.) 

So I tried it. It didn't do a damn thing.

I wasn't surprised. My pain seemed to be coming from a deeper place, to be different than skin irritation, and I was skeptical that this crazy pain came from peeing. Rinsing with water after urinating didn't help, so why would a low-oxalate diet?

As far as I know the whole low-oxalate diet for V pain has been discredited, but over the past few years public awareness about the relationship between food and health problems has skyrocketed. This has generally taken place in the form of "this specific food causes this specific symptom," rather than "eat a healthy balanced diet." So we have an avalanche of dairy-free, soy-free, gluten-free products filling our grocery shelves and making their way onto restaurant menus.

Back in the day doctors thought my grandfather was dying from stomach cancer. He was wasting away. Turns out he had celiac disease, a condition in which proteins found in grains (gluten) destroy the lining of the intestine, making it impossible for the body to absorb nutrients. Once he eliminated gluten he recovered completely and went on the live another 25 years.

In this regard, I am grateful for the new awareness about food-related chronic disease, and hope the gluten-free craze helps people with celiac get a proper diagnosis.

But amidst this "elimination diet" frenzy there is so much conflicting information. Vegans, vegetarians, followers of the paleo diet, Weston-Price, Dr Andrew Weill's food pyramid, raw food, juicing - all of them proclaim that by simply adding or eliminating X, Y, and Z we will be amazed at the incredible health benefits.

For some people, it works.

But as someone who has gone down just about every dietary pathway, I have also found this hype to be discouraging.

Before I developed v pain, I already had a number of health struggles, and in a search to feel better I eliminated three things: dairy (it gave me headaches,) soy (it gave me diarrhea,) and gluten (felt better overall.) This was 13 years ago, so people thought I was nuts. I was 19 years old, wasn't I supposed to be living off beer and pizza?

I had been a dedicated vegetarian in middle school and high school, but since I had eliminated dairy, soy, and most grains, I started eating meat again to add some variety to my diet. 

With the current elimination diet mania, I feel vindicated for my choices, but also bummed that while I did have some success with dietary modifications, it sure as hell didn't turn me into a picture of health. Post-elimination, I went on to develop all kinds of nasty things, including v pain.

A couple of years ago I decided to revisit the land of elimination diets. I had been resistant, as I knew that food restrictions could be annoying and not completely successful, but I figured that I owed it to myself to give it another try. In sequence, I took out one thing for a few weeks at a time, but I didn't see results. I figured perhaps I needed to chuck more than one item, so what the hell I might as well keep going and eliminate everything at once.

For three months I ate nothing but unprocessed organic pasture-raised meat, some fish, and non-nightshade organic vegetables - the only things that we (mostly) don't blame for health problems. (Regarding my choice of including meat: I had already been a vegetarian, they are not viewed as allergens, I ate only the healthiest meat possible, and I needed to eat something other than non-nightshade vegetables.) 

Everything else: nuts, fruit (because of the sugar,) grains of any kind, beans, legumes, nightshade vegetables, anything processed, went out the window.

It didn't do a damn thing. (I did lose ten pounds, but that was not the goal.)

It took an immense amount of effort and discipline, and at the end I was burned out and deeply disappointed. It did nothing for v pain, didn't help my menstrual cramps - so frequently blamed on dairy - and it didn't even make a dent in my acne-prone skin, and everybody who's anybody blames acne on inappropriate diet.

Following this experiment, I figured if diet didn't change any of my symptoms for any of my health problems, I wasn't going to stress out about eating healthy. Exhausted from months of intense cooking, I gave myself permission to subsist on cereal and yogurt for awhile (the pain meds I was taking at the time eliminated the dairy headaches I used to get.)

I spent a long time subsisting on cereal and yogurt.

Only recently have I started to get back into my old, pre-the-mother-of-all-elimination-diets-diet habit of eating generally "healthy." Ya know, organic meat a few times a week, gluten-free grains, organic vegetables, organic fruit, some beans, organic dairy, pasture-raised eggs. I'll have the occasional chocolate or bag of chips. 

It still hasn't done anything to change any of my symptoms, but I like to think that it is worthwhile self-care, and in my opinion healthy food tastes good. (Except when I burn it or otherwise mess up - I am not the best cook.)

I wish diet was the panacea for all of my many heath issues. Wouldn't that be great? A solution completely within my control, no doctors or second opinions or prescriptions needed!

As it stands, I have not yet reached the promised land.

There are many benefits of elimination diets - its DIY, it can be precisely tailored to your needs, and the proof is in the pudding. There is strong motivation to continue behavioral change when you reliably feel a positive difference.

I'm glad people share their stories of success with any treatment, especially simple lifestyle changes, as such sharing can genuinely help others. 

But I am turned off by the endless theories put forth to convince you that this way is THE way, and the fanaticism and judgment that sometimes goes along with it. Human bodies are so complex, and given the fact that there are currently 7 billion people on this planet it is difficult to believe that one way of eating will "fix" everyone.

My two cents? Experiment, be open-minded, and listen to your inner compass. Theories are not the holy grail. Ultimately, your body's reaction to any treatment is the most important information out there.

As for the theories and fanatics?

Take them with a grain of salt. 

The New Year's Resolution I Kept

Hello, lovelies and a Happy New Year to you.

It's January, the time when shelter mags feature articles about home organization and "freshening up with color," when gyms enroll the most new members, and when the media earnestly discuss resolutions in a flurry of hope tempered with the experience of hindsight: the standard pieces about what to resolve and how to do so are alongside articles and news clips warning you that by February most of these new resolutions will be toast.

La dee dah.

In all my 32 years on this planet I have rarely made New Year's resolutions and only ever kept one of them, back in 2008: to get a massage every month. It is a resolution I still keep six years later. 

This came about because during the prior year I had spent much of my time in physical therapy due to three painful problems: severe wrist tendonitis, pain in my right foot, and yes, vulvo-freakin'-dynia.

The three different specialists I saw kept saying the same thing: that my pain was due at least in part to severe chronic muscle tension. What the hey? I remembered adults telling me as early as the 6th grade "Oh honey, you are so tense," but it had never occurred to me that there would be any further repercussions, that my muscles would start pulling tighter and tighter until it hurt to raise a glass, walk, or sit.

I had only received a couple of professional massages at that point in my life, but I had loved them. They were a splurge, an expensive luxury to be enjoyed only on the rarest of occasions, but after all the time and money I had spent on physical therapy this delicious treat no longer seemed particularly expensive or optional.

So, my project began, continuing through a cross-country move and tight financial times. I initially thought massage would loosen up my muscles, with the goal of pain prevention, and that in order to achieve this the massage therapist would "fix" me, a passive recipient. All I had to do was show up.

Instead the process was entirely different, with me an active agent and the results spilling off the table and into my life. 

I learned how to feel my own body. My newfound physical awareness allowed me to make better decisions: to move and be still differently, to feel pain or discomfort and respond appropriately. I learned which parts of my body seemingly always held tension but also noticed sensations that would come and go.

The physical awareness soon led to emotional awareness. Positions such as clenched jaws or a held abdomen didn't come out of nowhere: my body was responding to what was going on in my head and my heart.

Regular massage taught me that how I handled my physicality and my emotions greatly influenced what happened in my body. Not only that, it was a two-way street: by intentionally relaxing an affected body part, I could loosen the hold of a vexing emotional state. 

Massage became so important to me that I had to share it with others: I worked as a massage therapist for two years.

* * *

In the early days of this project I rationalized my monthly massages as a responsible medical decision, but long ago dropped that Puritanical stance.

I now embrace the fact that all of these mind-body benefits flow from the intentional pursuit of pleasure. By "pursuit" I mean "an activity of a specified kind," as opposed to the act of going after an as-yet-unreached goal. My pursuit of pleasure is very much in the here and now, a practice, not something out on the horizon.

The hobby of pleasure is an essential part of healing: if you don't feel good, and don't know how to make yourself feel good, then how will you reach that state without experimentation and many hours of practice?

This is obvious once you look at it, but I rarely meet another person who thinks the same. 

I continue my monthly massages to this day, and have the next three sessions already booked. They are mentally pencilled in for the next seven decades.

* * *

I don't have a dramatic New Year's resolution for 2015, but I have spent considerable time over the past week tying up loose ends, focusing my desires for the coming year, and creating more support and structure around them with the intention of their fulfillment.

I am taking stock of my strengths and for the first time in my adult life I have a pretty good idea of what I will be doing twelve months from now. 

My New Year's reflection has thus not produced a proclamation so much as an acknowledgement of a series of shifts, and the decision to engage with them fully.

We are neither passive recipients nor all-powerful lords in any area of our lives: making change is a dance, a back and forth between our inner and outer worlds:

Blerg

Hey all,

Due to a number of unforeseen circumstances not related to pelvic pain, I arrive at this Monday exhausted and emotionally drained. Such is life, sometimes.

So as to not tire myself further, I am cutting back on my list of things to do today, including writing. I hope the brevity of this post will serve as a reminder that we all need a break sometimes, and that it's okay to take one - you're not alone.

Be good to yourself!

More Good Times

My husband and I wisely tacked on a few extra days to our trip, so we could be together after my in-laws had returned home.

This was a great idea.

We got to connect and have some quiet time to recover from the hustle and bustle of family before we returned home. We had originally planned on staying in Miami, but on a whim drove an hour south and spent the weekend in Key Largo. It was our first time in the Keys and we had a great time, snorkeling, kayaking, splashing in the hotel pool, watching the sunset, and singing the Beach Boys "Kokomo" ("...Key Largo, Montego, baby why don't we go to the Kokomo...")

Here's another postcard I picked up:

And here's a gorgeous image I snapped of, believe it or not, the cover of the Florida Keys Visitor Guide in our hotel room (I wish I remembered to write down the artist's name!) I find the colors and texture of this painting so inspiring and beautiful. It makes me grateful for art and artists.

Thank you artists.

The time in Key Largo gave me time to reflect on the trip, and made me realize how far my husband and I have come from the deep and dark times of the pain days.

As much as I would never wish chronic pain on anyone, I am so grateful to myself for making lemonade out of this big kahuna of a lemon. I have learned so much about myself and life, way more than I could write here in this one post.

Within this post I can say that all of these lessons have brought me to a place where I can enjoy time with my in-laws, an area of life that is a struggle for many married folks. I am grateful for that.

Again my dears, there is light, there is hope. While pelvic pain is all bad, it's effects don't have to be. You have the choice to create beauty out of the misery you are in.

Much love...