indigo

Cheeks blushed rosy, lips glossed ruby.  Indigo lines around twinkling eyes. Hair pulled back, dangling turquoise and onyx, crystal sparkles catching the light. The chill of night air fills my lungs, my feet crunch the snow. Anticipation of live music and good company warm me, like a favorite blanket. 

Cute boys with beards and flannels, pretty girls with sweaters and boots, dim table lamps and clink of glasses. Din of a crowd and the dim of the lights, light and dark, sound and silence, life and hibernation all at once.  Hugs are exchanged, smiles are traded.  Five women on stage tuning their instruments and walking in cowboy boots.  They play, they sing, and so does my heart.  This environment is familiar; for years, it fed me in a way that nothing else could. I feel alive.

The crowd grows, and drinks are raised in all hands but mine. Then it starts, small at first, but slowly growing - a nagging buzzing pressure in my head, a thump in my chest. A nervous energy in my belly, clawing its way down my legs and up my chest and into my neck, scratching at the base of my brain. I feel hot. I get irritated. I can't focus.  Someone's perfume trails up my nose, leaving nausea and a headache in its wake. 

[going out isn't always so fun anymore] 

The contained chaos of the crowd makes me feel like my nervous system is going to short circuit, brain fizzled and fried. Skin that crawls and fingers that twitch and head the pounds louder than the voices on stage. Must leave. Now.

[now. now. now.]

I make awkward but honest escape, quick goodbyes, desperate pushing through the crowd. Couples nestled in booths, crowds of friends sharing drinks and laughter. Me quickly putting on my coat and pushing out the door. The rush of icy air brings relief, but quickly turns to sadness; a quiet sidewalk speaks of icy despair when their is warmth and love inside.

I scream in my car until I can't scream anymore.

[an ironic gesture for someone suffering massive sensory overload]

Indigo tears. 

two weeks of changes

I'm proud of myself. In the last two weeks, I've done a few things that I feel really good about.  Despite getting on the scale and seeing it read "196" and putting on some pants I hadn't seen since early Spring and nearly having an emotional breakdown, I feel I'm slowly moving back in the right direction. :)

Where I rocked it:

• I rode my bicycle instead of driving or taking the bus, and got in a few good long walks over the lunch hour.
• I went to the gym four times and swam laps and did water exercises. I was happy to see that I could tolerate the chlorine in the pool, something that was always really hard for me. Swimming felt amazing, and I was pleased that I was able to swim for about 30 minutes each time without getting exhausted!  Hey, I may have gained a bunch of weight, but I'm definitely healthier.  It's so humbling though; I have completed two triathlons (that feels like a different lifetime, now), and the fact that I struggle to feel strong enough to do sit ups seems so rediculous.  
• I started getting myself on the books (paperwork, argh!!!!) to see a physical therapist and work on reconditioning my muscles in a gentle, gradual way. Yay!
• I have been fairly successful with not snacking late at night, trying to satisfy my late-night food urges with tea, kombucha or other beverages. 
• Over the weekend, I cooked two soups, meatloaf, and a bunch of veggies to have in the fridge for my busy week, so I can eat balanced meals and not snack on weird stuff.
• I had a good long talk with my Lymie cousin, where she reminded me that she too is going through  major weight fluxuations, as well as most other Lymies out there. It's often part of the healing process, she reminded me, especially for a disease that throws off your thyroid, metabolism, and digestion so much.
• I scheduled a massage for myself next week, as a way to honor my body and make it feel GOOD!

Where I struggled:

• Forgetting to be mindful when I eat.  
• Not having time to cook! I've been way too busy, I really overbooked myself this Fall and I'm feeling overextended.  I'm feeling better this week, since I have prepared food in the fridge for my busy nights.
• The late night snacking. A few nights I succumbed to my urges and pigged out while listening to the BBC World News at 11 pm. Oops. 
• Putting on cold-weather clothes from last year and - GASP - not fitting them properly, or at all. This was a major ego blow, and made me feel awful and sad and bad about my body.  I know that's extreme, but I'm just being honest here, folks.
• Not having/finding/making time to exercise as much as I'd like.  

My goals for the next week:

• Start doing gentle yoga again before work, starting with a very reasonable and easy to work-in 15 minutes of sun salutations.
• Take saunas in my FAR infrared sauna box before bed. I love how this makes me feel, and I need to make time for it again.
• Keep avoiding late-night snacking!
• Get to the gym 4 times to swim, or as often as I can.
• Practice mindful breathing before eating, and eat only when I'm sitting down!

xoxo

Kim

the end of old habits, the start of something new

I don't talk about weight all that often on my blog. Sure, I've brought it up from time to time, but it isn't something I make a regular habit of discussing. But I've hit a wall. A heavy wall. I feel uncomfortable in my skin. Things aren't where they should be and I just don't feel good about myself right now.

I've always struggled with my weight. I was a chubby kid, a chubbier teenager, and topped out at my maximum weight of 245 pounds in college. I slowly lost weight after graduation, but still felt uncomfortable. I always thought of myself as the fat girl, an identity that still bubbles up in the depths of my psyche. Old habits are hard to break, and seeing myself as undesirable, unattractive, and uncomfortable with my body was something that tormented me for years, and still it is a habit that still rears its ugly head from time to time. Thankfully, I am learning to break down those mental traps, and am finally beginning to see the beauty that is me, inside and out.

Despite this, it doesn't change the fact that right now, my body is in need of a bit of maintenance. The last few years have been a rocky ride, and I have been all over the scale. When I was very sick in 2008, I rapidly lost 60 pounds in about 6 months. I ended up at an unhealthy 145 pounds, which looked skeletal and unnatural on my 5'11" large frame.   I was skinny, for the first time in my life, and it was horrible. I looked terrible, I felt worse.  The worst part is that many people told me I looked great.  Our culture's association of skinny = healthy is so warped.

As I've gotten healthier, I've slowly gained back weight.  My gut is healing and my blood sugar is stabilizing and I'm absorbing nutrients again. I no longer look grey and lifeless. My hair is shiny and my skin is bright. My menstrual cycle even returned - it was absent for 2 1/2 years. It's like a miracle. My curvaceous, hourglass figure has returned; my hips are full, and I have cleavage again.  

Unfortunately, my weight gain hasn't stopped, and I've continued to add curves, and more curves, and more curves... While it may be side effect from my Lyme medication, issues with my thyroid, or some other medical issue, I think it is more an issue of not having enough physical activity and just eating too much. I love to eat and I'm not real keen on using the treadmill. I have no portion control. I tend to snack and eat mindlessly. Snacking late at night is a common occurance. I need to reevaluate my relationship with food; it is something that has always been a comfort and a refuge, and at times, it takes over my brain. In addition to practicing more mindful eating habits, I need to get some exercise in. Lifting a fork, unfortunately, doesn't count. I miss feeling strong, and seeing my muscles ripple under the surface of toned flesh. I don't like having muffin tops over the tops of my jeans - even if they are gluten-free muffin tops. I want my nice Gore-tex parka to fit again. I want to feel sexy and strong and confident, and that my body reflects who I want to be inside.

Right now, I don't feel any of those things.  My current weight, which fluctuates around 185 pounds, is just too much. I felt really good at about 165-170 pounds with more muscle tone, and would like to feeling like that again.  I would like to lose weight in a healthy way that doesn't compromise my healing process and work on building muscle and toning.  But I'm a little nervous; I tend to get obsessive when trying to lose weight. Food journals are not healthy for me; counting calories makes me crazy and I get too restrictive. I have some disordered eating tendencies that create a very slippery slope for me, and I have to make sure I'm not slipping into self-destructive thought processes and habits. 

So, I am making a public commitment to ending old habits and starting new ones, and taking a balanced approach focused on how I'm FEELING and not how I LOOK. Thankfully, I am healthy and well enough to start gentle exercise again (YAY for Lyme treatment!!!!), and need to take advantage of these huge leaps in my healing process. I need to fully honor my respect for food and follow my own advice when making choices to eat, practicing mindfulness and portion control. I need to return more diligently to a diet that I know makes me feel good - lots of meat and veggies, no grains, moderate amounts of beans, seeds, and nuts, and lots of healthy fats. And most importantly, I need to send loving kindness into every cell of my being.  

Hopefully, this process will allow me to learn where my ideal weight is, and learn  new habits that exemplify who I want to be and how I want to view myself. Wish me luck.  To kick it off, I'm starting with three simple and easily attainable goals.

WEEKLY GOALS: 

1. Stop late night snacking. Seriously.
2. Take five deep breaths every time before I eat. Think about the food, imagine it nourishing my body, and check in with myself to assess how hungry I really am. 
3. Go the gym and do light resistance training 2-3 times this week. 

CURRENT WEIGHT: 192 pounds (whoa, what? I almost fell off the scale when I saw this...)

HOW I'M FEELING: Shocked the scale told me that weight, first of all. Otherwise, I'm feeling really weak in my core, totally squishy everywhere, and wishing I had well-defined arm muscles again. I'd prefer that my pants didn't feel so tight at the waist and in the hips as well.  On the plus side, I've been biking to work again the last week and that feels super great. Hooray!

fear, anxiety, and reproduction

I wrote this back in April and came across it in my drafts section today. I felt ready to share it.

for most of my early 20s, i never had much interest in the idea of having children. it was something that scared me. it seemed like too big a commitment. i just wasn't really all that driven to reproduce. i was okay with that.

then, around age 25, something shifted. i started to feel it. the urge. at first, it took me my surprise. then i got more comfortable with the idea, and decided firmly that  YES i want to have children, some day.  i want to be a mother. i want to show children of my own all the beauty the world has to offer. 

a year later, my health was in a downward spiral and my menstrual cycle stopped.  my life hasn't been the same since, and it is completely unlike that of most people i know.  many of my friends have found themselves in long-term relationships, and many have started planning for families of their own, or actually having children...on purpose.  yes, that's right; i am now in that age category when people plan to have babies, and don't just end up with them by accident.

one could say that i, too, engaged in a long-term relationship.  but mine? mine was with chronic illness. 

not exactly what i envisioned.

chronic illness is not a good partner.  you never know what mood it will be in, and you never know how it will respond. it does not make you breakfast on saturday mornings. it does not surprise you with flowers. it does not talk you down from a bad day at work, and it does not bring you tea when you're sick.  

 when the time is right, i will find love.  and when i do, i know that i want children some day. but this dream seems impossible. even if i wanted to right now, i couldn't get pregnant; my menstrual cycle is still depressingly absent.  all things willing, this will change. but even if it does, i'm not sure that i should have children. i know many women who didn't know they were sick with Lyme when they got pregnant. now they have chronically ill children.

  the medical community seems to be unclear on the possibility of congenital lyme, but these women know that their kids are sick for a reason.  these women didn't have a choice; they didn't know they had lyme, they didn't know their children would be sick too.

but me? i have a choice.

 if i know i could pass this to a fetus, it seems irresponsible to take that risk.  every time I watch that pregnant woman with lyme in Under our Skin, I cringe. I want to scream at her and say, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!!!!???"  I don't want to knowingly set my child up for a life of sickness.

i know this is jumping the gun.  i know there are many women with lyme who have had healthy children.  there are tests you can run, you can get breastmilk tested, you can take antibiotics to keep the fetus healthy, and it can be done, or so I've heard. and i'm not even in a position right now where having children is an option.  but these thoughts still make me wonder if i will ever have the opportunity.

this makes my unripe uterus - and my heart - literally ache with grief.  it makes me feel like i cannot fulfill my biological potential as a woman. it makes me sad that i may never feel the strong connection with a child that i do with my own mother.  i feel like i am letting down my familial bloodline. i fear that it will hinder someone's desire to have me as their wife.

i know that worrying about this stuff is unnecessary right now, and all I can do is focus on my healing. but it is real. i feel it and it hurts.  as someone that for years never really wanted children, i am shocked at how much this pains me and causes me anxiety. I have so much love to give, and I know that there are many children in need of love. But the innate desire to carry my own child is something that I just can't shake. 

In time, my body will tell me what the right choice is, and I will honor that choice, and encourage my heart to follow.

I think I figured it out.

I think I know when I got bit by that tick.  I just put this together and it is kind of blowing my mind.

I think was in August 2006 at a party on Marine on St. Croix.  It was a birthday party for my former landlord's partner at their friend's beautiful house out in the country.  We all sat outside, relaxing in the wilderness.  Later in the night I threw off my clothes and jumped in the hot tub, leaving my clothes in a pile.

It's not like I noticed a tick or anything, or noticed a bite.

But one day in late August, I woke up with a little red rash on my leg.  It started as just  a small dot, then over the course of a few days took over my leg.  I remember thinking, "Is this a tick bite?" but not being able to imagine how that would have been possible.  It didn't look like a bullseye rash, it had a funny shape and was growing in a very strange way.  I and never saw a tick.  But it proceeded to grow and expand, becoming painful and red and bumpy and itchy. I felt sick and fluey. I went to my general practitioner at the time, who had no idea what was going on and was totally unhelpful.  He said it was cellulitis, and put me on an antibiotic or something. It didnt' go away. So I went to another doctor, totally irritated with his lack of help, and she referred me to a dermatologist, who was also totally confused. I was put on steroid creams and got a shot  in the butt of another steroid. Eventually it went away.  But it took weeks and I felt terrible. At the time I remember thinking how strange it was, so I took pictures of its progression over time.  Clearly,  I've always been observant (uh, hyperaware) of what is going on with my body...

Someday I'll find them and upload them.  I don't feel like doing it right now because I'm crabby. My sauna box stopped working this morning, I need it bad, and I'm pissed off about it.

anyway, not long after that whole bite incident my period went crazy. I had it for two months straight.  My gynocologist at the time had no idea what was going on and didn't make any connection to the bite or all the steriods, despite me telling her things had been strange ever since.  Eventually, my period regulated again.  But I started feeling all out of whack.  In retrospect, I think a lot of what I was going through emotionally was probably the start of my Lyme Disease life.  I was starting to feel unhappy in my relationship at the time, was feeling depressed and anxious.  Granted, there were lots of other life transitions going on too that contributed.  But I do remember feeling particularly out of sorts.  My relatinoship ended, I moved to a different apartment, and proceeded to take on a totally different lifestyle post-break up - as many people do - of drinking and partying and staying out late and shopping a lot.  I remember feeling sick a lot, although all the booze must have had something to do witih that. My skin was terrible.  My digestion was worse.  Things were getting all crazy. After I got the Gardasil vaccine in October 2007 things only got worse, and it was 3 months after that when things really started getting bad.

For a long time, I pictured the Gardasil vaccine as the beginning of my downward spiral. But looking back, I think it started after that rash. Previous to that, I certainly had my fair share of issues - allergies, digestive problems, depression.  But generally, I was managing.  Thriving, really; I had just completed two triathlons and a 300 mile bike race, had loads of energy, and was able to manage my depression and anxiety very well.  My period was like clockwork.  Things were, for the most part, pretty good.  But after?  More stuff started going wrong. My period was irregular for the first time every. I remember feeling more and more of an emotional wreck. I was acting in ways that were very atypical. I remember getting sick more and having swollen glands and getting more hives and having worse allergies.  My ability to exercise well had decreased.

Who knows.  Maybe I got bit before as a kid, then got bit again at that party. Maybe that rash was somethign else. Or maybe that party was when it happened.  Really, it doens't matter.  But realizing the timing around that party and realizing it probably had something to do with my infection was kind of an eye opener.  It blows my mind a little bit, and it feels weird to think about.

If it was back in 2006, that means I've only had it about 3 1/2 years, which isn't all that bad, and would explain why I'm not as terribly sick as some people.  I just can't imagine that crazy rash didn't have soemthing to do with it.  I've talked to my doctor about the rash and he thinks it is definitely possible that was the source.

Does it matter? No? But do I want to know WHEN this all started? You bet.  People want answers. People want to have solid knowledge. In my life, Lyme is nothing but shifting sands.  Nothing solid. It is frustrating.