You are what you eat

You are what you eat

 

You are (literally, made of) what you eat. Sure you have bones and muscle and blood, but the quality and integrity of each atomic particle that makes up your entire body consists of chemical compounds different than those of other people. Due to the following chemicals being injected into animals, a person who eats a large amount of meat, dairy and eggs is going to have higher levels of antibiotics, steroids, or growth hormones in their system. A vegan, who doesn’t eat those animal products at all, will have a lower level, although there are chemicals they need to be watchful for based on a plant diet. http://www.livescience.com/26278-risks-raw-vegan-diet.html

This is NOT a ‘Be a Vegan Pledge’, not that it's a bad way of eating at all. It's called Eat Real Food. This is a ‘Pay attention to what you put in your body’ plea.

 

They do have free-range; non-anything-injected cows and chickens, which is at least a good way to start. The down side is that the animal is still slaughtered, and the manner in which it is killed can be just as alarming. They dump a lot of emotions and stress into their circulation system as they’re dying.     We are eating pain and fear.

        And then all that meat tastes even better deep fried, with deep fried appetizers, and deep friend ice cream for dessert. An excessive amount of flour, oil and chemical laden foods should be something of concern if it’s consumed often. GMO’s and pesticides are causing a vast amount of damage to your system too! That’s a novel itself.

It’s all about the quality of life

 

        The better the quality of your food is, the better the quality of you as a whole in body, mind and spirit. Do not underestimate your body's need for water and green vegetables.

        The poorer the quality of food, the harder your body has to work to process that artificial junk, and then it’s those chemicals and smells and secretions that our body then emits.

It has to come get out somehow.

 

 

 Fruit, vegetables, seeds, nuts, beans and grains don’t need instruction manuals. Those are things called “FOOD”. The most simplest definition:  GROWS FROM GROUND

 

 

Other than having a different kind of chemical imbalance, possibly, what do you smell like when you sweat?  Is it an unusually high amount of foul odor?  Does it smell like McDonalds? Do you eat like shit? Does all your food have microwavable directions?

You know what a vegans sweat smells like? Fucking coconut water. ;)

 

Let’s talk about down south. Dark urine, orange or neon green, would generally suggest that you are dehydrated or need to lay off the Mountain Dew.
Do your farts smell like they could choke a donkey? That would be the aroma of greasy, sugary, artificially incrusted shit coated in a vast amount of junk and processed slime.

 

 

                          If YOU don’t know what it is, your body doesn’t either!  

 

        Do the ingredients on the pre-packaged foods you impulsively eat out of habit, stress, trauma, or addiction contain several words you can’t even pronounce except for FLOUR, SUGAR, OIL, ARTIFICIAL COLORS, ARTIFICAL FLAVORS, etc?

 

Back to the animal injections

Question anything the Food and Drug Administration tells you is safe.
https://www.fda.gov/AnimalVeterinary/SafetyHealth/ProductSafetyInformation/ucm055435.htm

 

Why do the animals need to be injected with so many antibiotics? Is the meat constantly getting infected?! The regular intake of antibiotics causes our bodies to be immune over time in harmony with prescribed antibiotics, and later when it’s a serious illness it necessitates a higher dosage to be effective.

Then you have steroids. What the hell do animals need steroids for?! Are they trying out for the NFL or something?!

Let’s say you run a chicken farm. You got baby chickens that won’t be big enough, to sell to the butcher or start laying eggs, for another 6 to 7 months. So you give those babies RED BULL because Red Bull gives you wings, chicken wings. Yes, steroids will have that baby chicken big enough to slaughter in half the time. You just doubled your profits. And the eggs you get from these steroid chickens, well, they are sold at a higher price due to being Extra-Extra-Large.

        And ah, last but not least, the lovely Growth hormones. The kinds of growth hormones that will have you go bra and feminine pad shopping and have the period talk with your 8 year old daughter. These are the kind of hormones that can increase the growth of tumors as well. The kinds of growth hormones make other things grow faster in your body!

 

You know your body better than anyone. Listen to it.

Back up 3 years ago

My doctor had informed me during my annual blood work that my cholesterol was skyrocketing. I was pretty sure that cholesterol was directly related to the amount of oil you consumed so I didn’t understand why. I told him that on average I consumed very little oil.  After looking up my meds, it was obvious that it was a side effect from the medications I was already on and then he wanted to give me a pill to lower my cholesterol. Ummm, but it’s high because of a pill. What side effect will I have after that new pill?

http://www.webmd.com/drug-medication/news/20150508/most-prescribed-top-selling-drugs

It was time to make some radical changes.

I started researching several of my autoimmune diagnosis’ such as Fibromyalgia, Endometriosis, Degenerative Disk Disease, Muscular Connective Tissue Disorder, etc, and physical symptoms of fatigue, chronic pain, foggy memory, grogginess, anxiety, panic and mood swings and couldn’t put my finger on why they were so bad, especially when I was obviously on psychiatric medications for all the mood swings and bouts of anger and panic attacks! I had no idea how to help with the physical part, but apparently the psych meds were useless.
 

http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/fibromyalgia/basics/definition/CON-20019243

        Why do I still feel sick? What am I taking this med for when I’m now in different situation in life, that I was prior to, but still have severe mood swings!? I’m in a different relationship, with more peaceful surroundings, less toxic people, less stress, less life problems, more positive personal growth, well being, less physical work, more focus on my health….it has all led me to stopping my medications, and changing my diet.

 

It was time to be proactive and research for myself because something’s got to give.

 When I read an article discussing the Top 10 signs of Gluten Intolerance a light went on. I slumped back in chair staring at the screen, and what I saw was,

 “This is why you’re sick and take medication”. It was an epiphany. And the doctors agreed.

http://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-7482/10-signs-youre-gluten-intolerant.html

 

I had made a food journal. I was determined to find out the cause for sure. I also suffered from bad allergies. I was so utterly exhausted and fatigued daily that by lunch time, I was going down for a 3-5 hour nap. I was completely spent. I had already filed for disability due to chronic pain and multiple surgeries from failing health. It just kept getting worse, and decades of full time work while raising kids on top of being sick was only wearing me down faster.

I dove in head first with stopping gluten just to see if that was it. Within 48 hours I realized that too much flour made me tired, and sugar made my muscles hurt and burn. 

Boom. No questions asked. No complaints. I knew it would be hard, and I had no idea how much I was going to have to relearn to eat, but snap, just like that, I was convinced, and felt the change 10 fold.

I stopped all wheat flour, and about 90 % sugar.

My fatigue reduced by 75%. I reduced my medications all by an average of 75%. (I completely cut 3, and reduced the other 3 by half) I wasn’t horribly tired any more. I didn’t hurt as much. I had more energy. I felt better. I went GLUTEN FREE. I lost weight and felt like a brand new woman!

I also stopped getting sick. I haven’t had the flu and only 1 cold in 3 years. Not one times have I needed antibiotics. (For the record, we’ve been homeschooling the kids for almost 3 years too, so they are not around so many sick kids as much as public schools) I use natural medicine, herbs, oils, and extra medicinal green herbs. I have numerous autoimmune diseases and I don’t get sick! So many mental and physical things changed. The sugar made my injuries burn. The flour instantly made me grouchy and fatigued, and the crash of excess sugar made me angry and jittery. WTF

 I didn’t need psychiatric medications to regulate my moods!!
 I needed a changed in DIET!!

        I am shocked, still to this day 3 years later that by completely cutting gluten, cutting sugar way back, eating far less artificial foods, and way more real food made a whole world of difference.

        I can’t stop the progression of anything. It has gotten worse and I still get tired and the pain is unbearable at times. I’m still disabled. I still have injuries caused by my joints falling apart. But if I hadn’t made that change, my quality of life could be dangerously close to giving up.

 

I made a change to myself that a pill couldn’t touch.

 

If you or a loved one is suffering from ANY autoimmune disease, I highly suggest you help them research the benefits and discomforts of each food or medicine that they intake.

FEMESPLAINING TO MEN: I changed the gasoline to the highest level of octane and the performance is phenomenally better.

When there aren't enough spoons

There isn't really a short simple title that says....

I'm a Stay at home mom SAHM
I'm Disabled
We travel full time by RV (most of the year, hibernate in winter)
I home school twin boys.

I am a stay-at-home, disabled, full-time traveling, twin boy road-schooling mom. I wonder if that would fit on a business card.

I used to say "I'm an accountant". Life can throw a nasty curve ball called "I bet you thought everything was going great. Now watch this". Enter severely bad health and multiple surgeries along with a lot of DV.
(This is a good site. If you are NOT SAFE AND IN FEAR, PLEASE GO TO THIS WEBSITE AND LEAVE QUICKLY http://domesticviolence.org/)

The Spoon Theory

 https://butyoudontlooksick.com/articles/written-by-christine/the-spoon-theory/

The idea behind this is that you have so many spoons for the day or week. These spoons are your energy. Some days it takes all my spoons to get out of bed. Other days I hope to still have a spoon left for sex. If my husband helps with things during the day, which he does if he can, I have spoons left for that night.
Sometimes I start the day with negative spoons, which means I can't do anything and just hope that tomorrow I wake up with one.

There are 168 hours in a week 

I'm going to average this since there are many things that only happen once a week, or once a month.

Average week: 

Sleeping = 42 hours (if I'm lucky) If I slept 8 hours a night, I would have zero time left after everything else. The less hours of sleep I get, the less spoons I wake up with. The more sleep I get, the more spoons I have, but the less time I have to do anything.
This, is the chronic pain conundrum.

Teaching home school = 25 hours (not including PE, arts n crafts, science experiments, museums, field trips, etc AND cleaning it up. 

Preparing/cooking and serving 3 meals a day = 7-10 hours (sometimes we eat out, or hub helps)

Dishes/scrubbing/sweeping/mopping and general cleaning = 10 hours weekly average at least

Laundry/grocery shopping/errands = 10 hours easy 

Traveling assistant; making 20 phone calls to campgrounds, Rv parks, motels/hotels, any place to stay, car or truck rental, mapping the route, or co-pilot, assistanting in all aspects of traveling, mapping every location along the way and places we'll need once there, finding gas stations, places to eat, laundromats, checking prices, numerous online searches, research, contracts, hiring, etc (since this doesn't happen every week, I'll say the average is) 5-10 hours 

Doctor appts = 1 hour average (unless I have to drive or fly from our job site, then its several hours, if not a day or two)

Bathing/primping/manicuring = 5 hours 

Traveling is not every week, but on average, driving time is = 5-10 (average a few days a month)

Referring, playing with and entertaining fighting twins, taking care of pets = 10 hours 

Due to chronic pain, it takes at least an hour every morning to get out of bed, take my pills, drink coffee, and pray for a good day = 10 hours, at least. If not at least an hour, I'll start throwing those 'spoons'.

 

Making necessary phone calls, paying bills, helping everyone do everything else = 2 hours 

So apparently I have a few hours a day to myself where much needed rest and recouperation is greatly needed. And in that space, we try to have quality time for us. 

Mind you, I am mentally (Ptsd and anxiety) and physically disabled (endo, fibro, mctd) for life, have a permanently dislocated unusable shoulder (that needs a state of the art surgery), suffer from severe chronic pain and migraines, and can not function normally on a daily basis.
 

http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/post-traumatic-stress-disorder/home/ovc-20308548
https://www.womenshealth.gov/a-z-topics/endometriosis
http://www.webmd.com/fibromyalgia/default.htm
http://www.medicinenet.com/mixed_connective_tissue_disease/article.htm
 

It's still not always good enough. If I'm not on top of things daily, I appear lazy. 

When full blown fibro flares kick in, I am down for days at a time. Whatever my man can't help with, since he works, is all still waiting for me when I'm better. I don't have a team of helpers to do my job for me when I can't.

I just hope it's good enough.
 

Guest blog for Screw Depression

I've been blogging for almost 6 months now, and it seems so natural. I can't figure out why I didn't start this earlier. Oh yeah, my mom read my diary, and I was terrified anyone would know my inner most thoughts and feelings. Which all in of itself is ironic, since I had always planned on writing about just that.

I became disabled a few years back when, after a nervous breakdown, and complete loss of thinking capabilities led me to further destroy everything around me, that hadn't been destroyed already.

My Fibro got worse. My Endo required surgeries. I was getting garnished way to much money at work from my first ex husband (the one who has 50/50 custody of my older boys, that he won't let me see, because he is still obsessed with punishing me for leaving him.) All the stress was causing me to fail school, which I had started, again, in hopes of getting out of the rut of being a single mom and barely getting by.

After 18 months of being successful, and then failing (as I see it) I went back to him. The Abuser. The second ex-husband. I spent 10 years in a marriage where I wore the pants in the family, and he couldn't say boo unless I told him to. That's not my idea of a marriage. Some women like control. Some women don't like raising a husband.
So the next guy was the complete opposite. His evil slowly came out after I got pregnant (quickly).
It got even worse after I married him. That didn't last long, thank goodness.

There are so many painful memories from my childhood. I know for a fact that there are a lot of good ones too, but I can't remember too many of those. Those are the ones that fade away. The evil that was done, is what creeps up on me when I lay down, when I see something that reminds me of my past, when I hear something, and even when I smell something. There is that 'smack in the face' flashback that keeps ripping, little by little, the last fragment of hope and happiness that you carry around.


I'm on the road to recovery. It's a slow, painful process, but it's still a forward process. I have Bipolar 2 rapid cycling. That means I can change moods quickly, and without warning, and I am a prisoner to it. A prisoner. I'm a prisoner in my own body and am always arguing with the warden. Sometimes I get put in the hole. Sometimes I'm let out in general public, with a warning.

It's frustrating, having other moods, an almost unknown entity, make your decisions, carry out plans, and talk to people when it doesn't even feel like 'you'. The real you stays at home, cries, is miserable, depressed, bored, lonely, battling so much in your head. The other 'you' is the one that goes out in public, talks to people, goes grocery shopping, runs errands, pays bills, goes to meetings at the kid's school, talks to acquaintances, and acts 'normal'. When shit hits the fan, the real you comes out and no one recognizes. Now you seem different and fake. If they only knew you were out of your comfort zone and a stronger version of you stepped in until you can go back home and fall apart. It's so much work.

Anxiety, agoraphobia, depression, mania, chronic pain, surgeries, relationships, bills,..it all seems to come crashing down on me at once. I have to fight to dig thru each one, one at a time before more comes down. PTSD, the wonderful life of having flashbacks, not just memories, but full on visual and mental experiences, like you're right there. Someone may raise their hand to give you a high five, and you're ducking because you think you're going to get hit. People don't like that, now you're weird, and omg how could you think I was going to hit you? calm down jeez. If I had control of my memories, I would have done wiped out the bad ones long ago.

No, I don't like the bad thoughts, and I try to re-group and focus on the now as soon as I can. I don't go around telling people everything that's wrong with me, but I am opening up a lot more now. People are interested, they ask questions, they're curious. Hmm, you don't seem super crazy, maybe you're a cool person after all. Educate. De-stigma.

Have you ever had an open conversation with someone who came right out and said, 'I am bipolar. I am OCD, I'm on anti-psychotic medication and there is nothing I can do about it for the rest of my life'? Probably not. But that cool chick you were talking to at the park, the lady in front of you at the register, the kid's mom next to you at the school parking lot, the guy playing ball with his kids, the teenager who dresses wierd, the neighbor you sometimes wave to? I bet they have some mental issues, and you'd never know.

So the next time you see someone who seems a little strange, give them a smile, say hi, you might just brighten up their whole week, because you noticed them. You acknowledged their presense.

Endometriosis is for girls

Endometriosis is non-cancerous little tumors and sores that grow on the inside of your uterus. Sometimes referred to as lesions or adhesion. It hurts, as in hurt like being punched in the baby maker and in serious pain and you want to cry like a little girl for your mommy to make it go away. It turns you into that girl from the movie "I'm Gonna Get You Sucka". This dude was going to hurt her and she turns around with her face all distorted and screams I GOT CRAMPS and his friend comes running cuz he heard someone scream like a girl.

Your periods are more painful, more bleeding, cramping, in the fetal position, way more than your normal shitty period. This will put you down for a few days. My daughter has been suffering with it for a few years now and thanks me for it every month. I'm like, uh thank all the woman before me too because there is Fibromyalgia, lots of allergies, Rheumatoid Arthritis: its all Auto-Immune problems, maternally inherited....One day we might have lupus or something else, who knows.

So I clearly noticed something was very wrong when the twins were about 6 months old and one crawled across my stomach and it felt like it was pregnant! And it hurt like I was. I had three kids already so I know what it feels like when you get jumped on by a toddler right on your precious pregnant belly! I felt it and pushed on it, and oh ya it felt like I was about 2-3 months but I knew I wasn't because I had a C section and had my tubes tied. This was not good.

This is what happened over the next 2 years! Mind you during this whole time I have infant to toddler twins.

 I work full time and come home to an abusive man half that year, the other year and a half was more peace and hard work, including two surgeries, lost two jobs and my dad died. What a fucking year!

I go to the doctor, same OB who delivered them. At this hospital the staples were taken out at 36 hours and we were all sent home at 42 hours. Yes, I had an emergency C-section with twins and we were not even there 48 hours. (AND the nurse laughed when I was scared about her taking out the staples, and said "Ha Ha, what, are you afraid your stomach is going to fall out?, uh YAH!)  And when I cough/sneezed the day after getting out, and bloody water gushed out of my sliced open stomach, I wanted to take my clothes to the hospital and rub it in that nurses face and say "Oh yah, then whats this bitch, not from my stomach huh?"


ANYWAY, he examines and yes I definitely need an ultrasound to see whats going on. If he wasn't the actual doctor that tied my tubes he would have thought I was pregnant. He felt around up there like he was looking for his watch or something and doing that push down on your lower abdomen thing. I almost pushed his nuts up his groin with my foot. My periods were horrible and there was way too much pain involved. He said that he would start me on some hormone treatment and probably have one within 6 months. Huh?
Not to mention that this stuff is rarely seen on an ultrasound.

Unfortunately we moved out of state. For every other reason than my health it was time to move. For that exact reason I should have stayed. Once we moved, it took forever to get insurance, find a doctor, get my records sent over and have a few exams. This is already a few months. I'm getting worse. This new doctor puts me on birth control. Birth control. I have had 5 kids and my tubes tied, the last thing I need is birth control, considering that they mess with my hormones anyway. I am trying to tell the doctor this. It's falling on deaf ears.

Over the next few months, again more ultrasounds, more exams, more tests, more follow-ups to the follow up. Finally! A referral to a surgeon. I go see him and he does his whole poking around thing and looks at this and that and says ok, lets schedule this.

One of the happiest moments in my life. Someone finally listened to me after complaining about this for over a year. Getting surgery is pretty serious too.


The surgery goes well and I wake up in the recovery area for Birthing/New Mothers. It was an OB who did it, so I recovered on his turf. It was weird being the only one there without a baby. I thought of babies I had lost, and then I thought of woman who have lost theirs in childbirth. How sad and lonely to be the only woman in the baby section without a baby. The nurses liked me. I was easy to deal with. In fact, I got to spend most of my recovery hanging out in the nurses station holding the newborns. My babymaker was dead and buried so I was going to hold, and give back other newborns.

As it turned out, the Endometriosis had spread extensively and became Adenomiosis, which means same thing but on the outside of the uterus. I didn't realize at the time what that would implicate. Later I would learn that means that it still continues to grow inside your body. Fast forward 6 months later and I had to have a ping pong sized Endo tumor removed from inside my muscle wall of my abdomen, which ripped apart my muscle when it burst, at 2 AM. I thought my intestines burst or something. It was hot and painful and had
this spreading sensation. I thought I was in serious trouble.

The surgery for that was pretty easy. I was only there a few hours actually. It's amazing the technology today. Cut open your gut and your home for dinner. It was painful until then though. This constant knot in my muscle wall. It was just 'there'. Make it go away. It would grow and shrink through out the month and I hated it.

This is the short version of the Endo story. Diagnosed. Hysterectomy. Tumors redevelop. Surgery. My lower back and lower abdomen hurt. It still feels like there are baby tumors growing. All the cutting open from the C-section, hysterectomy, tumor removal happened in 2 1/2 years. The last 2 were 6 months apart. I lost a lot of weight. Let me tell you surgery wipes you out for a long time. I just suffer now. Endo grows on scar tissue so I think there is enough of that down there for now.

It should be the same diet for a cancer paitent. Nothing to help it grow. I try to watch what I eat (too much coffee, sugar, chocolate, red meat makes it worse) before I put it in my mouth. It's hard. There is a different diet for every ailment. But there is no cure. Some woman get better after birth control pills, pregnancy, and in the extreme cases yes, a hysterectomy. But I come from Murphys' Law which states that it will go wrong for me. So even after that, still a tumor, and after that I still have it.

And the whole time I'M SINGLE MOM WITH TWINS. I DID IT ALL BY MYSELF.

Endo sucks, it really does. It's for girls!

The Phantom Bleeder

          I had a hysterectomy a few years back for Endometriosis but opted to keep my run-down ovaries, that is if they looked ok when the doc went in. They weren't too bad so that's all that's left of my womanhood down there, other than my boobs, I mean I'm still a girl ok, even if everything is a little run down or lower that it used to be.

          So this phantom bleeder that I've mentioned, it sucks. My daughter is on her period, her friends probably are, both of our dogs are in heat. Damn bleeding bitches. I feel everything still, just a little less than before.

     It only makes me want to choke a little less of the people that cross my path so that's good for them too. My lower back still hurts and I still feel cramping but that's just the Endo that got left behind that flares up with any surge of hormones. (Seriously, so much got left behind, they have to keep going in and cutting it out, and yet Endo grows on scar tissue, so it's this wonderful merry go round.) I still get emotional, irritable...all the same stuff that happens on a period, only I don't bleed. I also have no way of knowing when it's coming. There's no PMS. There's no warning. One day I'm Mary Poppins, the next....Medusa. I made cookies for the kids one time, and ate most of them the next day. It came on that fast. At this point, I'm looking forward to menopause, because I don't know how long I can handle menobroken-record.

Between that, the Fibro and arthritis I creak and hobble around. It looks like I'm trying to do the "Thriller" video dance down the hallway.


     So I'm "phantom bleeding" right now and I just wish I only had to do this every 6 months like the dogs. My daughter put a doggie diaper on her little one, it's her first heat. It was cute. You just have to take it off or change it every time you take them out to use the restroom.

A diaper you have to take off so you can pee. Fascinating. I had toddlers that did that without asking, bless their pissing little heart.



I got one for my dog and it would be fit for a small pony. But then I probably would forget to take it off so she could go outside and then freak out cuz she can't get the poop out and run around trying to figure out what to do, with crap hanging out as she's dragging her ass on the ground trying to get that contraption off of her. It was way more of a mess than anticipated. Then the dog got a hysterectomy. She's just mad she can't have chocolate. 

My phantom period has all the trademarks, moody, emotional, irritable, hungry, need chocolate, in pain, muscle cramps, crying during commercials. I had a hysterectomy 10 freaking years ago, and the lack of bleeding is literally the only difference. And now I get to be anemic. I wish there was some type of expiration date on these things that actually made sense. Like, one day you push out a kid, and your whole uterus just pops out too. "Oh you have a girl, and you graduated periods! Congratulations!!"

Being on the rag though, ugh....
I'm pretty sure that's how it got the name "the rag". A long time ago, the first bleeder could only think of one thing, stick a towel up that freaking faucet. I'm so glad I didn't have to clean out bloody wash clothes over and over. I don't remember seeing too many stories about that in Little House on the Prarie..."Oh no Laura, it's that time of month? Do you happen to have any spare rags in your outhouse?"

Sure Betty, they're next to the corn cobs. We got Pa's old hankies and Ma's dish towels, depending on your flow.