Said the Flight of The Concords in 2005.

Total blackout in Gaza as we speak.

What does that mean?

Loss of connection to the outside world.

No cameras, no phones, no communication.

A license to kill and the world is silent.

For what it is worth, this blood is on our hands. All of us.

We don’t know what will happen within these few hours, but if we had thought it was bad before… Now it will be a real genocide.

From one side of the fence is ruthless violence, revenge and blood-thirst; from the other a a few trucks, mercy, and an unconditional willingness to save lives.

What we are losing these days are not people, not some thousand of children that are yet to learn how to write their names.

What we are losing are not mothers that didn’t have a chance to bid farewell to their babies.

What we lost today are not fathers that didn’t get the chance to keep their promises of keeping their families safe.

What we lost today is our humanity.

#endwarnow

Dear Menopause,

In my last post I was talking about menopause; how brutally fast it hit me and how I felt I was rubbed from my youth.

It took me two good days of crying to calm down. My flight instinct is usually the first to kick in, and you guessed it right: I couldn’t escape from my ovaries…

So there I was, equipped with an acquired skill of acceptance and with lots of support and encouragement from my family, I had no choice but to start using my good old brain.

I looked at my soon to be 43 years of life and thought about them hard. My childhood wasn’t the happiest time of my life. My early teens were definitely unhappy years. By 16 I had lost my mother and was deeply depressed. I had a few good years from 18 to 24 then bam hormones kicked in and I was not 100 percent. With lots of good will I managed to get through to 29 and then I got pregnant.

Now I know I had postpartum depression, but at the time I didn’t. Motherhood was beautiful, would never have wanted anything else, but I was tired. A few good years from 33 to 36, and then the apocalypse.

Up till my forties I was silently surviving bipolar and I also didn’t know it. My second birth gave me a bigger postpartum depression that was accompanied by a period of change. If you are a regular visitor, you know the rest. If not here is the summary.

I got prescribed antidepressants and soon discovered they made me manic. A couple of years went by – hellish, painful, and dark. From one psychiatrist to the other, from one hospital to the other I went without any hope to feel better.

I suffered so much and so did my family and friends. The only exciting topic in my mind would be imaging my death- the end of suffering.

Finally a cure was in the horizon. I started a new treatment and after this long journey now I am as stable as I can be. I tapered down my old medication and got started on high dose levothyroxine along with Rtms.

Back to the subject at hand.

I feel so lucky and blessed to have had our children in my early 30’s. If I had started therapy with levothyroxine early on in my life, I doubt I would have been able to get pregnant or keep my pregnancy.

I don’t have enough research to back up what I am saying here. But I am quite certain that all hormones are connected, though how exactly I don’t know. For sure my treatment is a life saver. I would have been dead without it.

Yet, there is a price for everything- again this is not backed up by research and it is just a gut feeling. I probably had my perimenopause in my late 30’s and again this too went unnoticed.

Thyroxine protected me – thank you Lord- from the mood swings and depression of this tough period. When I started to have severe migraines and eyesight problems as well as muscle issues I gave it little importance. Then my period stopped and the sonogram said I had a poor egg count. My lab tests put me at post-menopause although am only 42!

I am also happy and fulfilled. I just want to preserve this state as long as I can because now my problem has shifted: I LOVE LIFE!

I might have early aging that I cannot prove to be related to my current therapy, but I AM ALIVE! Doctors do not see a clear link between levothyroxine and early aging. Not sure if it is because no one researched it before, or because they didn’t connect the dots.

I am working hard to preserve my body and mind to be able to live to the fullest. I am not afraid of death – not at all – I just want to live well.

I currently take 5 mg MELATONIN at night to lower my FSH and LH hormones – culprits of many old age diseases – thanks to my dear husband’s brilliant research and mind.

Along with probiotics and multivitamins I take INSTINOL to aid me in this murky period of change. I walk my daily 10 thousand steps and workout 3 times a week.

I eat as clean and lean as I can, wake up early, work hard, and play harder.

Enough with self pity and victimization. I don’t have time. Life is full of joy and has marvelous ways of turning what we first think as negative to be the best thing that ever happened to us. Example: me and my bipolar.

So dear menopause,

Thank you for knocking on my door. Just know dear, although you are welcome, I am not pausing anything now or ever.

I hope my warrior friends are equally fighting with zeal, loving themselves and their graying hairs. Nothing will stop us from being who we are, from being complete and fulfilled.

Let’s keep on shining.

#happily_depressed

Post menopause – a stage that came too soon

One day that started like any other I discovered that both my ovaries and hormones hit the postmenopausal stage.

You would think that you would have the time to transit, to digest it, to say your goodbyes..

You would think that your last period would be a celebration with the words “finally” shouted over and over again.

You would think that you would throw all these pads and tampons away and say “good riddance”…

Yet, this whole stage was as brisk as missing a train by a few minutes. One day you think you are young, next day you have the hormones of a an old woman.

All the stigma, the sitcoms, the jokes, the religious connotations flood my mind.

It is really the M word? Is this it ?

Will everything from now on be downhill?

First thing I blame is society followed by the internet, then biology.

This poor female body of mine, tortured by period cramps requiring painkiller shots at 4 am, these tears that wouldn’t stop for days before menstruation … The food-cravings, the stigma, the tender breasts. The pimple outbreaks and unruly hair…

Then comes sexuality and virginity, followed by another spike in hormones during pregnancy.

A body that undergoes so many changes… expanding, contracting, opening and closing, going through cesarean and vaginal birth, breastfeeding, leaking, with stretch marks, scared, and scarred …

But a woman’s body is magical. It is beautiful.

And so is her mind…

To undergo all these changes and more.. To have the capacity of producing life, and more importantly of sustaining it.

I am ok with with menopause. I think it is just about the timing.

It is too soon for women to reach it in their 40’s. We have just figured out what life means. We have just figured out how to manage a family and a career. We have just thought that everything is supposedly under control.

We had to deal with the monthly visitor for half our lives and now we have to deal with an unwavering one.

We need to come to terms with nature and change yet again. We need to prove to ourselves that it is ok, that we will survive and ultimately be fine. We need to do all this while in control, with all other duties fulfilled.

We need to do this in silence, without drama, without shedding a tear. We need to be content and grateful. We need to be happy that we have reached this stage and that we are finally not going to worry about getting pregnant.

Instead of painkillers now we will be prescribed calcium and hormones. For those of us who are fancy and can afford it, they will tell us don’t worry you can have a natural therapy instead.

I know that somewhere very near or far, a woman just like me is going through menopause. I know that you also have had or are having your doubts or feel and felt scared. I also know that there are millions of women warriors across the globe who have done all this and that and are now grounded and serene.

To all of you queens out there I salute you. I am in owe and admire what you have done and keep on doing. Do tell us that everything will be fine. Talk about the good side of change please, help us your fellow women not be trembling believing this is the end. Send us hope from the other side of this hormonal rainbow. Just please tell us everything will be alright.

To be continued

“C” for Control…

My last post was on how to deal with potential catastrophic situations. I talked about how a negative thought leads to fear and eventually a loss of control over one’s feelings. I also shared with you how I tried to change my thoughts to regain control and navigate those potentially difficult times.

As if the universe was reading my blog, I was faced yesterday with another one of those horrifying surprises.

I don’t know if I would have survived this one have I not been through a similar situation last week. Thought control is not my modus operandi. I discovered that it is a skill that some of us have to learn.

The saying is perhaps true: “No pain, no gain.”

Yesterday I had no choice by practice thought control. It saved me. I didn’t want to be submerged in hopelessness. I didn’t want to be a victim. I didn’t want to be “all about me”. I didn’t want to ask “why me?” or “why now?”.

I knew that these questions were irrelevant. I had to preserve my energy and come out stronger. This is the only way I can survive.

Despite how cliché it sounds, relief to me is found in “it could have been much worse.”

We tend to forget this. There is no limit to catastrophes. Things can always be more painful, or less tolerable.

I think solace is in lack of attachment, in acceptance, in finding the power to stand up again and keep going – all while knowing that you will probably fall down at some point. One has to always create reasons to live – even when there seems to be none.

Over and over again life keeps on proving that it is indeed very short. Moments are never repeated. I am trying to engrave this into my mind. Never to waist time looking at the past or hoping for a different future. Never waiting for an outside source to pull me out, or give me something I that I think I lack. It is really very simple, to the extent that it seems so complicated.

Everything is within. No one or nothing will make us feel complete. Being kind to ourselves is the best type of kindness. The best work one can ever do is working on oneself. The fruits of this labor are the reason we are alive.

Keep on going my friend despite what seems impossible to overcome. Everything eventually is over. But let us be careful, for life also can be over sooner than we know it. So let’s make it count.

#happilydepressed

On navigating difficult moments…

As it is its habit, life puts in our way unexpected events . Little and not so little challenges that we inevitably have to face…

I have always dreaded facing such a situation; one of fear of the unknown, fear of change, fear of loss.

Nothing makes us grow as much as being out to the test. I was faced with one of these frightening situations recently, and yes my first reaction was definitely more negative than anything. I started to see all what could go wrong, with one horrifying scenario unfolding in my mind after the other.

Fast forward, and I reached the darkest thought that I could ever imagine with all its gruesome details. I was lucky at that particular moment that I noticed how my mind affected my body. My heart was racing, I was crying uncontrollably, I couldn’t breathe properly. I had lost all control.

Luckily, I decided that I needed to calm down. I had to find solutions, to think rationally and I was literally paralyzing myself with all the dread I was feeling.

I decided to try and change how I think and stop myself from breaking into a thousand pieces just because of a possibility. I was not certain of any outcome that was to unfold. So why be in this state now?

I tried to tackle my anxiousness by realizing that there is so much I can do to change events. Yet, I was still in control of my reactions.

I stopped plotting the cascade of catastrophic scenarios. Instead, I started to visualize how life has its ways of sending us gifts that initially look and feel terrifying.

Instead of focusing on all what could go wrong, I asked myself to shift my thoughts to what could actually go right.

Soon, I discovered that I was indeed feeling better. I gained control over my racing thoughts and heartbeats. Once I made this realization, I was surprised that I was no longer making a conscious effort to think this way. It just happened. I shed a few tears of relief and then took a deep breath.

I surrendered to the million possibilities, believing that good things do indeed happen. Adjusting to the present moment made me hopeful and stronger. Isn’t it true that there is no point of living in any past or future?

Now is all what I have, and will always have. This very second as I am writing these words is all there is, was or will ever be. This very moment is hopeful, positive and I relie on this very belief that I will make it to this next moment where nothing else will exist except me being grounded and believing that ultimately I can make a conscious choice to stay in control.

In this very existence, there isn’t any place for fear. Every single moment of my life prepares me for the next. Yes, bad things do happen and sometimes they happen to good people too. This I cannot prevent. Realizing that control is inside me is a game changer.

Let us live to the fullest every moment and embrace our existence. May we always find the power to be hopeful and believe in miracles. For as long as we have this belief, we will find solace in the present moment.

#happilydepressed

On finding meaning in your 40’s

Like millions of women around the globe, I have been defining myself as a mother ever since I was pregnant with my beloved first child.

Being a mother is not only my job, but also my passion, my confort zone and my cherished responsibility. It is a role that I have always loved, a privilege and a blessing.

Having any other role besides it always seemed redundant an infeasible.

I always had an admiration for working mothers, and looked at them with awe; unable to comprehend how they manage to divide their attention and identity to fill more than one shoe.

Years went by and my frustration was building up. I felt that something was missing, especially as my children were becoming more and more independent.

Many unsuccessful trials filled with self-doubt and self-judgement to find a job work, led me to more frustration and shame for wanting me being anything else but a full time mother. Nothing was worth leaving my established identity for. I was convinced that I was only good at what I already knew how to do best. Why look elsewhere? Why make any change?

I was struggling to find the right moment, the right idea, the right motivation and the right remuneration to get back on the employment market. I couldn’t understand that I didn’t need an identity shift or any kind of change. All what I needed is to trust myself and allow myself to expand.

Once I let go of my fears ending with the same suffix (employability, compatibility, feasibility, proximity, etc), I switched to “ action mode”.

I stopped thinking that I my last paycheck is in fact older than my teen. I stopped thinking of all the limitations and chains I had built around myself refraining me from moving forward. I stopped blaming myself or others for my choices and from seeing my destiny limiting. I stopped thinking of how much I should make or I can make per year. I stopped thinking of who would and who wouldn’t employ me. And most importantly I stopped feeling guilty for wanting to expand.

I always tell my children to look at life as an opportunity to gather tools to put in their toolbox and use later when in need. I encourage them to search for as many as possible of these tools and build an immense box. This way, they will always know what to do wherever they are and no matter what situation arises.

Indeed, I found myself doing the same. I had forgotten about my own massive toolbox! I opened it and I was so pleasantly surprised. All these roles and tasks and chores and challenges and opportunities I went through that can’t be written in a CV were priceless when stacked together. I had tools as diverse as breastfeeding to dealing with suicide. Each and everyone of them made me who I am.

When I saw it that way, I stopped wanting to be anyone else and I thus I wasn’t incomplete. Nothing was missing, it was just how I chose to perceive my existence. I had also gotten ridden of any guilt feelings. With this solved, my confidence and creativity were recharged. Instead of jeopardizing all my attempts with ill-conceived ideas about who I should and shouldn’t be, I started doing and enjoying what I do.

One foot in front of the other, I didn’t overthink. I started cooking, packing and distributing meals in front of hospitals. The following week I repeated, and the one after and the one after. Each time I gained a little more knowledge about how to perfect the process. Then I repeated again and learned some more. Word got out and I found people wanting to help. We cooked, packed and distributed more meals, and repeated. Each one of us added a little bit more to the process.

In this repetitive cycle, I found solace. I started acting on ideas that were forming in my mind. And little by little it was more than just cooking, packing and distributing meals. It was about finding meaning. Our small group had and has one mission, making others happy.

In the process of giving to others, you give to yourself. In physical exhaustion working for a greater cause, one forgets to worry about one’s little life. The joy of giving is ecstatic. It fills you up with light and gives you energy to keep going. Nothing beats putting a smile on someone’s face.

Yes I work long shifts and have zero monetary gain. But I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. Doing volunteer work is therapeutic to me before being of any value to others. It grounds me, gives me purpose and endless satisfaction.

I am still a mother and always will be. It is who I am- I will always want to fill this role. I have simply expanded my identity and decided to give back to my community, and in doing so my existence makes sense.

Perhaps this formula works for you, perhaps it doesn’t. Regardless.

Whatever you do if you feel like I felt for many years, don’t doubt your capacity. Look into your own toolbox and stack all the tools you have gathered along the way and start.

Do anything you enjoy and the rest will follow. Don’t overthink it. One step will lead you to the next. Just keep being in action. Perfect your own process. Ask for help, learn from others, get inspired and inspire. Listen to your heartbeat as you create something for yourself. Enjoy feeling fulfilled and make it contagious. Don’t stop, repeat, perfect, add to it and start all over. You will find solace too 🤍

On gratefulness

Few months back I started an initiative called SANED – the closest word in English to it would be “Support”.

The idea came to me that I would like to cook meals and distribute them to those in need. I started slowly with 10 meals, then 20 then reached 60 meals per day. I was buying the goods, cooking, packing and later distributing in the streets of Cairo.

Eventually I decided to head with the hot meals to pubic hospitals and distribute the them to the families of patients stranded in the streets waiting for their beloved ones to finish a procedure.

Surprised I was that many take the streets for their home during the stay of the patient in the hospital. I found elderly, women with their toddlers and men sitting patiently in front of buildings for hours with no end. Soon I decided to focus on public hospitals and I tried going in front of a few for several weeks.

I noticed the children looking bored and hungry. I decided that the hot adult meals weren’t very suitable for them. So I made them a breakfast or snack meal instead – the same you would give your child when going to school. I asked my children to look for small toys in their rooms to include with the meals. Soon enough with the help of their friends, we had our own SANED happy meal that made hundreds of kids happy.

Eventually, my family, friends and neighbors learned about what I am doing and they wanted to help.

I decided to create SANED with a tag line that roughly translates to “so that no one sleeps hungry” and created a profile for it on social media. Soon enough I started to receive endless phone calls from then strangers who were touched by the initiative and wanted to offer a hand.

In less than a month we became 287 active volunteers who work in transparency and cooperation towards helping patients and their families in public hospitals.

Word of mouth spread fast, and I got connected to the administration of hospitals and they allowed me to distribute inside outpatient clinics. emergency rooms and day clinics equally for children and adults. I reached a public cancer hospital, and I designed a healthy meal and a snack for the patients baring in mind what they can and cannot eat. The feedback was heartwarming.

Our combined efforts in SANED allowed us to cook over 400 meals per day (we distribute once a week till now). We have served 1861 meals in the last month to sick children, cancer patients and their families. We have also managed to buy more than 500 new winter outfits for sick children and their mothers.

On a mental health perspective, I see that SANED has many benefits. For one, it offers a channel to people to think of other problems but their own. In this sense, it is therapeutic to be involved in a greater cause that only brings positive energy.

SANED presents members with a sense of fulfillment due to its altruistic mission. It gives a sense of belonging to a larger community and makes one feel valuable. The experience of getting in contact with the less privileged is very tough especially when they are children as young as 50 days and as chronically sick. Yet, the fact that we bring a smile to their faces makes it tolerable and repeatable.

I was feeling quite down right before I started SANED. I had then decided to reduce my levothyroxine dose that I take for my bipolar disorder. I was left depleted with rapid negative thoughts for 48 hours until I upped the dose again. I was very angry yet I decided to make myself aware of my size in this universe.

Once I broke the barrier, sought out the outer world and decided to see what it is like to be in pain without any means to resolve it, my own problems disappeared. I always knew that the world does not revolve around me, but seeing is believing.

It was an eye opener for me to be able to land a hand to others who are suffering. It was relieving to be able to make a small difference. It was thrilling to see someone smile when offered something with love. It was enlightening that there is always something to offer others even if it is just a smile.

All negativity transformed into finding solutions to challenges I see on weekly basis. I have no time to feel pity for myself or answer existential questions that haunt me since the beginning of dawn. I am busy being part of a larger cause, a cause dear to my heart and harmonious to my values. On a very selfish level, SANED makes me feel productive, useful, positive, connected and alive.

There is this quote that says “when one gives, two get happy “ by Amit Kalantri and he couldn’t have said it better.

I urge everyone to try and transcend this sense of self that is so focused inwards. I urge you to look outside and find others whom you can help. There is always something do no matter how small it is and it will help you reset your perspective and make you evaluate your situation more positively.

Thank you for reading. You can follow SANED on instagram through this link https://www.instagram.com/saned_initiative/

A birthing story (5,037 days later)

Motherhood is a beautiful phenomenon. It is perhaps the least selfish role that ever existed. Equally, motherhood is one of the least “rewarded” jobs in society. For about 50% of the concerned population, motherhood comes as a surprise. To top it all up, no manual is provided. You are expected to be on call 24/7 including during your summer holidays, and even on Christmas Eve. There is no job description (it would take thousands of pages to describe what a mother does), and it definitely has no monetary compensation.

For most, motherhood begins soon after conception is confirmed. A strange feeling of expansion begins to form. The woman’s well-being starts to become slowly and surely linked to that of her embreyo. This bond is formed in 9 months, and in most cases becomes unbreakable for the life span of the mother and her child(ren). Some would speculate that the bond is so strong that it lingers on into the after-life.

One would wonder, why would a strange and tiny creature growing inside the uterus have so much power over its bearer? Why would this nausea producing, sleep-depriving, stretch-marks-generating life-form enchant its carrier? What makes mothers smitten and cooing for a good portion of their years to come, despite being depleted attending to every whim and need of their newly-acquired midgets? Now, why do these poor mothers sacrifice their health, wealth, careers and waist size for these minions?

Last I checked, women and mothers are not by default crazy, or enjoy life-long self-inflicted pain (honestly this last point is highly debatable, but you get what I mean). So why do some women work consciously towards having children? To highlight this further, why do we freeze our eggs? Why do we go through multiple IVF treatments and spend money that would buy us a couple of convertibles? Why do we keep at it and get our hopes crushed every bloody time? There must be a reason, and a good one indeed.

Motherhood changed me profoundly, more than any other life event. Once I found out that I was pregnant, everything else in became less important in comparison to this piece of bewildering news. Mind you, I was full-on career woman, with a plan to conquer the world. No time to be wasted, I was shuffeling two and sometimes three jobs at a time, commuting insane distances to go from one to another. As a psychologist, I was teaching undergrads, doing research, and also working hard on incorporating psychology in mainstream businesses. I was on fire! Yet, once the lab results confirmed that line I saw on the pee stick a day earlier really meant I was pregnant, all I wanted and craved was nestling.

Ever since, my main concern, my main priority was and remains to be my child(ren). I got books, I joined prenatal classes, and I did my homework. How can I be ready for this creature? What should I learn to welcome it best? I even got a small alarm from Amazon to time feedings and diaper changes. I read about potty training before she was even born, and I got a baby-food blender before she even had a sip of breastmilk. I devoured books on sleep methods and learned how to swaddle a doll.

You guessed it right, I was so full of information that I felt I became a boss. My husband and I decided that we want to deliver naturally. And so we did. We chose midwives, waitlisted at the best homeopath pediatrician in town and managed to find a spot for our future to be born daughter. We booked a doula, found a lactation consultant, and prepared the apartment for home birthing. We got the plastic sheets, the big trash bags, and my husband rehearsed cooking for the birthing team. All was ready. Except us, except me…

The very first day of the new year my Layla, – our pride and joy- was born. For the sake of documentation, I will tell you how it went in great detail. I was overdue, like many expecting mothers. For those familiar with natural birth, you will understand that being overdue is quite terrifying. At some point, if things don’t progress naturally, the chances of a cesarian quadruples. We wanted the most beautiful and naturally welcoming birth for our daughter. I was due on Christmas Day, but Santa came and left and nothing happened. My midwives told me that if I don’t pop by New Years’, they will have to induce me. I was quite scared.

On the 30th of December 2008 I started to have contractions. A few hours in, they became regular. I called the clinic and signaled a birth. Not long after, the team arrived. They helped me set the bed. I got into my gown specifically bought for this occasion. They checked how far I was dilated, and it was a slim 2 cm. It was now nighttime. Nothing happened, except regular painful contractions. At some point, they asked my husband to go buy a certain drug that will get me more dilated. Meanwhile, they put me in the shower, and then my water broke. Now the medicine was useless. His errand on this cold and snowy day was useless. They couldn’t interfere. It was now up to Mother Nature to make this birth happen.

They checked me again because I was screaming so much. My baby had decided to turn and resumed a posterior position , or what is commonly known as “sunny side up”. This simply meant that she decided to come out to this world, not only head first, but also facing up. To translate this on the pain-scale, well there are no more digits left to plot my suffering then. This is the jackpot of natural birth: you got normal “beginners” front-door labour going on, accompanied by back labour involving the spine and the sacrum. Basically, a 360 degrees natural labour without any pain killers.

It went on and on, until I used to profoundly sleep the minute or two between contractions. I lost all sense of time. I left my human form during these 67 hours (2.7 days of active labour). I was an animal, or perhaps a goddess. I didn’t know what was happening, but somehow it felt right despite all the tears. I was screaming this child out into this world, willing it to get out of me.

I saw their faces change expression, I was crowning. I knew crowning was when the infant’s head finally shows. I was well familiar with this concept from reading and from the classes. I knew I had to push really slow or else I would really tear. I knew it was all about breath work and control. I tried to remain “composed” but this is the most confusing demand a person will ever hear. On one hand, your body wants to expel with all its might this being trapped inside, and on the other they tell you to take it slow. I couldn’t the first time, and neither the second as a matter of fact (a totally different birth story by the way).

New Years’ had passed, and the first day of the year brought some more snow. Around 9:30 AM and after pushing a few more times, my Layla came out. I had finally finished the long race. I was rewarded by this perfect newborn that stole my heart away. Would you believe me if I told you that the moment I saw her, I had no recollection of any physical pain? How is this even possible? To this day, I won’t be able to fully explain this dramatic shift in emotions. I know that oxytocin (the famous love hormone) flooded my nervous system. My neurons shot little cuddle-enticing messages all over the place. From now on, I would start to like cute animals videos and share them on social media. Facebook will remain my favorite medium. I will now play Candy Crush. I was officially a mom.

Meanwhile, my angel midwives placed princess Layla on my tummy. Is it just my daughter or are all new borns athletes; Layla “crawled” and reached my breasts. I instinctively wanted to feed her, but she had other plans. Layla began looking at me. Her gaze was intense, almost inquisitive. She said in not so many words: “It is you, finally we have met. I want to have a good look at you, and get to know you.” If I had melted from love when she was born, now I had evaporated! The conditioning was done. Looking at Layla = pure love. To honor and respect her birth and entry to this world, the umbilical cord was cut later after it had stopped pulsating.

I was sure then that I was a goddess, if not only a superwoman. No-one can do this except my clan of women. We are superheroes, and we produce amazing creatures. My hemorrhoids and even the double episiotomy were a totally fair price to pay to have the honor of birthing this child. Now, thirteen years later, I can confirm that I would do whatever it takes to take care of this beautiful gift I was given. I would do the same sacrifices and many more to have her in my life. I would move mountains to see her smile. I would also kill entire nations if someone just compte m’empilâtes hurting her. She makes waking up every morning worthwhile. She surprises me daily with how perfect she is. She drives me crazy and makes me pluck out my hair, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. She is all what I have ever wished for and much more. I am proud to have been granted the privilege to be her mother.

I love you Layla ❤️

TBC

Never forget that you are my hero

Save this for a rainy day

For new readers, hello and thank you for joining.

To put you up to speed, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder back in 2017. I documented my long and raw journey of fighting this illness here in Happilydepressed.blog. Despite repeated hospitalisations and endless cocktails of psychotropics, I was getting worse. Luckily, in 2019, my husband stumbled across a new approach to treating bipolar, a mix of rTMS sessions (repetitive transcranial magnetic stimulation), and life long high-dose Levothyroxine. If figures, bipolar patients suffer from a lack of Thyroid hormone due to a gene mutation that is compensated by high-dose thyroxine. Slowly but surely, and thanks to this treatment, I was able to regain my life back. For more information on this treatment approach and to better understand the link between thyroid and mood disorders, you can refer to this research article published in 2021 by my treating psychiatrist Dr Andy Zamar.


Last week, I tried reducing for the second time this year my dose of levothyroxine (from 700 to 650). My idea was that I might be able to function as well, now that I have been stable for a long time.

It started fine, I was ok. All of a sudden, hell broke loose without any warnings. I was bed-ridden, crying, not eating, and suffering tremendously. My negative thoughts were spiralling. Nothing seemed right. I even doubted my previous stability and all what I had achieved fighting bipolar for 5 long years.

I was aggressive, repulsive, talking in monologues and saying hurtful things. Three days in, I agreed to shower and listened to my dear husband, who was trying to convince me to increase my dose to the initial 700.

Soon enough, the dark cloud began to disappear and I found myself regaining the confidence I had lost.

I made a list of what I learned and what I should remember if I ever have another relapse. I try to give meaning to my suffering, and perhaps if I do, I will manage to avoid it in the future. So here you go, you might want to save this for a rainy day:

  1. NEVER UNDERESTIMATE BIOLOGY: As much as bipolar disorder is defined as a psychiatric disorder, it is really a genetic illness with psychiatric symptoms. There is so much one can do in face of a biological deficit. Ask yourself, am I fighting the right battle?
  2. HEALING IS RARELY LINEAR: Growth, development and healing are not linear phenomena. You do need sometimes to regress to move forward. I am not telling you anything new. Look at the big picture, not just at an arbitrary snapshot.
  3. REMEMBER YOUR PAST TO APPRECIATE YOUR PRESENT: Never forget where you are coming from. Be humble and grateful. Have you been worse? If your answer is yes, then try to get up.
  4. MENTAL WELL-BEING IS NOT A FAD DIET: Fast results fade fast. With perseverance you will reach your goals. When has it been any different? So hang in there and get back on track.
  5. LOVE YOURSELF WHEN YOU ARE LOW AND PLEASE DON’T CRINGE: Be kind to yourself. Being harsh, unrealistic, and idealistic won’t help you one bit now and you know it. Don’t make it harder than it already is.
  6. REMISSION IS NOT A RACE: Why compare to others? When was this a reason to move forward? Did it ever make you a better person? No? So, give yourself a pat on the back and praise what you know how to do best. There must be something you do well. Now, go do it.
  7. BE GRATEFUL (DON’T GRINGE): Count your blessings, and recount them. You should count them again, especially if you are feeling low. Imagine if the little (or plenty) you had disappeared? Believe me, it can always get worse. So be grateful and get up.
  8. BE HOPEFUL: As long as we are alive, as long as there is a place for hope. If you have been to the other side (no need for me to be more explicit to avoid any triggers), then you know that today is better than many other days you have managed to live. No one is telling you this, you know it in your bones. So get up.
  9. NOW GO COMPARE YOURSELF TO THOSE SUFFERING FOR “REAL”: If you think you suffering has reached its peak, and that you are in intolerable pain, get up and go see some real suffering. Visit a hospital, hospice, an orphanage, special needs school, or just walk in the streets of the less privileged parts of your town. Get up and go help others.
  10. YOU ARE A SURVIVOR: Ultimately, you are a hero. My hero. Waking up for some of us is already a huge achievement. So for my sake, get up. You have done it so many times before. I love you too much to see you not doing what you do best: When you fall, you get up again.

TBC

Thank you ❤️

I was diagnosed bipolar 5 years ago. My life was worse than hell. Suicide was constantly on my mind. I was lost, scared, and hopeless.

I have been given a second chance at life and for this I am and will always be eternally grateful.

I have been stable for two years now. When I say stable, I mean I have lived two full years without any depression or mania. This was simply unimaginable to me a during the peak of my illness.

My life is actually normal, with normal feelings; happy and not so happy all proportional to my circumstances. Perhaps the most precious thing that I earned back is to have dreams and ambition.

My ambition is to share my healing journey with others who cannot see a way out. My dream is to tell people there is hope, and that suffering is not meant to be eternal.

My dream is a big dream and I might not be equipped to fulfil it. I don’t know where and how to start and I let go of it many times. Just yesterday as I started writing this post, I felt that whatever I will write will not make enough impact, that it will be a small drop in an endless ocean…

I was happily surprised when I accidentally met two brilliant women, friends of friends during dinner later that evening. With small talk we started with the usual questions, and it led to the dreadful “so, what do you do?”.

I was never really good at coming up with a good answer to this simple question. I am a full time mother (yes, a stay at home mum), a psychologist (yes, I don’t practice anymore), and an occasional writer (yes, hence this blog).

I was asked about what type of writing I do and I always worry that I will be sharing too soon with strangers the very special nature of my blog. I worry that this would be seen depressing or simply uninteresting. But no, the universe sent me a clear message yesterday in the midst of my doubt. When I started describing my blog as a place where I write about my journey as a psychologist who has survived bipolar disorder, they wanted to learn more. A few minutes down, I tell them about levothyroxine and how it saved my life. It figures that both women have issues with their thyroid – and accordingly clearly understood me and my journey.

To be honest, 9 out of 10 times when I tell people about my blog, they start sharing with me their own mental health issues- or those of loved ones. No one is “safe” anymore. Unfortunately, the hype behind “getting help” does not really help everyone. Many psychologists tackle issues that seem important on the surface and fail to see the real problem. Not to mention psychiatrists that over prescribe and misdiagnose. It is a shame really.

When I mention that psychiatry as practiced today is an obsolete science, it resonates with most of people. When I talk about my experience with antidepressants, anxiolytics, and antipsychotics; people draw parallels. When I say that no one understood me at the time, or knew what was wrong with me, they relate.

When I tell them that bipolar 2 is a biological problem with psychiatric symptoms, I get their full attention. When I tell them that I quit all psychotropics, and now only take levothyroxine, they are in disbelief. And finally, when they know the very high dose I am on, they are in awe. 

I cannot say it loud enough, please don’t embark on the journey of taking psychotropics before you are a million and one percent sure you have exhausted all other options. Even then, read and ask questions. Make sure you educate yourself and know what current research says.

Join forums and follow blogs, listen to yourself and to fellow sufferers. Not all advise is medical grade, yes we can’t trust anyone, but stay open to new ways of healing. Many things won’t work with you, maybe the majority won’t, but you will find a way out.

Never give up. Set up email alerts for your disease and read them all religiously. Get the latest books and ask family or friends to read and summarise for you. Write your symptoms and your medication. Take notes of what works and what doesn’t. Believe that you can be better, even better than before.

To all my community, thank you for supporting me through out these tough moments. Thank you for being there listening to my rumbling mind that was faster than the speed of light. Thank you for not letting me end my life, for it is indeed beautiful. Thank you for trusting me that orthodox psychology and psychiatry were never the solution. Thank you for bringing my smile back. Thank you for allowing me to have dreams again.

Special thanks (not in order of importance or love): Hassan El Shabrawishi– my beloved husband and father of my two beautiful children. You are my beacon of hope, my rock, my inspiration and my magician. No words can describe how much I love you and how lucky I am to to have crossed your path 24 years ago. Ahmed Loutfy– my adored father: you have listened to me, believed in me and helped me every single day ever since. You are a living example of unconditional love. I am blessed and honoured to be your daughter. Doctor Andy Zamar– my brilliant psychiatrist: I owe you every single happy moment in my life since the day I met you; may you always find joy and peace of mind. Fatma Hamdy– my one of a kind mother in law: without your prayers I wouldn’t be where I am today. Thank your for never judging me. My friends– you were not only there for me but for my children, I love you for believing in me and never pitying me. I always saw myself the same in your eyes. My children– my illness robbed us too many days. Ever since, I make sure to be fully present, enjoy you, and watch you grow into two exceptional human beings.

Thank you ❤️

On raising children

Being a parent is a joy. It is a also a blessing. Parenting is fun. It is mechanical, and creative. It is demanding and exhilarating.

Being a parent means you are always on the clock. There are no days off, no working hours, and definitely no job description.

Being a mom is a whole different league. It is natural to many, difficult for all. Being a mom (and sometimes being a dad too), means that you have to be omniscient: you must know it all! You are a 24 hours caregiver, a cook, a cleaner, a storyteller, a nurse, a magician, an entertainer, a teacher, a driver, a policewoman, a judge, a coach, a love blanket, a problem solver, a listener, a worrier and a warrior…

All these skills come with the job. You either have “The Instinct”, read books, or learn as you go. We will be better in some skills, and worse in others. We will prefer some skills, and loath others. We will all eventually feel our way through the years and manage to our raise children into becoming independent beings with adequate skills to survive.

Yet, parenting doesn’t end there. Think of all the previous time consuming, physically demanding, repetitive and thankless tasks as basically the fun half of your job as a mother, as a father…

Parenting beyond immediate need fulfilment

So what now? My child eats alone, bathes alone, cleans his room, and studies alone. They don’t depend on me to drive them everywhere. I don’t wrestle them to go to bed, or to comb their hair. No more purées, teething, or boogie man under the bed. No more fighting over toys or sippy cups. No more diapers or wet sheets to change in the middle of the night. No more small feet to kiss. No more sweet baby smells. No more good night kisses. What could be more needed? Why isn’t my job complete?

Yes, I had forgotten to mention that a parent perhaps needs to be a psychic too!

I used to ask myself over and over again: are my children happy? Are they fulfilled? Content? How will they be as adults? Are they resourceful? Grateful? Resilient? How much can I teach them? What shortcuts can I offer them? How can I sooth them? What can I promise them? What problems will I be able to solve for them? What can I do to make them happy? How are my actions influencing the way the think, act and dream? What mistakes should I tell them to avoid?

The second part of parenting, doesn’t demand immediate attention. It is ongoing, endless, evasive, and intentional. It is about ensuring the psychological well-being of our offspring. How much nature and how much nurture is at stake here! Is a child inherently good? Born happy? What parts am I really screwing up? Can I fix it?

You got it. There is no straight answer to any of the above.

It is quite difficult to assess whether our children are happy, traumatized, anxious or fulfilled. What behaviors they will outgrow, and what will remain as a personality trait. We can’t know their future coping mechanisms, their resilience, empathy or whether they will grow to love themselves. Dwelling on these questions alone didn’t serve me much.

Parenting and mental illness

One not so beautiful wintry day, mama fell very ill. Mama could not even do the one percent of the chores of basic parenting. No more cooked meals, drop offs, help with homework, or bath time. Mama was in bed or in the hospital – almost always crying and in her pjs.

They weren’t the best times.

Years later, and without much details, and with a lot of effort and luck I got better. So much better that I could start thinking of the effect of my mental illness on my children. For more details on this journey you can refer to previous blog posts.

I was ridden with guilt, shame and of course fear. If I was scared before my illness of how “well” I was raising our children, now you can imagine how I felt. I knew that what they saw, what they lived cannot be forgotten.

I found myself taking a whole different perspective now that the “harm” was done.

We cannot undo events. They already happened. The question is, do we let all this pain pass without learning?

I still don’t know how to answer all of the above. Yet, children might as well be better adults now that they have witnessed within their family mental illness. I have to highlight though that despite how ill I was, I tried within my capacity at the time to shield them as humanly as I could from how I was feeling. But children are very smart at detecting and feeling things even if unspoken.

Parenting and transcending challenges

We talked with my daughter (as her brother was just a toddler at the time) and explained things to her. We told her about my illness in child-friendly words. We talked about depression, anxiety, and mood swings. We talked about neurotransmitters and the side effects of the medications I was taking. We answered her questions. We listened. We tried to make it more human and less scary.

I didn’t think it was enough, or that it would be useful. Like I said, this type of growth is not linear. Yet, one day my 10 year old comes back from school telling me her friend had a panic attack and that she helped her through it.

You can imagine how I felt at the time. How can she know what a panic attack is, how can she help another 10 year old breathe! How can she handle this with such a grace and à savoir faire that doesn’t match her age?

Although this singular event does not mean much in the grand scheme of things, it helped me put things into perspective.

Kids have a level of resiliency that is far higher than what we assume. They internalize negative emotions and it will show on a whole different set of behaviors. They could have trouble at school, night terrors, or start losing stuff. It will show on them in a way or another.

The key here is not to forget why they are “acting” this way suddenly. Connect the dots and don’t feel guilty. It won’t help. Don’t scold and punish. It won’t help. Understand and explain. This is a much better approach.

Work on yourself first as you are a priority. Yes, you are the sun and moon to them, and everything in between. You won’t help them if you don’t help yourself. There are good days and bad days. Try to achieve normality and mundanity as much as you can.

Show them glimpses of what used to be before. Explain again. Tell them you love them and always will. Make their existence a reason to live for. Never forget how much you love them or how much they love you. Tell them they are not the reason you are feeling this way. Tell them you will win this fight. You will do it just for them.

Believe in the power of love. Hugs can go a long way, without much words needed. With love and care they will feel safe again. They cannot be ignored or assumed too little to understand. It is better to say the truth, even partially, than leave it to their assumptions.

Parenting without a crystal ball

So yes, we won’t know if our kids will be happy when they grow up.

But meanwhile;

  1. Know that life works in mysterious ways: what could seem like a huge ordeal now and a real impasse, is in fact a hidden real opportunity for growth.
  2. Guilt and shame will make everything worse. Don’t feel guilty, and please whatever you do make sure your kids don’t feel it either.
  3. Build empathy during your interactions with your children. You need to show understanding,
  4. Perhaps the most powerful thing I have done with my daughter is telling her that each new experience gives her a new tool in her toolbox. Whenever she faces a challenge, she has to look in this toolbox for something that will help her navigate the situation. She has really good tools now that she uses regularly.
  5. Accept that your offsprings’ mental health and happiness is also beyond your control. You can’t be “responsible” for each single aspect. You role is to help, and not to control.
  6. Let them do their own mistakes. Many things are learned by doing and not by preaching, just like falling in love.
  7. Be there for your children no matter what. Say this out loud, repeat it, and then say it again. They have to know this on an organic level. They know you will be there to pick up the pieces. We all need someone to do that sometimes.
  8. Be the first one to cheer and root for them. Tell them you are and always be their number one fan.
  9. Understand that no matter how you look alike, they are independent and different human beings. They will have their own dreams and make their own mistakes. You won’t make an apple tree an orange tree. The sooner you realize this, the sooner everyone will be happy. Listen to their dreams and dream with them.
  10. Forgive and love yourself. Work on yourself. Be the better version. Learn from your mistakes and aspire for more. This is a precious life-long action that your children will see you do. Basically, let them learn by watching.

In short, we all tiptoe through parenting. Don’t be too harsh on yourself. The world wasn’t created in one day. Take a breath and make the best out of today instead of worrying about things you cannot control. Remember that each day brings new opportunities for learning and for healing. Enjoy the process, it is actually fun.