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 waiting for remission…

Waiting sucks

Waiting sucks. Whether waiting for a bus; your turn in a public restroom; your birthday present; your dessert in a restaurant; or even waiting for yourself to finally fall sleep. Waiting sucks when you did well, when you didn’t do well, or when you didn’t do anything at all.

Waiting is seen essentially as a waste of time. It is the place between two radically different states. Waiting is ambiguous, monotone, and yet interesting,..

The interesting stuff lies between where you were before needing to wait and where you will be after waiting is over. It is like a twilight zone, where we discover things we didn’t know before…

How can waiting be active ?

If waiting were passive, life would be so dull. We wait all life long for things to happen: some of them we want and some we are very keen to avoid. We learn to wait as soon as we are born. We wait to be fed, cleaned and cuddled. We even wait to die…

Waiting changes as we grow. We discover sooner or later that our needs and wants are not instantly met by the world.

Frustration builds up as we face negative experiences where waiting was not just long, but led to an undesirable outcome. We resort to prayer, to superstition, to therapy and sometimes we end up in depression; waiting.

Waiting and expectation go hand in hand. The higher the stakes, the higher is the expectation associated with waiting. Waiting for a bus is unlike waiting for remission. The first is bound to happen (the bus will eventually come no matter how late). Yet, some other waiting is tricky. What happens when you wait for remission? For better health? For a better future? For a full life?

What to do while waiting other than waiting? What can be done before waiting to make waiting more bearable? What can be done to make waiting matter, so that it makes sense?

How can we wait for remission?

I have learned so far that waiting for remission boils down to two main factors. The first, is wanting to get better. (For the sake of simplifying things, we will assume that we actually and truly want to get better). Interestingly, the second factor is accepting not getting better.

It was so confusing to me. The more I wanted to get better, the more frustrated I became. After being frustrated waiting, I gave up hope, which definitely didn’t make waiting any easier or quicker.

Waiting is a skill that sooner or later we better learn to master, especially if we are waiting for something of such great value such as remission.

We could complain or wait in silence, while we are shattered internally with each second bringing us closer to the end of a bottomless void. We can swim in the darkness and sink deeper as the pain never lessens. This would not mean that we are accepting this reality, but rather that we give up. We give up hope, we can’t see any other possible scenario. This is it. And if this is the case, remission will never happen.

Yet, if we surrender, maybe things could change. We surrender to and accept the pain, the guilt, the remorse, the shame, the pity, the ugliness of it all. We accept the status quo while knowing that nothing stays the same forever. We need to know this in on our bones. Like seriously know that nothing ever stays the same forever. It is not over, until it is over. Repeat it, feel it, believe it, know it.

We should never give up hoping to get better. I always say, if I feel better for a minute now, next time I will feel better for two minutes, then three, then an hour and so on. Yes I will get worse, but then I will get better again. Hope cannot be taken out of a person unless they decide to give up. One single minute lived without pain, means more minutes will come. Just wait.

Bottom line

Wait actively. Listen to your soul and body. Don’t undermine your thoughts. You are still creative even if life is putting you down. You still have a mind, even if you are drugged down by the doctors. You know what it is that is really wrong with you. Better still, you surely know what is really good with you. Yes, there is plenty. You are just looking the other way.

Wait while searching. Dig deep, and take it step by step. Work on everything you know how to solve, and leave the rest to time. Work it like a puzzle. Your life is a giant Lego. Do the easy parts first. No one will fix you. You need to fix yourself. There is no perfect scenario. Life is not black or white. Accept being in the grey zone.

Make your bed, shower and eat real food. You can do that. Do your laundry and get a hair cut. Get back to this thing you used to like before. Was it writing , painting, composing, gardening? Pick up something you never had the chance to do before, but always wanted to learn or do. Make waiting count.

Don’t be the same person once waiting is over. You would have lost double the time. Either way you have nothing to lose.

The goal is to rediscover yourself beyond your illness. There is an “I” behind the illness. You are not the illness. Who is it who is waiting for remission? What will s/he do if they were not sick this very second? What would have happened if they hadn’t fallen sick? What is this bloody and agonising state trying to tell me?

Don’t wait for an answer. You already know it.

Think. Cry. Fall. Shout. Rise. Create. Pray. Write. Paint. Run. Sing. Build. Forgive. Love. HEAL

Make every second waiting count.

What does self-care actually mean?

I talked in my last post about self-care and its importance to mental health and well-being:

Today I would like to elaborate a little bit and dig deeper and try to tell you what I really mean by this concept.

Superficially, self-care is really simple to understand. It entails taking care of yourself. If you google the term you will find diagrams and articles giving examples of self-care including eating well, good sleeping habits, going for a walk, listening to music, and so on… Basically, it is about any action you do to take care of yourself.

I of course agree with all of the above. Who wouldn’t? But I like to stretch the concept a little bit more to include some other essential elements to our well-being that we tend to overlook.

Self Care is about Self Acceptance, Self Forgiveness, and Self Love.

Self-care is also essentially about self-acceptance, self-forgiveness, and self-love.

If we don’t accept, forgive and love ourselves we will not be able to truly care and mend our wounds, and ultimately start unfolding to meet our true self.

My new year’s resolutions, my goals, were almost never achievable not just because I lacked the will and the motivation to reach them. I discovered it was because I was rarely true and honestly accepting where I was at; I was not forgiving myself for my “mistakes” and I was judging myself for “lagging behind”. I didn’t love myself wholeheartedly and doubted that I could ever achieve anything.

We also get dragged and pulled by negativity right and left. We are consumed by toxins and more importantly by toxic relationships. We spend hours tending to these tasks while we could be using this vital life energy on our beings.

Self Care is about using our intelligence and intellect; our senses and sensibilities.

Self-care is about using our intelligence and intellect; our senses and sensibilities. We know down deep inside what we need to develop; what capacities we lack in order to become stronger and more complete.

I discovered along the way that my anxiety would reduce exponentially when I would “work” on myself away from the attacks. I had to accept me and forgive me and love me.

Another attack was bound to happen. Anxiolytics had to be stopped – they were threatening my life; I was becoming “addicted”. At the time, pain equaled pill: it was unbearable.

Putting thoughts into compartments helped me a lot. I blocked the negative energy coming from outside. I protected myself. I set boundaries. This is very important in self-care and it is not selfishness.

Along with compartmentalization, prioritizing, labeling my emotions, and repeating that I want to be happy and that I can be happy were all part of the package.

I repeat that I am under treatment and that I am very lucky that I found a good one that works for me. The final result would not have been possible without it.

But for months during my illness I suffered from severe brain fog. I was not able to think clearly. It was the residue of all the bad chemicals in my system – yes even after I quit them. It was the strangest feeling. Still deep under the person was still there; the process was in place.

The real you is always there. Your beautiful self is there, whispering and waiting to be heard.

I am telling you this because no matter where you are at now in your journey it is never too late or too early. Despite the heavy meds you are taking, despite the pain and the rejection you are feeling towards yourself: you can stop, assess and reconsider.

The same goes if you just feel that you are not in-synch with yourself. If you feel you are unhappy, starting a mild depression. Stop. Assess and reconsider.

I invite you not to wait till it bubbles up into something that becomes more organic and more difficult to manage.

“There is no higher or lower goal. There is only one goal, Self-Realization”

Meher BABA [The Answer 26]