The brain/body connection, and the fight to keep them together
So I’ve had the roughest time since October, and I feel like I’m finally seeing the light at the tunnel (as I write this with tears in my eyes...). This is long, don’t read the whole thing if you don’t want. I’m not asking for sympathy, I’m sharing my story to hopefully help someone who’s also in this dark, horrible tunnel.
All of our demons are different, and I’m lucky enough that my two biggest ones have answers, yours might not, but here’s what I got:
Starting in October, I had anxiety attacks on a weekly basis. I started seeing a therapist and it helped, but I still would have weeks where I couldn’t eat, and going to work was the hardest thing I had ever done.
It felt like someone else had taken over my brain and I was no longer Melissa. I would call my friends, family, bosses I trusted, anyone I could talk to to reassure me, tell me I wasn’t insane. Thank god for them, thank god for my support system.
Most of them didn’t know what to tell me, my one friend who’s studying clinical psychology knew the best things to say (obviously) and here’s what I’m taking from her, my therapists, my friends, etc.
The definition of anxiety is IRRATIONAL thoughts. If you try to rationalize it or fight with it, you’re going to make it worse. If you accept that it is what it is, and you need to cope and find things to let it lie still instead of attacking your mind, that’s how you deal. And everyone is different, and I’m still trying to find the best methods for me.
Ever since I was born, my parents told me, I was a puker. I’d get scared, I’d puke. I’d eaten too much, I’d puke. They joke that if I was their first kid, they probably wouldn’t have a second. But you think a parent would say something like “hmm this seems abnormal, maybe my kid has a stomach problem, or a mental problem.” But both of my parents were born in the 50′s where mental things didn’t exist, and unless you had a broken bone, you were fine physically....so I continued to throw up. My biggest fear from the age of 3-10 was thunderstorms. I’d cry and scream and throw up until my parents let me sleep in their bed with them.
I was also a hypochondriac (still kind of am), any time I heard of a new sickness, I’d be convinced I had it, at like 8 years old.
When I 14 I had anxiety attacks, but I was 14 and didn’t know how to articulate how I was feeling, so I threw up and missed school and saw my Dr. too often. He put me on an acid reflux pill, which made me sleep and eat and everything seemed fine, for like 2 months...and the anxiety/nausea/hopelessness was back. The apex of this moment, I’ll never forget: I hadn’t been going to school for a week, so all day every day I was home with my thoughts and my tears. I was up at 4 Am and couldn’t sleep, and it felt like I was having a heart attack (I learned later that was my first panic attack). And I knocked on my door and told my dad “I’m having a heart attack! take me to the ER!” and he literally SCREAMED at me through the door “YOU’RE NOT JUST GO TO BED!” So I called my one friend who I knew would be awake because he’s a cop, and he talked me down. Later my dad apologized and explained he just gets so frustrated as a parent that he can’t make me feel better, that sometimes it all gets build up.
Eventually my Dr. told me track it and it and voila! PMDD. Crazy horrible, bipolar-like mood swings the week before my period. My Dr. said “let’s try this, if it doesn’t work, we can try zoloft”
The pill worked for me up until Jr. year of college, and I gave up taking my stomach meds because I hate taking medicine. I had switched schools and was much happier than I was freshman year, and then with insurance bullshit, my pill got switched and i went insane. I felt fine, but my pill wasn’t giving me a period and I was terrified (even though I wasn’t having sex yet...). At this point I was still coming home often enough that I didn’t feel the need to see an OBGYN in Philly. So they switched my pill yet again and sent me a bunch for when I was studying in England, and I was fine...
...until about October of that year, same idea, mood swings, mind fog, freaking out (even though most of it was about graduation in the spring...or so I thought.) I was stressed out in school, had 3 jobs and shows to worry about, and I knew by May 2014 I’d suddenly have my safety net (financially and otherwise) taken away. Saw a new OBGYN in Philly and she was insane. She yelled at me when I said I didn’t want to take the Gardasil shot. But she put me on a new pill, which is all that I wanted, and then...SAME THING. (Isn’t the definition of insanity someone who tries the same thing over and over and gets the same result?) Come Jan-March I felt nuts. Anxiety attacks, freaking out, etc. Starting seeing the school counselor again and she helped. Switched Doctors since mine was a huge bitch. This doctor is a 100 year old man and sat me down for a full hour and explained what each pill does and why, which really helped. So he said out of all of the ones I had been on (which was like 10 at this point due to generics and whatnot) there was the one i first started on, or one that has a new type of progesterone in it (Yaz) which I was scared to take due to all the controversy around it. So, he put me back on the pill I took at 14. And guess what?! SAME THING
Fast forward to November 2014-Feb 2015:
Breakdown after breakdown. Week after week of not eating, sleeping, crying, feeling like there’s no hope, etc. (and now I’m crying again..)
I get an endoscopy (which I do every year due to my acid reflux, but was a big baby about it for 3 years and didn’t get one since freshman year of college because I was worried they’d find something awful) and they said everything seemed fine but they could sense a “presence of gluten intolerance” I get blood tested, SUPER HIGH positives.
Go to my stomach Dr. in the beginning of February, he tells me there’s basically no doubt I have celiac, and a huge symptom of it is anxiety/mood swings. But the fact that I have no stomach pain weirds him out, sends me for another blood test (which I haven’t taken yet because I’m a baby). Around the same time I start seeing a boy, I explain to him all my anxiety and how I don’t want to commit to someone who can’t handle my crazy and he tells me how much he likes me and wants to be with me even with this insanity. Great! I start thinking there’s finally someone for me through all this bullshit and years of being single and having casual flings...hahaha how silly I was.
End of February hits. I get really sick while out with this boy on Tuesday, he stays the night with me anyway, and then all week I’m miserable. Sick, anxious, even had a panic attack since my first time when I was 14. Probably the worst I had felt since then, especially because I was alone all the time and not eating. I’m calling everyone I know constantly. Going to therapy, working on coping skills, counting my blessings, etc. Nothing is helping. Finally call my OBGYN and he tells me “you know, it makes sense, you probably have PMDD” So he switched me to yaz and wanted me to take Paxil which is an anti-anxiety medicine. I take the Paxil on Saturday AM and I HATED it. I felt still super anxious/nauseous/shaking, etc. but my brain was just OFF and I couldn’t sleep. Asked one of my best friends to stay over with me in case I went off the deep end in the middle of the night, and thank god she was there because those stupid meds made my brain not let me sleep and it was horrible. We woke up early and cried together all morning about our problems and boy stuff and everything...and I forced myself to go to work.
At this point I was a SHELL of a human. I have never ever ever in my life felt this way. I was physically, emotionally, mentally EMPTY. It was a good day at work too, the kids were making stuff for Purim, and yet all I could do was run around and keep going to the bathroom. The day ends early and I call the boy to see how his night was (I was supposed to meet his dad and couldn’t because of how I was feeling), and he doesn’t answer, then calls back and OUT OF NOWHERE tells me he can’t be with me anymore. I’m standing on the street, in this ice storm, feeling like a broken human as it is, and then the one person I thought who liked me through it all, decided (without talking to me) that he still likes me and likes spending time with me, but realized it wasn’t going to work in the long run, so it’d be easier to end it now.
My female co-workers were with me and at that moment shoved me in their car and made me go to brunch with them. They knew I was going through a lot and hadn’t eaten so they forced me to drink tea and eat some fruit and get it together. I remember sitting there and my brain was just...off. Between the meds, and the lack of sleep/food, breakup I could barely do anything more than sit there and listen. My friends were all telling me about their HORRIBLE breakups, and eventually a wave of calm flooded over me, relived that I no longer had to worry about what this boy thought of my breakdowns, and I had something to finally POINT AT and not just feel illogically sad about.
I went home and my dad called me and told me “congratulations!” And I sobbed to him and he told me this is all a part of the growing up process, and eventually I’d realize I bit a bullet. And looking back on it...he was right.
Start the month off with my period, which, sorry, i know TMI, but in the wake of all this, was a huge relief (thats when my anxiety goes away). Cried all that morning (mostly because the boy and I had all these plans and I knew I wasn’t going to see him). Then booked a last minute slot with my therapist, she talked me off the edge, then I got some new books and lunch with Lena at barnes and noble. I was so happy to be hungry finally again, and feel like myself again.
I spend that whole week with friends and family and everyone is reassuring me that this guy wasn’t worth my time, and it’s his loss, not mine. Which was great to hear. I had a great weekend with friends, got lunch with my distant cousin who went through the same stuff, got my life back on track. I had the whole week off of work mostly which was scary to have time to myself, but good to just chill.
That Thursday it snowed and I spend the day back on online dating sites, connecting with some people, and I’m still talking to a few but who knows if it’ll turn into anything.
Eventually things go back to “normal” for me, but I’m still reeling a bit from this mess of a week that was really a huge hugeeee thing for me.
I come home for Parade day in Scranton, see a few of my friends. Drink too much and eat things I shouldn’t have.
Spend the night in miserable, awful pain.
See a Dr. at home, she tells me my gallbladder is inflamed, to take the day to nap and see if it gets worse, which I’m hoping it won’t.
But I did learn something magical from all of this, while waiting for the doctor I read some medical journals online about the connection between celiac (or any food intolerance) and PMDD, and it’s HUGE. Like mega huge. Your hormones get all fucked up when your body is trying to break down foods that it can’t and it all kinda makes sense.
I had a total breakdown to my parents last night and here’s what I’m taking away from all of this:
Recap (if you haven’t read anything above, read this):
-There’s 2 options to anxiety:
1-it’s nothing, and eventually will go away
2-it’s caused by something (real problem, medical problem, chemical imbalance, whatever) and you’ll find what works for you and it will calm down and almost go away
Both options look pretty good to me!
-I don’t know how to just...be. Reading, watching a movie, etc. I constantly feel the need to text someone. If people don’t get back to me, I get anxious, when in reality they could be just...busy. Or not want to talk. Big deal. Maybe that’s a 2015 23-year-old thing, or maybe it’s a me thing...But I will work on it.
-Now is the time for you to work on yourself. I never did. I always had school, or work, or whatever. If you are reading this and you have kids to take care of on top of all of this, go you, I could never do that! But if you’re like me, a single 20-something struggling with all this, it’s now or never. You’re the only one you have at the end of the day, so make sure you love yourself the most.
-The times I was the happiest were the times I didn’t do anything for anyone but me. I didn’t think about my parent’s health or where I’d be in 5 years or if I’d be single/married/etc. I just focused on what I had to do and made myself happy.
-I need a schedule. I thought this weird part time jobs thing would be good for me, no work til 4 most days? sounds great for a night owl like me! Nope, not so good for someone who’s idle hands are the devil’s plaything. I need to be doing something for most daylight hours. Even if it’s just writing a play, or googling recipes.
-Count your blessings. I’m lucky enough to have amazing friends, family, bosses, jobs, a house to live in, a bed to sleep in, clothes etc. But don’t minimize your problems. If you feel guilty for having these things while still feeling anxious, you’re going to make it worse. Yes, someone might be dying or something much worse, which is awful for them, but telling yourself “but they’re managing through that, why can’t I manage through something so silly”
-You are the only one on your path, and the grass is not always greener. Just because someone seems happily married and ready to settle down and has a great job, doesn’t mean he/she is better off. If you talked to that person, we all have our own shit. I tend to look at my friends who aren’t single and are getting laid more often than me and I look at myself like “well why cant I have that, what’s wrong with me?” and I should be asking myself “Am I happy?”
-Sometimes you’re gonna have “throw away” days, months, or weeks. That’s ok, there will be more good days.
So I’m gonna stop eating gluten
I’m starting a new birth control pill
I’m gonna build a better schedule
I’m going to track when my mood swings are and what triggers them
I’m going to start loving me
I’m going to try to learn how to self-soothe and cope
I’m going to stop questioning myself every time I feel bad, worried that these are the best years of my life and yet I’m spending them in my room crying...
I’m on a path to recovery, brain, body, mind. It will be a struggle, there will be more throw away/anxious/crying days, but I will get out of the tunnel, or at least closer to the light at the end of it. There is no other option.
