Tag: #depression

Posted on in anxiety, education, fitness, goals, Peloton, sixty, weight loss

Just One

Sweat is dripping onto my eyelids and into my eyes, causing blurred vision. I wipe away my fluids only to have buckets seemingly fall from the sky. This was my longest ride, best PR, and mileage pee minute did not suck. I am breathless, but the type you want again, and my mind is clear. Yesterday, I took a cheat day in my 21-day habit forming exercise. I needed it and while my calendar notes a blank hole,  my guilt got the best of me and I did yoga for fifteen minutes after midnight. To me I am still on track, neurotic, but now understand a day off of exercise is not an option.

However, last night was pure perfection for this calorie counting, protein shoving, and daily spinning grandma. A burger and a glass of champs! Absolute heaven. I have been so great in the numbers and workout department, but I knew I needed a bit of a treat. I did not work out. Horror, and I ate food with saturated fat. It was yummy. Was it necessary? Yes. It delighted my taste buds and caused me to miss working out and feeling the after-effects of too much of a good thing. It was a testament to my newly built strength, habits that are forming, and the realization that this will take a year of my life, but a life filled with the new real focus of the mayo way health. Count calories and protein. Period, and move daily beyond from couch to kitchen.

While strides are happening, the food, drink, and workout break were fabulous. However, the guilt felt was and is miserable, and it is my job on my long-term lifestyle change to fully enbrace that guilt has no place in this scenario. So, today, I pushed, excelled, and realized that while I still love a culinary delight. I love the person I am becoming more!

Posted on in anxiety

Chaos and Calm

For me, it is the calm that causes the storm that I try to chase away.  A swirling numbness that haunts and hurts. When it swings through my mind and heart, all I can do is ride out the storm and busy my mind as chaos is my ticket out of my ride that causes nothing but misery. This is not daily. Nope. But when it hits, it hits. I am not alone.

All of us have issues. No one gets through life without a few scars, and the hurt we survive comes in many forms. Some chosen crutches are to numb, cry, run, meditate, and seek help, but we all have issues that are only mounting for the generations that will keep our social security churning. As a teacher, I see students shut down over minor issues and have no understanding of how to get out of their own minds and into life with a sense of purpose and a bit of their own chaos or whatever calms their own storms.

Posted on in epilepsy, health, sixty, weight loss

Enjoy the Ride

A mantra firmly planted on my wall in front of my bike. During a ride, I read it over and over and extend the meaning beyond my pedals. Currently, I am relearning the art of enjoyment. Depression is odd. I know I am blessed, have a great daily life as a teacher, make a difference, and am loved. But the feeling persists. A dark cloud that chases me and, at times, hovers. On good days, it allows the sun to shine through for my reminder me that life is amazing even with a depressive persona. This will never go away. Clouds will be off to the side waiting to dart towards my life, but the clarity of life is my goal, and my understanding that this is one big ride is a milestone that I celebrated by taking a chance and talking to my physician about the dreaded topic of weight. I had gained. I knew it. For many reasons, this was a bold move, but I was ready.

Now, having a weighty conversation is awkward, but it is  better to have it with a doctor who has known you for years. You can at least forgive their bedside horrors, and frankly, facts are facts. So, we started with the number. He just pointed to my chart. I cried, and during my blubbering, I was proud of myself as I made no excuses. Nope. I owned my issue, not worrying about how many clouds would chase after me, bringing me that feeling of dread. To my surprise, I left lighter and full of hope as I have three months to get new habits, a weigh-in, and then the discussion if I need medical help. We both are fighting that one, but this is Mayo. Their plan is stronger than the corner shot clinic, and my goal is thirty-five pounds. For me, this will take six months to a year due to the list of meds that keep my epilepsy in check. I left with a caloric target and a protein goal. A huge one to keep carbs and bad fats away. This, with a serious upgrade in riding, a bit of low weights, pilates, or yoga on off days is the ticket.

Fast forward to day four. I am hungry, but protein seems to keep me in check. I miss food but realize this is life, not a diet. Eating correctly and working out or suffering an alternative far bleaker than a dancing dark cloud is my choice , and I can not break my eating or fitness patterns  anymore, as 61 is 61 and while weight loss will not chase all my clouds away the sunshine will peer through occasionally as the success of consistency brings hope and hope is eternally powerful force for those living with depression.

Posted on in anxiety

Not My First Rodeo

Starting a new therapist always brings hope. Now, it has been fifteen years since I last needed this boost. But the adjective is the same. The first session insights of my new partner are boredom, and I am wondering if they are any more qualified than I am doing self-talk in the car. But I proceed through the session until they make sense and give me homework. I love homework because it gives me a sense of accomplishment, which I need daily. So if I already know this, why go. Why commit to a new dance partner? I actually have no answer, other than it chases the blues away, makes me feel less alone in the battle and causes me to go deep and forgive my parents and myself for a failure that still haunts me to this day. You need to find your reason, so your week two becomes a week three and beyond.

So, go find your why and start your own rodeo that will not start wild and rocking. Everything or anything might not be solved, but it will help you rope in your feelings and move to understanding  and hopeful guide to better days.

Posted on in anxiety, book

No Applause

I met a woman who has never felt a day of depression in her 91 years. “It must suck,” was her response. All I could think was yes, yes, it does. She continued to ask me, “Why are there depression commercials?”  My response was,”I don’t know.” My head went to a different place. Everywhere we turn, there are reminders, commercials, pills, quick fixes, etc. Worse yet is the new oddity of the open person who is applauded for their bravery for coming out and sharing the story of the sadness, despair, and their first world worries that lead them to not enjoying life to the fullest. They do a journal, go to yoga, talk to a pricey shrink, and are cured. So applaud if you will, but I am more of a lifer and do not want it, I just want this numb feeling to go away.  I have been relatively numb for thirty years off, and on. Mine is not caused by  getting the nanny I wanted or having to travel business class or not having enough me time. No, mine is more.  Most of the time, it is very controlled. No one knows the high functioning depressed type. We are low-key and a chameleon by necessity as it hits for days, not years in a row, just a rollercoaster of numbness. No attention is needed or wanted. Just relief.  So, I am going to write. Alot. In this blog. Remember, it’s cool, and in my essay book. Still messy, chapters out of order and truly represents a life that is a little numb that wants an awakening that might just come through, yes, the process. The work that must take place to stay away from the sad I feel for absolutely no reason. So work I will. I know I am not alone, and perhaps my out of shape body, mind, soul, and chapter book will finally come together.