Boundary Maintence

February 2017

“We change our behavior when the pain of staying the same becomes greater than the pain of changing. Consequences give us the pain that motivates us to change.”
― Henry Cloud

A letter to those I've had to set up boundaries with:

I don't hate you. I don't see you as an enemy. Someone once coined the phrase "EGRs" (extra grace required) when interacting with some people. I try to reflect God's grace when I see you, and every day I pray for you.

Maybe we had a big falling out over something kind of dumb. I was trying to protect you and a mutual friend, but I went too far. You saw it as an attack and began to attack me.

Maybe you weren't supportive during a crisis and criticized me instead. If you aren't willing to stand by my side during the darkest days of my life, why do I call you a friend?

Maybe I told you something from my past and instead of believing me, you questioned me and doubted me and then made excuses for what happened.

Maybe you turned our friendship into a political debate. Being friends means putting differences apart and not forcing your opinion on your friend.

Maybe your daily selfies on Instagram, posts with 30 of your best friends, and bragging about your grades and popularity lowered my already low self-esteem.

Maybe you always said the wrong thing at the wrong time. You never thought about what you were going to say, but instead just blurted out whatever was on your mind.

As someone who battles depression and anxiety, taking care of my mental health is at the top of my list of priorities. If I'm not mentally healthy, nothing else I do will be healthy. When I start to see negative effects in my mental health and self-esteem, I take a step back and ask myself: what is causing this? Sometimes it's a person. Believe me when I say setting boundaries hurts. Part of me wants to "fake it until I make it" and avoid conflict, and part of me needs to set a boundary.

                   Boundary: a line that marks the limits of an area; a dividing line

I set up boundaries to protect myself and take care of myself. This is something nobody else can do for me, and it's something that I don't have to apologize for. You might not understand or you might deny everything I say, but the truth of the matter is this: somewhere along the way our friendship changed and it began to have a negative impact on me. I'm not placing blame; it could easily be my fault. Part of setting my boundaries means deleting you from Facebook and SnapChat and unfollowing you on Instagram. Different from what society says, deleting you on Facebook doesn't mean I hate you. I would actually like it if we could smile at each other in class or at church. The glares, eye rolls, and whispers to your posse of friends only make me feel worse. I do have a lot of guilt for setting boundaries, and this is something I'm still trying to work through. While we won't be talking every day or sharing details about our lives, we can still be civil human beings who know each other. The beautiful thing about boundaries is that they aren't permanent. Maybe I just needed some distance for a semester to internally process and pray about our friendship. I've never cut you off. If we have been cut off, that was your doing. Yes, I miss the good times we shared. The meals we ate together, the coffee and study dates, the late night talks, the laughs over inside jokes, and the feeling of friendship. But what you have to understand is Henry Cloud's quote at the beginning of this post: the pain of staying the same becomes greater than the pain of changing. Setting that boundary was something I had to do to keep myself healthy.

So no, I don't hate you. I don't wish bad things on you, and I certainly don't view you as an enemy. Setting boundaries is okay, in fact, I think it's a healthy thing to do. To anyone out there who is struggling with this issue, I leave you with these words. Be able to stick up for yourself, know your worth, and have faith in your own choices. Do what you have to do to keep yourself healthy and never doubt yourself.

It's Not Over Yet,

Sarah :)

"Quiet! Be still!"

October 2016

Mark 4:35-41:

 That day when evening came, He said to His disciples, “Let us go over to the other side.” Leaving the crowd behind, they took Him along, just as He was, in the boat. There were also other boats with Him. A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke Him and said to Him, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?”

He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.

He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”

 They were terrified and asked each other, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey Him!”

Junior Year
First off, I don't know how I'm a junior. After this semester, I only have three semesters of my college education left. Yes, that is absolutely terrifying and kind of exciting. I've been spending the first nine weeks of this semester thinking about and processing everything that has happened since I came to college. There's been a lot of pain, confusion, hurt, and sorrow. I was distressed over thinking about what my memories of college will be when I leave in May, 2018. Would I be able to think about the laughs, great opportunities, amazing friends, and fun experiences? Or would I only be able to focus on the negative things that were said, the friends who walked away, the dark days, the endless anxiety, all the panic attacks, and the pain from other people's sins? After the first week of classes, I came to a very heartbreaking and troubling conclusion: a terrible sin had been committed against me freshman year. Realizing thing led me down a dark path of depression, fear, panic, shame and doubt that rocked and shattered my world. How could a God who loved me enough to die for me cause something horrible to happen to me? As I cried out to God, He seemed very distant. I asked Him for guidance and for even a small sign that He was still with me, but all I heard was nothing. This made me seriously question my faith. I didn't take comfort in reading the Bible or listening to Christian music. I found myself feeling angry towards God and resenting Him like I never had before. This caused even more panic and confusion. Did I still believe in God? Was He still involved in my life?

Two of my sweet connection group friends

Thankfully, I have an army of friends who know and love Jesus more than anyone else. They were able to encourage me, pray for me, and remind me of God's truths and promises. I am involved in the Salt Company through my university. Salt is a very large (we're talking almost 2,000 students) Christian ministry. It meets on Thursday and then there are smaller groups (called connection groups) that meet in dorms/apartments on campus and off campus. Sophomore year, I was involved in two different connection groups that just weren't the right fit for me. I wasn't able to truly share my struggles with my mental and physical health without feeling judged and unsupported. So obviously, I was very hesitant to join a connection group this year. I told one of my dear friends about my worries, and she recommended a group that meets at the on campus apartments. I didn't really want to go, but I knew falling away from Christian community would make my life even more miserable. As it turns out, this connection group is literally sent from God. I've only known the 10 or so girls involved in the group for nine weeks, but I feel so supported and loved by them. I have shared about my struggle with doubting in God and those struggles were met with pure love, support, and encouragement. Having a loving and stable environment to go to every Monday evening has helped me so much! Another part of the Salt Company, is the famous Fall Retreat at a campground. This year's retreat was my first time going. Again, I didn't really want to go, but felt I should. I get very anxious and overwhelmed in large crowds so I was worried about that (since 900 students attend this retreat!), and I would be away from my emotional support animal Roger all day. The retreat brought in a speaker and there was four sessions over the weekend. During a very loud and rowdy game of volleyball, I got super overwhelmed and needed to find a quiet place. So I found a place under a big tree and started reading the passage from the morning's session on fear. The passage came from Mark 4:35-41. The story of Jesus calming the storm is very familiar to me; I only learned it 400 times in Sunday school. While reading through it, I began to see a lot of similarities between this iconic story and my own story.

Jesus' and His disciples were in the middle of a storm (called a squall in this passage) in the middle of the ocean. I can only imagine there was lots of lightening, thunder, rain, and huge waves. I think we can all agree that they were probably very scared. After all, this storm could potentially kill them. So where was Jesus? He was sleeping on a cushion. His disciples were confused; how could Jesus be sound asleep when everyone was about to drown?! So they take Jesus up, asking Him if He cares if they drown. Jesus then tells the storms to be "quiet! Be still!" and the storm obeys. Then Jesus asks His disciples why they are so afraid and asks if they still don't have faith? The disciples are in shock that even winds and waves obey Jesus. I am definitely in the middle of a storm. For me, the storm isn't thunder, lightening, rain, and wind. It's fear, hopelessness, doubt, anxiety, confusion, guilt, and anger. For eight weeks, I felt like God was sleeping. I didn't feel any connection to Him or comfort from Him, and that terrified me. Just like the disciples, I questioned my fate and God's plan for my life. Was He just going to let me "drown" in the storm?

"Quiet! Be still!"

Right after I discovered the connection

this passage and my own story

All Jesus has to do is tell the storm to stop. When He asks His disciples why they were so afraid, He also asks if they still don't have faith. The word "still" really stuck out to me. I've been through a lot: six years of managing seven chronic physical conditions and three mental conditions, I almost lost my grandpa three years ago, family conflict, friends leaving me, and the challenges that have come with going to college. But guess what? I'm still here. God has brought me through all of that and more. So why am I doubting Him? If God can get me through all of that, what was making me think He couldn't bring me through this?

"Even the winds and waves obey Him."

Water is the most powerful force on earth. Jesus is so powerful that He can calm waves in the midst of a storm! Spend a few minutes and try to wrap your mind around that. The point is, if He can calm the most powerful force on earth, surely He can calm the storm that is raging inside of me.

After reading this passage and reflecting on how it applies to me, I was filled with unexplainable hope and confidence in God. I felt like the thing that I had been missing for the first eight weeks of school was finally returned to me. Throughout the rest of the retreat and on my drive back to school that night, I couldn't stop smiling...even though half the time I was crying because I'm just an emotional soul who cries at pretty much anything. I can't express enough how impactful the Fall Retreat and my experiences within the Salt Company have been for me. God is absolutely working wonders through all of this, and I'm eternally thankful.

At the Salt Company Fall Retreat with my connection group

The End is Just a New Beginning

May 2016

Beginning, just let that word wash over you

It's all right now; love's healing hands have pulled you through

So get back up, take step one, leave the darkness and feel the sun

Because your story is far from over, and your journey has just begun

Well, friends, I am halfway done with my college education. Yes, I am terrified and excited about that. I am pursuing a degree in Dietetics and Child, Adult, and Family Services. I was officially accepted into my program as well as my college's honor society. I finished the year without failing any of my classes and made some new friends this semester. When I finished my freshman year, I didn't want to leave campus and my friends. My thoughts about my sophomore year ending couldn't be any more opposite. I was dying to leave. I enjoyed packing because it went I was getting closer to leaving. Once I was finally freed after my last final and could go home, I unpacked everything in under 48 hours. See, the ending of this school year means a new beginning for me. A new beginning to start fresh, rest, renew my passion for working in a hospital, and get a break from the stresses and anxieties of school. Sophomore year was pretty bad; there was definitely good moments, memories, and things I learned, but overall it was pretty crappy. I learned a lot though and more than just nutrition and microbes. Below are a list of things I've learned and how learning those things has made me feel like a completely different person than I was a year ago:

1. Take Care of Yourself....and walk away from toxic people

Everybody knows how important it is to take care of yourself in college, especially if you're managing chronic illness. There's another type of self-care though. It's called self-respect. Throughout my sophomore year, I can think of multiple "friends" who ended up not being so friendly after all. I was heartbroken each and every time one of these people crossed the line, went too far, or said something deeply hurtful. I found myself wanting to do everything in my power to keep their friendship. Then I realized, why am I using my limited amount of time and energy to try and convince someone to keep being friends with me? After realizing this, I began to see these conflicts as not my fault-but theirs. One of my good friends pointed this out to me also. I told her about all the drama with each friend, and she said: "Sarah, you realize none of that is your fault right?" I don't know why I was blaming myself and taking responsibility for their lack of maturity or understanding. After this I really started to examine the "friendships" I had with people, and it turns out some of them were pretty toxic. I started to have more respect and love for myself and walk away from the "friends" who were actually "people I know."

2. Emotional Attachments are Dangerous

This lesson goes along with number one. I realized towards the end of the year that the girl who was my first friend at college and who I loved dearly wasn't actually that good of a friend to me. She had made me feel bad for choices I've made, disrespected my faith and political views, and was far from understanding during a crisis moment in life. I still wanted to view her as the nice girl I met freshman year, but she isn't that same person! It took a friend to finally say: "Sarah...do you have to be friends with this person??" to see that just because someone is your BFF freshman year, doesn't mean they're always going to stay like that. That's when I discovered that I make emotional attachments with people. This has put me in a bad position and unhealthy relationship several times before.  

3. Take Time to Love Yourself

Let's be honest: I manage celiac disease, IBS, gastritis, gastroparesis, hypoglycemia, slow transit constipation, myofascial pain syndrome, depression, anxiety, and panic disorder. Yes, 10 chronic illnesses. That's a lot not only for me to manage but for others to manage. Sometimes I catch myself thinking something along the lines of, maybe so-and-so said that hurtful thing because she couldn't handle me being sick. If this is true, I can only hope not, but I definitely struggle with self-esteem and wondering if people like me or if I tell them I have 10 chronic illnesses, they'll run the other direction. This kind of stuff will destroy you. Towards the end of the semester, I decided to set aside time for myself. I treated myself to nice coffee (decaf, because caffeine, anxiety, and hypoglycemia do not mix well at all) drink, did something I enjoyed, wrote down a list of what I like about myself, or went on a quiet walk all by myself. I think I'm slowly getting to a place where I am more accepting and loving of myself. Instead of thinking, what is this person going to think when I talk about my health, I think, maybe I'll be able to touch or help someone else by sharing my health. My health doesn't define my life, but it is part of it. If someone can't handle that, they can leave.

4. Be Yourself

I used to hide the fact that I'm gluten-free. I used to avoid talking about my anxiety. I used to purposely not say anything about my emotional support animal who lives in the dorms with me. That was exhausting! One time I "accidentally" mentioned something about my cat--and guess what? The world didn't explode! The girl I was talking to was actually really interested in my cat and thought it was SO COOL that I could have my cat with me. After that, I realized it was okay to be myself and not try to hide what is a big part of my life. Being more authentic and honest has helped me accept myself and has also helped open doors to great discussions with others!

5. Boys Complicate Things-stick to brothers

Having a boyfriend or "talking" to a guy is great and exciting, but it is also stressful, time-consuming, and complicated. I've experienced this a couple times (and it ended in a flaming train wreck), and I've witnessed friends experience it (and seen it end in a flaming train wreck). You know what's really great though? Having guys that are more like brothers to you. Call me crazy, but this is actually great. My brother lives two hours away so I don't get to see him much. Thankfully I've been able to meet some XY species at college who I think of as brothers. There is absolutely zero attraction there so I don't have to worry about that; instead I think of them as my brothers. They are all followers of Christ as well, and I can ask for prayers or advice from them. Nobody gets lead on, hurt, or upset. Everybody is just friends-brothers and sisters in Christ.

So there you have it! Summer is a new beginning. By the grace of God, I survived sophomore year and am on to bigger and better things.

It's Not Over Yet,

Sarah

Roger Gene: My Furry Fighter for Happiness

Prepare yourself for an overload of cuteness. If you know me at all, chances are you know about Roger. In case you don't (plus I just love sharing our story), here's a recap:

First picture

The first three weeks of my sophomore year were some of the worst weeks of my life. This is a happy post so we're not going into detail, but I knew that I would be able to sleep better and cope with life better if I had my kitty with me. Oliver is my cat at home; he's been with us for almost 12 years. When I was sick in college, Oliver was a constant companion who slept with me, snuggled with me, and could sense when I wasn't feeling good or sad. So how does one get a cat into a college dorm? Thanks to my amazing hall director, I talked with the folks at the student disability resources on campus. They were able to give me the exact documentation that my doctor needed to provide. It took two tries, but my superhero doctor was able to provide the correct documentation needed to bring a cat into the dorm to work as an emotional support animal. As much as I missed my Oliver, I knew he would not be happy in a dorm. He's been living the sweet life for almost 12 years and was getting very spoiled by my parents. I was worried that bringing him to college would stress him out and he would die. Obviously, that would do nothing to help me. So I came up with Plan B: adopt a new cat. The day after I got the "okay" to bring a cat into my dorm, my mom and one of my best friends went to an animal shelter close to my house. It was a complete downpour, but I would have walked through a blizzard to get a cat. We told the sweet girl who was working at the shelter that we were looking for an older cat who was declawed. We explained that the cat would be living in a dorm and acting as an emotional support animal. The first cat I visited was a massive black cat who didn't like to be picked up because he was so fat. I petted the cat and he glared at me. That definitely wasn't going to work. The second cat was a little bit more friendly, but didn't like to be held and liked to "play bite" which translated into the cat chewing on my hand. I remember looking at my mom and shaking my head. I was starting to get worried that I wouldn't find a cat. Plus I felt terrible rejecting the other two cats. My mom asked the girl if there were any other cats.

Car ride home

"Hmmm...I can show you Roger." She went on to explain that Roger was only three years old and had his claws but he was very sweet and liked to cuddle. As we walked towards the kennel, a brown and black cat let out a loud meow and jumped from the floor on to the side of the kennel. Holding on my his paws, he meowed at me. My friend laughed out loud and said, "this is the one!" As soon as I picked him up, I knew that he would be coming to live with me. Roger started to purr right away and loved to be held. Go ahead and call me cheesy, but I had tears in my eyes when I told the girl that I would take him. She said we could change his name, but Roger seemed like a good fit. Roger came from a cat hoarder house. The girl working didn't tell us how many cats were there, but about a month before he was adopted there was a story about a house with 40 cats living in it. Because of this, Roger was used to eating as much food as possible and as quickly as possible. This isn't good for his tummy so we were encouraged to feed him smaller meals throughout the day.  this going to work? After we were finished, we went back to Roger's kennel. I got to put him in a box and carry him out of the shelter. I felt like a new parent: scared but happy. My mom had to pay for him and I had to sign a bunch of forms. The whole time I was wondering, is at the same time. It was still raining so my mom went to drive the car around. Roger tried to break out of his box, which scared the living crap out of me and my friend. Once in the car, Roger meowed for a while before climbing in my lap. We took him to the vet to him checked out. He passed with flying colors and slept on my lap the whole way back to school. Once we got him in the building, he explored his new room (my single dorm room). My mom stayed for a while until we were both settled. After she left, I put in a Jane Austen movie and just watched Roger. He adapted immediately and was giving himself a bath, purring, and sleeping on the bed. Two nights after I got Roger, I slept through the night for the first time in one month!

First night at college!

In the six and a half months that I've had Roger, my quality of life has improved so much. Not only am I sleeping amazingly better, but Roger has been able to help me through panic attacks and moments of high stress and/or emotion. Two of the greatest feelings in the world are when he greets me meowing at the door and when he holds my hand when I'm sleeping. I'm so incredibly thankful for his presence; we rescued each other. Living in a cat hoarder house and then a small kennel with two other cats must have been rough. It makes me so happy to see Roger sleeping on my bed or in my window, where cats belong. Roger loves to eat so he always makes sure I get out of bed to feed him. He knows when I'm upset; he always comes over to me, licks my hand or face, and purrs. Sometimes he'll act really silly and and roll around on the floor while meowing at me, which always makes me laugh.

One of my favorite pictures

Having a cat in the dorms has worked really well. I've only had two negative encounters with people who didn't know what to say about Roger so they said the wrong thing, but other than that everyone has been excited there's a cat and glad that I have him with me. Roger has a steady fan club and his own Instagram account (the_rog1029), follow him! :) So there you go, that's the story of my furry fighter for happiness!

It's Not Over Yet,
Sarah (and Roger Gene)

Just a few of my favorite pictures :) 

All I Want Is Freedom

March 2016

"All I want is freedom...a day with no more night." These words are sang beautifully in the song All I Ask of You in Andrew Lloyd Weber's musical, Phantom of the Opera. My family has always loved this musical; my brother and his wife danced to his song at their wedding; I recently discovered a connection with this song while playing it on my piano over spring break. Ideally, this song is sang by a young woman sharing her love to her sweetheart. Gag. Yeah, it would be nice to have a sweetheart to sing sweet lyrics to, but that's not happening anytime soon so I looked at the lyrics, especially the lyric quoted above, as a way to express something that has been happening frequently with me: panic attacks.

Panic Attacks
Google defines panic attack as a "sudden feeling of acute and disabling anxiety." Google definitely nailed this one. I would describe a panic attack as what you feel when you're home all alone and hear a door shut upstairs. However, much more intense and lasts longer. Each person is different, but since I'm pretty much an open book, I'll describe my symptoms for you:

• Intense fear 
• Inability to breathe normally or at all
• Shaking
• Racing heart
• All my muscles tense
• Inability to swallow or talk
• No sense of control of anything
• Inability to move
• Crying

Sounds like a blast right? If I wasn't so used to panic attacks, I would probably think I was dying. In October, I was diagnosed with panic disorder by a counselor. I knew I had been having panic attacks since the summer, but having another diagnosis wasn't encouraging. I try not to keep track of how many panic attacks I have, but I've been having more than I ever had in the past month and a half. 

Why?

Again, each person is different. All of my panic attacks have been triggered by something. This something can be seeing a person or place with a bad memory, smelling something, tasting something, seeing a picture of someone or a picture of someone who looks like somebody else, memories, etc. While it definitely sucks, I know of people who have panic attacks and have no idea why. At least with me, I can try my very best to avoid situations and/or people that could possibly trigger a panic attack. I don't understand a lot about the brain, but I do know that different parts of our brain react and remember things. So while I fully know that I am in no danger when I have a bad memory or see a picture of someone who looks like somebody else, my brain tells me the opposite (thanks brain). I don't think I've ever had a panic attack triggered by my health journey (see other blogs), with the exception of Dr. Satan in Iowa City. All of my triggers come from my freshman year of college and last semester. I'll spare both of us the probably-panic-attack-inducing details, but I want to reassure you that I am safe place now and am slllllloooowwwwllllyyy working towards being in a healthier mental place as well :)

Panic Attack Coping 101

Roger Gene

I'm still pretty new at this whole panic attack life so I'm still learning how I cope best. I got through the vast majority of panic attacks on my own  by the power of God, but lately I've been blessed with people who have been able to come to me and help me out. Whether it's my mom, my best friend Ellen, or a woman who works with the campus ministry at my college, these people have been there almost every time. Trying to remember to breathe on your own is pretty hard so having someone to lean on always helps. And of course, there's always my Roger. Roger is my beloved emotional support animal. During a recent attack, I couldn't breathe until my mom laid him in my arms. Even touching him during an attack helps. If I'm not with Roger, I will look at the 400+ pictures of him I have on my phone, and that also helps. Music is another powerful aide. During one attack when I was on my own, I listed to the song Shoulders by my favorite band, For KING & COUNTRY over and over again until I felt better. Recovering from panic attacks is also a challenge. I always feel very disorientated, guilty, emotional, sore, and dead tired. Coloring really helps me focus on something else while my body is transitioning back into a normal state. I always listen to my For KING & COUNTRY playlist, which has been a lifeline in so many situations, to help settle my mind and spirit. I'm a big believer in aromatherapy. I've mentioned in previous blogs about smelling the soap that my two favorite doctors use, and recently I discovered the calming properties of lavender essential oil (side note: if anyone is interested in essential oils, my sister-in-law is a freaking genius and has her own essential oil business; she will be able to help you!). Smelling these two scents has been able to help calm me when I'm anxious as well as recover after a panic attack. Going back to triggers, I can never predict when I'm going to see/hear/taste/smell something that will trigger an attack. However, lately I've been able to stop four panic attacks before they've happened! I may not feel like I'm making any progress but that is pretty huge! I can usually sense an attack coming if I've been having lots of bad memories/flashbacks all day. When I start to feel anxious and have trouble breathing, I do lots of things. I put my earbuds and my trusty For KING & COUNTRY playlist in. I start praying. I smell my doctor soap and spray my lavender essential oil on myself. I look at pictures of Roger. I reach out to others through text message or if I'm with someone I tell them what's going on (if they're one of the blessings God has put in my life).

What Can You Do?

Ah yes. A very few select people have been with me when I'm having a panic attack. Three to be exact. This is pure pride talking, but I don't want people to see me in the state I'm in when I'm having a panic attack. Unless you're one of these three Godly women, you would probably think I'm dying if you saw me having a panic attack. I'm sure it's incredibly difficult to know what to do in a situation like mine. The people who have been with me have all done the same things:

• They pray with me
• They hold me
• They speak the truth
• They don't panic (or at least don't show it!)
• They understand
• They encourage me and don't belittle me

The support and love these women have showed me during what I would call the worst moments of my life has been an incredible thing to witness. One time I was having a panic attack in a bathroom on campus. I texted one of my friends and she immediately called me. Of course I didn't want to pick up because I was embarrassed (hello again pride) but I did, and I discovered that I actually recovered faster because talking forced me to breathe. I'll never be able to tell these people how grateful I am for their presence during these moments.  I've also been blessed with friends who know what I just experienced and offer comfort while recovering. I really like hugs. Like I really really enjoy hugging. It's just wonderful. After every attack that's happened recently, there have been people around to hug me. At home it was my mom (and she hugs me a lot; I love it), but at school it's been my amazing friends. Even though it's hard to admit to people that I'm struggling, the understanding, compassion, support, and love from my friends are so rewarding. 

What Now?

Like with everything else related to my health, I have NO idea how long I'll be having panic attacks, and I don't like to think about it. One time during an attack, my mom told me this: "take it one second at a time." That's been my motto with life in general ever since. I never want to be that person who doesn't do anything because there's a possibility that she could have a panic attack. I've been that person before, and I don't like her. That's not who I am. Yes, bad things have happened to me. Yes, these things have obviously left a mark on me, mentally. Am I still a full time college student? Yes. Am I still studying hard to be a pediatric dietitian? Yes. Am I still a child of God, deeply loved and cherished by Him? Yes. No matter what happens to me, nothing will change that. My identity isn't found in what has happened to me, and it isn't found in my panic attacks. Satan wants me to believe that because I have panic attacks, I'm not a good enough Christian. There was a time after an attack when I believed that. I thought maybe I didn't pray enough or try hard enough. When I voiced my concern to a friend, my friend helped me realize that none of that was true! My friend told me to rest in Jesus and what He has already done. 

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present of the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."-Romans 8:38-39

The thing that I love about the verse above is I can identify with every possible thing that could separate me from God. Literally, everything! The great thing is that NONE of it ever will separate me from my Heavenly Father.

The purpose of writing this post was to

 1) inform and educate others on panic attacks

 2) share a bit of my story, which ultimately brings more healing to me and hopefully more understanding the hurricane that is my world :P

3) to help stop the stigma associated with panic attack and other mental health disorders. 

Like I said earlier, this demon doesn't identify me or change who I am and it certainly won't separate me from the love and grace of God.

It's Not Over Yet.

It Has Changed Me

January 2016

"He hasn't ruined you. You're living proof of that." 

"No, but he has changed me."

{Downton Abbey, season 6}

One of my New Years Resolutions was to "accept my flaws and weirdness". Yes, that's exactly what I wrote on my mom's cute chalkboard sign. Lately I've been thinking a lot about the interesting little quirks that I have and more importantly, why I have them. Doing this has lead me to realize that all the unique things that make me who I am have come from events in my past. Let's take a peak into the mind of Sarah, a college sophomore with celiac disease, IBS, gastroparesis, gastritis, hypoglycemia, depression, anxiety, panic disorder, and myofascial pain syndrome (new diagnosis...woot!).

-My Physical Health Journey-
*I have an extreme intolerance to people who go gluten free to lose weight and "be healthy."
*I am a million times more compassionate towards people with illness and/or disabilities.
*I have found my true calling in life: to feed premature babies and help kids with digestive disorders.
*I am comforted by the smell of the soap in doctors offices because it reminds me of the pediatrician and pediatric GI doctor.
*I love hospitals. I could spend hours exploring hospitals and learning how they work.
*Being somewhere without food or medicine gives me a lot of anxiety.
*Any new symptom is immediately looked up online and turned into a new diagnosis.
*The Harry Potter series is so special to me because it gives me an escape.
*The hospital in Iowa City gives me immediate panic attacks; even talking about it makes me nervous.
*My heroes all have either M.D. or D.O. behind their names.
*I have a teddy bear named after my doctors, and it's one of my most prized possessions.
*Learning about the human body makes me happy.
*I cry through every children's hospital lip dub video on YouTube.
*I have no problem discussing bowel functions with anyone.
*Even though I've been managing chronic illness for five and a half years, I still get tired of it and miss the person I used to be.

-My Mental Health Journey-
*Roger, my emotional support animal, is my best friend. Mess with him, and I will end you. If you don't like him...I probably don't like you,
*Sometimes I want to cry, but I don't know why.
*Sometimes I feel very nervous for no reason.
*For KING & COUNTRY is so special to me because the lyrics to their songs describe my life perfectly, give me hope, and bring me joy when not much else can [It's Not Over Yet, Busted Heart, Sane, Priceless, Shoulders, Crave, and To The Dreamers].
*I have to protect myself and do what's best for me, even if it means cutting toxic people out of my life.
*I worry about having a panic attack in every situation.
*I really really really really really like hugs....like a lot.
*Even if you can't fix it, I still need love and support from you.
*Reading about the digestive tract calms me down because it's familiar.
*Sometimes I want to go out and be social, but then my social anxiety kicks in.
*My ideal Friday night includes watching a movie with my cat and coloring because I know I won't have a panic attack.
*While I don't have an official diagnosis of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), I do struggle with aspects of PTSD. I have a lot of triggers that take me back to dark places in my past. When this happens, it's hard for me to remember that I'm in the present. I've tried multiple tricks but can never seem to knock this one out. What I need most is support and sympathy during those moments. Sometimes I just need to text my mom and tell her that I'm having flashbacks and then she has some great motherly advice that makes me feel better. Sometimes I just need a hug.
*I struggle with what I'm worth. Living with nine chronic illnesses is definitely very time consuming and as you've read, a big part in who I am today. It's easy for me to think that no man in his right mind would ever want to date, and eventually marry, me. Sometimes I feel very flawed and unaccepted. A lot of this stems from anxiety, as it can twist your brain into believe things that aren't true. I've had encounters with the male species in the past that have not ended well. Both of these losers ended up making me feel like I was nothing more than a person who they could disrespect and dishonor. These two have learned the hard way that I am no such person. However, I went through a bad phase where I didn't consider myself to be anyone special. I figured I was unlovable and just attracted all the losers and cowards and creeps in the world. Then (get ready to go full circle) my mom surprised me with tickets to a concert for my birthday in August. We got to see For KING & COUNTRY at our state fair. I had heard their music (and accents!), and really enjoyed listening to them and the lyrics of their songs. I was completely surprised when they gave their famous "priceless speech" which starts off my saying (and yes I have it memorized): "Girls...don't let any man disrespect your relationship and never settle for second best." It goes on to say that they believe that girls should be treated with "respect and honor" and like princesses. Throw "we believe there's a God who knows you're priceless" in there and I'm in tears. Ever since then I have slowly started to believe and build on the idea that I am priceless, and one of these days God is going to send along someone who believes the same thing. The two guys mentioned above didn't respect or honor me, and they definitely didn't treat me like I was priceless. Instead of me doubting what I'm worth, they should be the ones who feel like crap on the inside. Now I can finally say that I am at a place where I love myself. There's definitely aspects about me that I'm not thrilled about, but slowly and surely I am starting to accept myself and love myself for who I am.

"I love the person I am because I fought to become her."

"Mirror mirror, mirror on the wall/telling those lies/pointing out your flaws/that isn't who you are/it might be hard to hear but let me tell you dear/if you could see what I can see/I know you would believe that isn't who you are/there's more to who you are. So when it's late/you're wide awake/too much to take/don't you dare forget that in the pain/you can be brave/and safe.

I see you dressed in white/every wrong made right/I see a rose in bloom at the site of you/OH SO PRICELESS/irreplaceable, unmistakable, incomparable/darling it's beautiful/I see it all in you/OH SO PRICELESS."-Priceless by For KING & Country 

Living That Chronic Illness Life

August 2015

Well my friends, I think this is going to be as good as it gets. From what I've read, there is no magical cure for depression and anxiety. It's something you have to manage. Hmmmm...does that sounds familiar to you? Celiac disease. No cure; manage it with your diet. IBS. No cure but meds to take the pain away; you still have to manage all the lovely side effects. Gastroparesis. Definitely no cure; eat smaller meals to manage it. Gastritis. No cure; manage it by taking pills to reduce acid. Depression and anxiety; no cure but be observant to what makes you worse, take medication, and try a slew of natural remedies. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). No cure; learn how to avoid your triggers for management. Notice a theme? I think sometimes we focus too much on getting rid of the problem. However, some things in life we can't just get rid of. Realizing that every single day I manage the symptoms of seven chronic illnesses, it's no wonder that I'm so exhausted in the evenings. I read in one of my "self-help books" about how much energy a person uses fighting illness. Managing chronic illness is exhausting. What gives me comfort is that my body is used to managing things that aren't right in my body. Recently, I've had very good days! I don't burst into tears over nothing, and I haven't been too anxious to leave my house. There are still "bad" moments though, especially at night. Is that any different from managing IBS? I've had good days where my digestion agrees with me and then bad days where I swear I can literally feel my colon clamping down. A huge blessing that has come from my health journey is my body's ability to cope and manage. That's why I love this quote so much:

 

I know I can survive anything. I've often given myself this pep talk before. I'll say to myself, 'if you've had your stomach cut open and your gall bladder removed, you can take this organic chemistry test.'

 

One thing I want to make clear is to never let what you manage control your life and who you are. I drug two containers of Miralax and extra prescription medicines across the ocean to England. Nothing is ever going to stand in my way. Not my health, my medicines, my restricted diet, or my past is going to keep me from pursuing my dreams and goals. This determination combined with the ability to survive anything is pure power, and it isn't just for me. No matter what you've been through or what's happened to you, you have the ability and skill to survive. Even if you don't feel like it, I can promise you it's there.

(or man!)

 

So embrace yourself! Even if it seems like nothing is going your way, your situation now is preparing you for the future. Life is going to take unexpected turns, but you will always have what you need to survive. Just stay positive. I could easily complain about how much I hate my life (which I do sometimes, when I'm having a bad day), but every day I have a choice to either stay inside and take pills or bring my pills with me because I'm managing these chronic illnesses and I'm still out there swinging. There came a time when I finally accepted my health journey. It look a long time, and there are still aspects of my health journey that I want to fight, but it's in the past and I've become a stronger person because of it. Eventually I will accept my mental health diagnosis as well, and I'll become accustomed to managing the symptoms, just like I've had to do in the past. The key is recognizing what you have to manage and coming up with ways to manage it.

 

All of what I just said is easier said than done. Some days I feel very overwhelmed with everything that I have to do to manage my chronic illnesses. Other days it's a breeze. It all goes back to managing. Not every day is going to be perfect or the same as the day before. I try to take one day at a time and not worry about tomorrow. I put my trust in God because I know He has a plan for me so huge that I can't even imagine it tonight. I know that God has planned every minute of every day, every tear, and every diagnosis. I know He is with me all the time and loves me very much. I know that God has a reason for why I live with seven chronic medical conditions and His reasoning will always work out for the good. This faith in God is what brings me peace about my health and the future. With God on my side, the ability to survive anything, and a huge dose of determination, I know the possibilities are endless.  

 







When The Meds Don't Work And You Have To Try Again

July 2015

Hi friends, family, and followers! I've been doing alright, maybe even a little bit better. I stopped taking my medicine for depression and anxiety and instead increased the low dose antidepressant I have been taking for IBS. I've had three very good days, which are like bright rays of sunshine. I've had lots of thoughts on my mind lately, and thought I would share them here.

 Self-help books are amazing. It's okay if you feel weird in the mental health section of the library and pray that you don't see anyone you know. I've checked out 10 books about depression, anxiety, and post traumatic stress disorder. My doctor has mentioned how he thinks talking with a therapist would help me. While there is absolutely nothing wrong with seeing a therapist, that route is not for me. I felt very empowered with my stack of books and notebook that I take notes in. When I'm having a rough day, reading these books isn't a good idea and I'm better off reading Harry Potter. On days when I'm doing okay, I take immense comfort in the power of knowledge. Maybe it's the science-minded nerd that I am, but I feel so much better knowing how mental health issues happen and why these issues cause the symptoms that they do. The self-help books have also given me good tips to help manage these issues and help me feel like I'm in control. If anyone reading this is and is struggling with a health problem, I strongly suggest finding books to help explain your condition to you. Knowledge is power!

It's okay to feel the things we feel and accept those feelings. A lot of the books I've been reading have emphasized this a lot. It's important that we recognize feelings and accept them. By doing this, we can remember what caused these feelings. If these feelings aren't positive (called triggers), we can remember what caused the feelings and try our best to avoid them. For example, too much noise and stimulation gives me a lot of anxiety so I avoid places/situations that have this effect on me. Even something has simple has pausing the TV while the water in the tea pot is boiling helps me a lot. I've been able to use ear plugs at home when there is a lot of commotion in the house. At the same time, no noise at all makes me uncomfortable and takes me into my "dark place." So if I'm home alone, I watch TV or go workout until someone else is home and I feel comfortable reading.

Reaching out is so important. I've lost track of the times I've excited my mom or a close friend during an anxiety attack. I have also called my mom in a public bathroom stall during an attack. While it's not the same as being with someone else, talking it out can definitely help. There is NO SHAME in this. Reaching out, asking for prayers, or just telling someone of your struggles is not a sign of weakness. It's a sign of strength: you know you can't do this on your own and you need help. If anyone treats you differently or doesn't support you, get rid of them instantly.

Never underestimate the power of our five senses. Two of the books I read was about post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). As I've said before, I believe I have PTSD. These books highlighted the role that the five senses (sight, smell, touch, taste, and hearing) play a huge role in PTSD. I've experienced this in a negative way: the sight of the hospital in Iowa City sends me into a panic attack; the taste of applesauce and jello reminds me of how much I ate those foods when I was sick. I'll skip the fascinating science behind this, but if you're interested, check out Recovering From Trauma and PTSD and The Everything Guide to Overcoming PTSD. These senses are so powerful when it comes to bringing back bad memories, but I've been blessed to have these senses contribute to bringing me out of an anxiety attack and calming me down: the hospital that I work at uses the same soap that my pediatricians and pediatric GI doctor use. When I randomly smelled my hands at work one day, I immediately felt a calm and peaceful vibe come over me. I didn't put it together until later on in the day, but the smell of that soap reminds me of my doctors. I spent a lot of time with these guys, and what do doctors always do when they see a patient? Wash their hands. My brain associates the smell of that soap with the feeling of peace and safety that those doctors gave me. Whenever I was with them, I felt well cared for. I've been "stealing" this soap from the bathrooms in the hospital and smell it whenever I'm feeling anxious. Sure enough, it works. Every. Single. Time. Now, of course, what kind of sick and messed up person gets comfort from the smell of doctors? I do! Depending on the day, I either burst out laughing or into tears when I have to smell my soap because it is a little strange, but if it works I don't care how crazy it seems!

I'm learning that living with mental health issues is a struggle, especially when the medicine isn't working fast enough, but the burden of living with these issues can be lessened by learning how to cope with these issues in a way that works for you.

Again, thanks for reading! Hopefully these posts are sounding more positive!

Sarah :)

Blessing In The Battle

July 2015

I'm not going to sugar coat anything: as of tonight, I am not doing well. I feel as if the depression has reached an all time low. The medicine my doctor was very confident in didn't work. While there has been a slight decrease in my symptoms, it was never consistent. As of tonight, I am weaning off that medicine and trying something new tomorrow. Today was a really bad day. I'll spare the depressing details but say that I found myself wishing none of this had ever happened. My pediatrician is at the same hospital and office building where my health story took place. Normally this doesn't bother me. In a weird way, I enjoy going to that hospital. It's pretty much my second home, and who doesn't like going home? I have good memories of when I brought cookies to all my doctors and nurses. I still laugh when I think about some of the funny antics of the staff there. However today was different. I was very anxious the entire time there. I kept having PTSD-like flashbacks to the countless times I went into that building sick and hopeless. Suddenly all those happy memories were gone and replaced by dark memories that make me want to run out of the building. That my friends, is what depression does to you. Wishing that it never happened to me won't do anything. It happened. Now I have to live with it. So instead of dwelling on the bad memories and experiences, I wanted to write a post to help me focus on the good memories and blessings that came from my health journey:

*My pediatrician, Dr. S., telling me that it was safe for me to ride all the rides I wanted to at Universal Studios when I had mono
*The percent of people who have died from C.diff is growing, but C.diff didn't kill me
*My first pediatric GI doctor, Dr. D.S., was a quirky little guy with a different personality that always made me laugh
*Going gluten-free and dairy-free has forced me to eat healthier (NOT a reason for going gluten-free though!)
*When Dr. D.S. ran out of ideas, he referred me to an incredible doctor
*This doctor, Dr. Di, gave me a feeling of peace and contentment after the first appointment that I had never felt before when leaving a doctor's office...and called my mom on Labor Day to check on me
*I was tested for Crohn's disease and cancer; both were negative
*Dr. Di's nurse, Nurse J., was easily reached and immediately on it when my mom called saying that I had pain under my right side
*Dr. Di referred me to a great surgeon, Dr. R.
*This surgeon, with his dress pants and scrubs, took my gall bladder out flawlessly and improved my quality of life

*Month by month, my level of nausea dropped, which also improved my quality of life
*Harry Potter is the best distraction
*I truly learned the value of good doctors in January 2012
*Dr. S. came to my rescue when my colon was impacted
*The floor I was hospitalized on was so bright and clean
*Dr. Di was my doctor again and put me on the right medicine that gave me back my life
*I was finally able to deliver my cookie platters and thank my heroes
*I was able to make the Build-A-Bear that I had been dreaming of
*Dr. Di correctly diagnosed and treated me when my stomach problems returned
*Throughout my journey, my faith in God grew tremendously
*I have a great relationship with my mom
*I have a cat who knows exactly when to comfort me
*I have family members across the country who prayed for me
*I have my best friend, Elizabeth, who is always there for me
*I have a sister-in-law who understands me so well and is always encouraging
*My health problems have lead me down the career path that I already love
*Being gluten-free has introduced me to two of my best friends
*My health care team is amazing; they're like family to me











"All our sickness, all our sorrow
Jesus carried up the hill
He has walked this path before us
He is walking with us still
Turning tragedy to triumph
Turning agony to pain
There is blessing in the battle
So take heart and stand amazed." 

Invisible Illness & My Journey

June 2015

Hello friends!
 Not too much change here unfortunately. I'm now up to 20mg of my "happy pills". I've had some occasional bursts of energy in the past few days so I'm hoping the next couple days/weeks will be more positive than the last. If I can stay distracted and busy, the anxiety and sadness doesn't bother me as much. The increased dose is definitely affecting my ultra sensitive stomach. I don't have much of an appetite and my stomach hurts almost constantly. I've been using my previous techniques to help relieve this annoying side effect.

My main purpose for writing this post is to release some thoughts and feelings that have been going through my mind lately. If you see a picture of me, you would never guess that I have four chronic digestive disorders, depression, anxiety, and a touch of PTSD. A picture doesn't show that my small intestine can't absorb gluten or that my colon randomly pinches and gives me pain. You can't tell from a picture that the inside of my stomach is inflamed and I have low stomach acid. You also can't tell that my entire digestive track moves so slowly that I never feel hungry or that I don't have a gall bladder. You definitely can't tell from a picture that I have low serotonin levels in my brain. I have what is called an Invisible Illness, and multiple of them. Just because I look healthy and happy on the outside doesn't mean that's what is going on inside. A popular quote tells us not to judge others because we don't know what battle they are fighting. Since I've gotten sick, I've been more observant about this and am trying to be less judgmental of others. Just because these illnesses are invisible doesn't mean they can't be talked about. I'm a big fan of spreading awareness about my conditions. My motto is, "If you got it, flaunt it. No shame." There is no reason why I should hide what I've been through and what I struggle with now. I know writing this blog has been able to help others who are going through the same thing, and I'm beyond thankful that I have the opportunity to do this.  

Since all my health issues are invisible, it can be easy to be occupied with the present and not the past. It's been almost three years since I was finally healthy in August of 2012. A lot has happened in those three years. Yet there are daily reminders of my health journey everywhere. I have four scars on my stomach from my surgery, my mask from the surgery is hanging in my room, my artwork with prescription labels is also in my room, and I always sleep with my teddy bear dressed in scrubs. All these reminders are so familiar to me now. However, last week I was going through one of my dresser drawers when I found my collection of hospital bracelets with my name, age, DOB, and doctor's name on it. I was already having an emotional day, and this tipped me over the edge. My mom came upstairs to find me surrounded by these paper bracelets and sobbing. I felt like I had finally moved past everything that had happened to me and it all came rushing back. All these images flashed through my mind of me sitting in freezing cold hospital waiting rooms for a test that might give me an answer to what was wrong. I saw myself reading Harry Potter while dressed in nothing but a hospital gown waiting for my second endoscopy and first colonoscopy. I remembered when I got sick the second time around (after being healthy for eight months) and reading a book about British monarchs once again dressed in a hospital gown and waiting for my third endoscopy and second colonoscopy. It's no wonder why I feel I have post-traumatic stress disorder. Don't even get my started on the trip to hell and back when I went to see Dr. Satan in Iowa City. There are "triggers" that get my mind fixed on that nightmare, and I can't do anything to stop that. Don't get me wrong, there are a million positive blessings that came from my health journey, and I thank God for them all the time. Looking at the facts though, there are memories and aspects of my health journey that cause emotional distress when I dwell on them. I don't know what causes this or if it will ever go away, but I think of my health journey as an ever-present companion that I carry with me, for better and for worse.

Thanks for reading,
Sarah

Follow Up: Where I've Been & Where I Am

June 2015

Hello again friends and blog followers! I've decided to write another post about my newly diagnosed depression and anxiety, not because it's a fun topic, but because writing allows me to express my thoughts and feelings in ways that I most likely wouldn't do in a conversation. Let's start with an update on how I'm doing as of today. I've been on my medication for three weeks tomorrow (Thursday). The dosage was increased on Monday. This medicine is semi-helpful. The need for massive amounts of Miralax has decreased and the pain from the gastritis flare up is gone! In my last post I mentioned how the medicine was giving me anxiety attacks. While these attacks still come, they don't last as long and aren't as frequent. I've even been able to distract myself when attack helps (usually by looking at pictures of those adorable Royal babies!) so I don't need to reach out. Unfortunately, the medicine is not helping with the fatigue, muscle aches, joint pains, and depression. My doctor increased the dosage in hopes that a higher dose will help with these remaining symptoms. I've gone to the gym every day for two weeks (I did skip a couple days and walked around the lake with my mom, but that still counts as a workout!), which helps energize me, stabilize my moods, and makes my muscles ache less.

Pedicures with mom

So how am I coping until the medicine starts fully working? To be 100% honest, it's the hardest thing I've had to do. I've been comparing this bout of illness with my previous run-ins with chronic illness. In the past, my health problem was physical. My stomach was upset. My body couldn't digest gluten anymore. My gall bladder was causing me pain. My abdomen hurt. My colon decided to be a pain in the butt (I'm cracking up at that pun by the way!). My stomach was inflamed and full of bile. All physical problems. During all of my previous health issues, I've "still had my brain", for lack of better wording. Even though those problems sucked, I was able to think clearly and choose to see the positive. With mental health issues, I don't have that ability. As much as I try and as much as it's pointed out to me, it's hard to see the bright side. It's all due to the chemical imbalance, not something that I can control. That adds an element of frustration to all this. I am BEYOND THANKFUL for all the family and friends who are supporting me and praying for me. As I said before, this is something I cannot fight alone, and I need every person who is willing to go at this with me. As always, my mom is extraordinary. She gets up at a very early time when I have to work in the mornings because my anxiety tends to be worse when I have to get up early. Being alone and in the dark also makes the depression and anxiety worse so my mom hangs out with me before I fall asleep. She's always doing fun things with me and nice things for me, and I'll never be able to thank her enough!

Awareness Art

   When I'm not working or interning, I try to stay as busy as possible in my free time. I do fun things with my mom and my best friend Elizabeth. I'm re-watching Grey's Anatomy, scrapbooking, creating art projects, and reading the Harry Potter series for the fourth time. In my older posts I talked about bringing a Harry Potter book to the hospital and doctor's offices. The Boy Who Lived and his brilliant creator, J.K. Rowling, are successful again in transporting me to a different world. When I'm feeling anxious and/or sad, I pick up my book and my mind is taken away from the demons that are inside. Most of the time I'm so drop dead tired that I go back and forth between watching Grey's Anatomy and reading Harry Potter; I don't have much energy to do anything else.

Best therapist: cat and
Harry Potter!

So that's where I am now. Some days are better than others. Some days start off well but come crashing down later on. There's no way to predict or prepare for how a day will turn out. The only thing I can do is take each day step by step, lean on the support from family and friends, and trust in God.

Next I would like to share some interesting things I noticed before I was diagnosed, when I was still in college and living in the dorms. I brushed it off thinking it was because of finishing my freshman year, but now I realize that what I'm about it talk about was related to the depression and anxiety. There were many nights where I would be taking a shower and then suddenly freeze. Nothing was bothering me, but I knew there was something wrong. Finally I would come to my senses and get out of the hot water. It was weird, but I didn't think anything of it. I figured I was tired and my brain was stuffed with information. Another weird thing, and this sounds weird, was my eyes. I've always liked the color (green, NOT hazel, mom!!) and shape of my eyes, but I noticed they looked different when I took a selfies/SnapChats to send to friends. It startled me at first when I first noticed it, and I still notice it now. I finally figured out what the strange look was: empty. At the hospital where I work, I've interacted with patients who are depressed, and I see the same look in their eyes. Thankfully my depression isn't as severe as these patients, but the empty look scares me sometimes. I've gotten pretty good at faking that everything is all sunshine and butteries so it can be hard to notice this. *FYI: I would appreciate it if all you lovely people didn't get uncomfortably close and stare into my eyes...if you can resist the temptation :P* Anyways, I noticed these two weird "symptoms" before I put anything else together, but now it's reassuring to know that there's an actual real reason for all of this.

And there you have it: a peak at where I've been in the past and where I am now. Hopefully the next follow up post will have more positive vibes to it!

Thanks for reading and stay tuned,
Sarah

Where My Demons Hide: My New Battle

May 2015

Hello friends and blog followers! It's been quite a while since I last posted on here; I've been busy! Here's a quick update before we dive into this post:

I just finished a great first year of college! I am studying Dietetics and Child, Adult, & Family Services, and I absolutely love it. I've met some incredible people and learned a lot. It took me a while to adjust to living away from home, but I finally got the hang of it. I'm already excited for the Fall 2015 semester to start!
    I had the opportunity to go across the pond to England over spring break with my English class. I had so much fun! England has so many gluten-free options, and I didn't even get "glutened" on the trip. My class and I went to Exeter (southwest England), Dartmoor, and London. It was amazing to see all the famous landmarks that I've dreamed of seeing since I was little. This trip was very triumphant for me; I was able to prove to myself that my health can never hold me back from doing anything.

    I'm spending my summer working at a hospital as a Diet Clerk. I really enjoy my job, and I like the hospital environment. As morbid as it may sound, I feel so comfortable being in the hospital and around sick patients, doctors, and nurses.

So that's what I've been up to since my last post. Now to the actual reason why I'm posting. Most of you have read my previous posts and/or are familiar with my very long health history. Writing this blog was a therapeutic way to accept what was happened to me and learn to appreciate all the blessings that came from it. If anyone is reading my blog for the first time, a quick overview is: celiac disease diagnosis in 2011, gall bladder removed in 2011, trip to hell and back (a.k.a University of Iowa hospital) in 2012, hospitalized in 2012, diagnosed with IBS and gastroparesis in 2012, healthy in August of 2012, sick again in April of 2013, diagnosed with gastritis in 2013, and healthy again in September of 2013. That's a lot of time spent not feeling well, hanging out with doctors and nurses, tests and procedures, and a lot of health conditions to manage. A completely reasonable question to ask would be, how did you cope with all that?! All my strength and energy comes from God, and I put my trust and life in His hands all the time. God has blessed me with supportive family members and friends who have helped me survive. He has also given me the best medical team anyone could ask for. He has given my doctors and nurses wisdom and compassion to help me overcome and live with all that I have. Even though I do have four chronic digestive disorders, I feel well probably 80% of the time. So why am I posting on here again? What else could I possibly have? Well, it turns out my current health struggle isn't a physical struggle.

After spring break, I began to notice some unusual symptoms that I naturally matched up with what was going on in my life. Fatigue. College is exhausting, but I felt more fatigue than usual. I dismissed this as returning from the trip of a lifetime in England, taking organic chemistry, and heading towards the last month of freshman year. Joint pain and muscle aches. I was running up to four miles, but minor injuries over time caused me to not be able to run as far anymore. I had twisted my ankle running and didn't let the injury heal properly before running again. That caused minor knee problems. Once again, I didn't rest and got shin splints. Weight gain. With gastroparesis, I feel no hunger and I feel fullness quickly. Because of this, I don't really eat that much. Add in my very active lifestyle and you get a skinny girl. Nothing had changed with my diet or lifestyle but yet I was constantly gaining weight and my clothes weren't fitting the same. Constipation. I like to keep this blog as honest as possible so sorry if constipation isn't your favorite topic. Due to IBS and gastroparesis, I drink a good amount of Miralax every day, but I noticed that the amount of Miralax I drank was getting outrageously high, over 50 ounces a day. Mood swings and sadness. I easily dismissed this symptom as a result of the fatigue, not being able to run, and all the frustrations that come with college classes.  I was also experiencing a gastritis flare which made the fatigue even worse and my stomach hurt every time I ate. How did I handle all this while attending classes, keeping up with homework, and studying for finals? Once again....God.

When the semester ended and I was finally able to decompress at home, the symptoms seemed to get worse. Of course, who wouldn't be exhausted after their first year of college? Who wouldn't feel sad because they missed their friends from college? I kept telling myself that this was all normal, and there was nothing to worry about. Meanwhile, my mom was keeping track of the symptoms I had reported to her and was looking on the Mayo Clinic's website. All the symptoms in bold above matched perfectly with the symptoms for hypothyroidism--a condition where the thyroid gland doesn't produce enough hormones. I have been seeing an endocrinologist since the summer of 2011 when my first pediatric GI doctor did blood work to determine why I wasn't feeling better. My thyroid levels have been on the low side of normal but nothing to worry about. Hypothyroidism runs in my family and is common in people with autoimmune issues, such as celiac disease. I just so happened to have a check up with my endocrinologist coming up. I was starting to feel miserable. The fatigue and sadness were really bringing me down. I had lost interest in doing anything; I just wanted to lay in bed. The appointment finally arrived and I presented all my symptoms to my doctor, who ordered seven blood tests. My mom and I anxiously awaited these results. We had already self-diagnosed me with hypothyroidism and now we just waited for the blood work to confirm our diagnosis. The blood work came back the next day but was a major shocker. Everything was normal. No thyroid problems whatsoever. I immediately started to freak out because I figured there was another worse problem. WebMD came up with lupus, fibromyalgia, and the plague, just to name a few terrible diseases. My mom made an appointment for the next morning with one of the pediatricians who helped me when I was sick. My usual doctor, Dr. S., was on vacation but Dr. El., another great doctor in the same practice, could see me. I went to the appointment expecting a few hours of blood work, x-rays, and who knows what else. After all, lupus or fibromyalgia would probably be tricky to diagnosis. Dr. El. went over the blood work from the endocrinologist, asked a series of questions, and did a physical exam. When he said that he wasn't going to do any more blood work or tests, I didn't panic because he's so thorough that I knew I could trust him. Dr. El. then explained how the symptoms I had been having were also the same symptoms for low serotonin levels. Serotonin is a chemical in the brain that helps with moods/happiness. The more Dr. El. talked, the more and more I realized what I had been struggling with some mid-March. I finally realized the emotions I had been struggling with weren't normal. It wasn't normal to cry for no reason in your room for two hours. It wasn't normal for something totally random to make you burst into tears. It wasn't normal to feel so much anxiety that you can't breathe when someone doesn't text you back right away. While sitting in exam room with my mom and Dr. El., I finally felt relief. I couldn't stop the tears from coming. I wasn't crazy. There was nothing physically wrong with me. Dr. El. explained that depression and anxiety is very common in people with a history of GI issues and "responsible students". Dr. El. prescribed an antidepressant that is commonly used to treat depression and anxiety. He warned me that I could endure 7-10 days of feeling worse before I could feel better, and it might take anywhere from 2-6 weeks to start seeing a difference in how I felt. I'll skip the fascinating science of the medicine and get right to the main point: I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety on May 21, 2015. I am depressed.

The medicine is being a pain in the butt as it is making me feel worse. So far I've woken up with anxiety attacks twice, had anxiety attacks throughout the day multiple times, feel like crying more, lost my appetite, feel dark inside, and feel even more tired than before. These anxiety attacks are really starting to take their toll on me. Describing one of these moments is difficult to put into words. During an attack, I often feel very shaky, scared, and helpless. My stomach is instantly upset, and I feel like throwing up. It's hard to focus on anything, even though I try to force happy thoughts into my mind. Sometimes one of these attacks is brought on by a thought about the future, but most of the time it happens for no reason. It's always worse when I'm alone and don't have anyone to distract me or calm me down. Occasionally the feelings will fade as quickly as they were brought on, but other times some of the feelings stay with me for the rest of the day. Tomorrow marks one day on this tiny white pill that makes me miserable, and I can only pray that I will start to see some improvement soon.

I do not like the label of being "depressed". I prefer to call it chemically challenged because that is actually what is happening inside my brain. This depression and anxiety isn't my fault; it's basically a side effect of my digestive issues. I definitely do not like the social stigma that goes along with not just depression and anxiety but any other mental health issue. When you think about it, the only difference between depression and celiac disease (or any other disorder I have) is where in the body something isn't right and what it affects. Our society acts as if depression and anxiety are unspeakable when in reality it's common. I may not want to openly discuss this new health issue at the dinner table because it can be difficult to accept and understand let alone talk about it. However, I wanted to write this post for several reasons:
1) Therapeutic: as I said earlier, writing this blog really helped me recover mentally and emotionally from everything that happened to me with my health, and my hope is that writing this post will do the same.
2) Knowledge: I feel like I'm hiding a dark and dirty secret sometimes by not talking about this diagnosis. While I would prefer to not discuss it in depth in person, I do want to be 100% honest whenever I can be.
3) Awareness: depression and anxiety are more common than people think. Everyone has heard of it but knowing someone with it brings it closer to home.
4) Prayers: if you're reading this and feel inclined to do so, please pray for me. This is not going to be an easy battle to fight, and I definitely can't do it alone. I have seen nothing but support and love from my family and friends, and I am beyond grateful for that.

Thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this,
Sarah