Living Without Sugar Has Killed Me- Just kidding - Sorta

Week 2 -4 Without Sugar

Day 14 without sugar and I was hoping to be super skinny with fabulous skin by now. Hey, what's a blog if not a place for absolute honesty? And I know the current line of thinking is to love ourselves in our own skin no matter what, but steroids have given me a moonface, acne, puffy eyes and hair that goes between thinning and greasy- the person staring back at me in the mirror is not me. And the depressed person living inside this bloated version of me is not me either. So love is a little short around here at the moment.

I'm trying desperately to hide the way I feel about myself too, because I have a teenager and a preteen in the house- listening to every word I direct at myself. And their comments about body image are a mirror reflection of my comments- good or bad.

 Society, and media may play a big part in our children's idea of body image- but I'm afraid that Mom's view plays a even bigger part in her daughter's ideas of self.

So right now I feel like Crohn's has scored a few points and I'm at the end of the field, stuck in the mud, with a head trauma and no points to show for the pain. And the doctors have started to call, - twice now- bugging me about taking the Humira. 

I know they're just worried about my health. They don't make money off this, right? 

I still haven't figured out insurance. So even if I wanted to risk my health and take the Humira- I lack the financial resources to pay for it. The doctors will have to have a bit of patience for their difficult patient.

I am definitely in an Eeyore sort of mood. 

Day 21 without sugar- or mostly without sugar. It's so easy to cheat. Just one latte. Just one little cookie. But now I feel blah when I drink that much sugar or eat that much sugar. And pasta and bread has lost all appeal. There is no Italian in my veins because I don't even miss the pasta at this point. I've consumed one sandwich with bread in the last three weeks.  I'm starting to love Paleo 'sandwiches'- which are made with huge leaves of greenery. I know, it's just salad in more salad, but it's fricking good and crunchy and my stomach loves it. 

Day 28 without sugar. I was super depressed today and made a big bowl of comfort food- spaghetti with pizza sauce. A childhood favorite. There is something warm and comforting about slurping the long, tomato coated noodles, soaked in butter and sprinkled with black pepper. 

And nothing...

No emotional comfort...

No release of dopamine in the brain.

Just a heavy gut and a feeling of disappointment.

I have noticed immense improvement in my Crohn's, but I still have two areas in my gut that pain me- so I know they're still swollen slightly and that scares me. If I keep fine tuning the paleo, add the bone broth, which is suppose to be a liquid form of much needed minerals and nutrients for the human body- and if I finally figure out how to make a regular schedule of exercise work - than perhaps it will be enough. 

And perhaps it won't and that uncertainty is hard to deal with. 

So something that I thought would be relatively easy- giving up sugar- has became a inner look into my weaknesses- like a walkabout, but without the cool, travel across Australia story to go with it.  Hence, this flare up of my Crohn's has sent me on a spiritual journey of some sort and I am kicking and fighting it the whole way. While I struggle to find meaning and reason behind pain and suffering and poor health- both in my own life and the people I know around me suffering from worse things like cancer- I know that Crohn's is a formidable foe...

but I can be my worse enemy. Because there is no critic with a louder voice than the one in my own head. And she's not always nice. 

I think I'm going to ground her- to her room until she realizes that failure is more perfectly normal than trying to be perfect.

Hero Hottie and his Mopey Pregnant Wife

    Recently, Hero Hottie read my most recent blog, Life in Transition. He was very quiet when he finished and I asked him what he thought of it.
    "It was well written." He says.

     Translation: I wrote it well but...

    "What's wrong with it?" I asked, about to cry for about the hundredth time that day. The poor guy had already dealt with my mood swings all morning. When he went to buy a cup of coffee and asked if I wanted anything I just sat on the couch all glumly and mopey. Perhaps it was the weather, or listening to emotional songs all last night, or just being pregnant but I was still in a funk. And not a good groovy funk but an Eeyore kind of mood.
    "Woes is me. I'm just a pregnant woman all fat and frumpy."

    "How about a root beer?" he asks because that has been one of my cravings this pregnancy. "I will buy what ever kind you like."
     Even a root beer didn't sound tasty. I really was in a mood. "No," I muttered, shrugging my shoulders.
     "No root beer? Nothing?" He starts naming off brands and not just regular gas station root beers but ones he would have to go out of his way to buy. The really good kinds brewed with real sugar and not high fructose corn syrup and bottled in glass bottles. You know a man loves you when he's willing to drive all over town for a single bottle of root beer.
    But I still couldn't shake off the mood. It was clinging to me like a little black rain cloud.

    He sighs, clearly frustrated and a bit worried that he can't fix my mood with a root beer. I'm usually a very positive person, so falling into an Eeyore type of mood and actually staying there was quite unusual for me, even with being pregnant.
    "Is there anything I can get you?"
     I sigh now because there has to be something that will make me feel better and the guy is trying so hard to fix.
    "Hot chocolate." I finally decide on my other craving this pregnancy.
     "The Starbucks one from Safeway?" he asks.
     I nod, hating to send him out of his way but I can't just have hot chocolate from the coffee shop. It has dairy in it and my stomach hates dairy now with a passion. Never used to be that way but it is now. So I have to find hot chocolate I can have, which is difficult. But Starbucks has hot chocolate packets you can buy that probably aren't real good for you because like the first or second ingredient is sugar but they have a chocolaty goodness that makes me not care. Mmm, hot chocolate. And studies have shown chocolate is good for you. I think it should be it's own food group, right up there with fruit. Because strawberries and chocolate when put together should be considered a super food. 

    But back to the story...I had hot chocolate and my mood still doesn't improve. Finally when Hero Hottie is out the door for work, he has clearly had enough with my mood.
     "Are you going to pity yourself all day?"
      I frown. "I'm pregnant and on bed rest. I can be moody if I want to." I defend myself and my mood.
     "But it's not doing you or that baby any good."
      My frown deepens. Do I try to use the pregnancy card again or do I admit that I have let my mood sink into a self pity party of one?
     Yes, life is changing. I'm in a mode of transition, but isn't life normally like that? Nothing stays the same, nothing is frozen in time. Our babies are born, they learn to walk and in time they leave the nest.
     Nothing is static.
     My Mom used to tell me that she was glad when life was boring. When someone would ask her if there was anything going one she was always happy to tell them that nothing was going on and nothing had changed.
    I used to agree with her because I was usually focused on the negative changes in my life. And who wants those?
    But then I started to fear change. Any change. And not all change is something to fret over, or to worry about, or to dread.
   Some change is wonderful and has to be embraced...or we remain static.
  
   I was looking up Ecclesiastes to find the quote about "There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heaven." Some people might know the entire verse from Sunday school; others might recognize it from the song by The Byrds.
   But I found another quote further down on the page that I thought was more fitting. It reads, "Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor. If they fall down, they can help each other up. But pity those who fall and have no one to help them up!"
  
   We aren't supposed to go through life alone. Changes are supposed to be shared. Hard times are supposed to be traveled together. When I wrote about my Life in Transition, I was given a lot of support and love from the people around me.
   I wasn't alone.
   And Hero Hottie was right. Self pity was not doing me any good. A little sulk can help you cleanse your system of the heavy emotions but you can drown in them if you're not careful.
  
   Finally, I answer him. "I am throwing myself a self pity party and I'm done."
   And I meant it. Later that day I connected with my friend which improved my mood, I spent time with Bean which I cherish because I do realize that someday she will be grown and on her own and I enjoyed time with Baby Blueberry as she kicked up a storm in my womb.
    And I have a husband who will drive all over town to find something, such as a bottle of root beer, to cheer up my mood. But who will also challenge me to keep growing and changing as a person.

    So Change, bring it on. I can't guarantee I won't find my Eeyore sometimes, but I will do my best to meet you head on.
    And I'll be bringing my army of loved ones to help me face you.