I need to remember, that when a person is struggling, how other people react to their struggle is entirely about them, not the person. When times are difficult, we really need to evaluate who are “our people,” and who are not, (while remembering, no revenge is needed, sigh).
This! This is me.
Most of the time, I feel alone living like this. All my thoughts spiraling, and then I add on top of those the thoughts that I shouldn’t complain, that other people have it worse, and I need to look at all the positives, not the negatives…yeah, when my thoughts spiral, those thoughts just invalidate how I actually feel, and isolate me.
This is why I find coming in here to blog out my thoughts to the internet therapeutic. I take a deep breath, sort out some of my spiraling thoughts, express them in writing, and then I feel a bit better. I feel heard, even when it’s just me listening to myself. I give myself a mental hug for having to deal with these thoughts, and to not necessarily be able to control them, but to at least see a way through them.
I carve a way forward through all those thoughts, counting, measuring, and inventorying all the things. And then go on with my day, looking exactly like I have it all put together, behind a polite smile and my to-do list.
I can do everything “right,” count every macro, take all the vitamins, and my body might still say: Nope!
I have spent a lot of my life (let’s be honest) fairly focused (obsessed) with dieting, because at a young age I grabbed and then held onto the idea that “going on a diet” and losing weight would solve a lot (if not all) of my problems.
I carried this belief well into adulthood, and maybe even a part of me still wants to believe it even now. I simply did not want to let go of the belief that it was true, because diet (all the things I eat in a day) was something I could control, seemingly, in a world of so many things out of our control.
Probably, periods of “giving in” or “losing control” over what I was eating, were JUST so I could go on another diet and feel like I was “taking back control.”
Sigh.
Therefore, I have also spent a lot of time playing mental games with myself when it comes to food and exercise, to unpack excuses from realistic reasons, find the root causes of poor decisions, determine and solve the drivers of motivation and procrastination, and create effective tools and structure for positive routines leading to desirable outcomes.
That all just sounds like a load of crap to me right now. If this was a Nike commercial, it would say: Cut out all the bullshit, and just. do. it. Do better!
But sometimes you are doing better…yet the outcome is still NOT what is expected. I am not perfect, but when I look at how I have been managing my diet, consistently, for the last 2.5 years now, I suspect there is more going on with my body these days than simple calories in and calories out.
It’s not just menopause, (and now I am on HRT). It’s not just two months of numbers displayed on my smart scale. It’s not my clothes. It’s not even my recent test results. It’s something else I can feel, and yes, I think I can see it. I think my body composition is changing, in an accelerated way, and not for the better.
Of course, yes, my smart scale is confirming this. So, which came first, the scale or the feeling? Honestly, the feeling came first, which is why I wanted the scale.
If you listen to medical testimonials on YouTube, you will hear a common theme. “The test results said everything was normal, but I just knew something was wrong.” In my opinion, people do have an instinct about what is going on with their body, even if they struggle to have the language or the ability to say exactly what it is. So they go to the doctor and describe the symptoms they can put words to, and hope the doctor will run the right test that confirms that IF something is wrong, what that something is.
Deep down, I know that I am not saying I think there is something wrong just because a smart scale says there is, or a recent follow up test says there are negative changes. I know it’s because I have been feeling less strong, less capable, like the things that I do take more effort than they used to.
I feel like I my muscles are actually…getting weaker.
I have a sneaking suspicion I am not absorbing as much as one would hope in terms of the protein I do eat…I am thinking of switching to high protein (ultra filtered) milk, (even though double the protein will mean double the price), and trying for even higher daily protein goals, to better swing the odds in my favor.
“Why hEDS-Related Delayed Emptying Causes Protein Malabsorption:
Impaired Digestion Time: When the stomach empties too slowly, food remains in the stomach too long, leading to partial digestion and preventing the necessary breakdown of proteins into amino acids for absorption in the small intestine.”
So, I am trying to increase daily protein, to consistently over 100 grams a day, but maybe I am not absorbing it. And because I have NO control over it, I have to stop twisting myself into to knots worrying about it. It is what it is.
That does not mean I want to stop trying, but I have to stop worrying about the outcome. I will be honest, I have been allowing too much worry about outcomes I cannot control steal my peace.
One thing about having a smart scale tracking so many metrics, is I started only weighing myself on it once a week. It was just too weird to try and do it every day. Fluctuating hydration levels meant I could lose a significant amount of muscle (??) in just 24 hours? No, probably not. So, once a week measurements have been making much more sense.
But…it does look like my body composition in terms of muscle is declining.
I am NOT going to let this depress me. Firstly, maybe the scale is not all that accurate. Secondly, it would probably be worse if I was not trying so hard to NOT lose muscle. Could I be doing more to improve my muscle? Probably. Even though I am hitting my protein goals, I am not really resistance training. And that is okay. I am doing really well despite dealing with declining heart function.
I have to look at the good stuff. I feel well overall, but I cannot deny I have had more fatigue to deal with than I did—even at this time last year. But I am not going to beat myself up. I can honestly say I am showing up for my health every day and doing the best I can with the energy I have.
I could add a little bit of resistance training maybe, but first I am going to talk to my cardiologist at the end of the month about exercise (and muscle loss) and fatigue.
I am glad I got the scale. I would rather have a rough idea where I am at (give or take it’s unverifiable accuracy), than just pretend everything is probably fine, and be really shocked when I get my Dexa Scan in June. This way I am prepared for my Dexa, and who knows, there is a chance I will be pleasantly surprised. Either way, I know I am trying, and tracking is just a part of that, regardless of what the tracking says.
Hobbies. Another blogger got me thinking about what I can do while I wait to talk to my cardiologist about my recent follow-up Echo results. I can lean into my hobbies.
I can go skating, which I just love! I can keep going walking, especially because spring is almost here. I even did a “gentle” hike last weekend, (more on that later). I love reading and creative writing, (so much so that I studied it in university and made it my profession), so I can certainly get back to more of that.
But lately, I find myself treating my health like a serious time-consuming hobby, if not a full-time job, lol.
After receiving somewhat unfavorable numbers on my follow-up echocardiogram that I wrote about here, I finally thought to research if there is anything I can do to slow the progression of my mitral valve regurgitation.
When I first learned I had mitral valve disease related to having a connective tissue disorder (hEDS), I had grade 2 (out of 4) regurgitation. I even said in that blog post, “I will not know until some time goes by, and I can have a repeat Echocardiogram, and see if my current level of grade 2 regurgitation is stable for now, or is it progressing.”
Unfortunately, I am now grade 3, with an EROA of 0.3 cm² showing on my recent echo report:
“An Effective Regurgitant Orifice Area (EROA) of 0.3 cm² is generally considered to be in the moderate-to-severe (Grade 3) range.”
So, now that I know things appear to be moving in a less desirable direction, I want to make sure I am doing everything I should be doing in terms of dealing with this new reality.
“Grade 3 (moderate-to-severe) mitral valve regurgitation requires active management to reduce the workload on the heart and prevent progression to severe disease or heart failure. Key strategies involve strict blood pressure control, a low-sodium diet, tailored physical activity, and close medical monitoring.
Lifestyle Modifications to Slow Progression
Good news, I am already doing every single one of these things on this list! But darn, I was hoping I could feel empowered by finding out something NEW that I could do also, but alas, there were no surprises here on this list.
(And can I just say, holy crap, where would I have progressed to in the last 6.5 months if I was NOT already doing those things…)
I’ve never been one to add extra salt to my food, so according to the LoseIt app where I plan and track my food, I average about 2 grams a day. My excessive tea drinking means I am constantly dehydrating myself (tea is a natural diuretic, and I drink a lot of it). So that keeps my overall fluid volume low (less pressure).
Luckily, I have naturally low blood pressure, (very low, it’s always been that way), I just took my reading yesterday afternoon, check it out:
And I went for a nice walk on Saturday, even going up a hill, (a gain of 400 feet, a moderate/easy hike, okay for my heart, as far as I know). But my average heart rate was only 111 beats per minute, so I feel confident I was in the moderate category. (Not sure what the little bit of excitement was there at the end, maybe my sister made me laugh, or something, because we were walking downhill by then, lol). I will be discussing exercise with my cardiologist, but I am pretty sure maintaining my cardiovascular health is helping my heart handle my valve problem.
So, I guess I will stay the course while I wait, and live each day to the fullest, hobbies definitely included.
(Photo taken February 27, 2026, the day after my very first repeat echocardiogram).
I look so healthy. In some respects, I am healthier than I ever have been in my life. Hurray for planning what I eat, (lots of whole foods, thanks to being Celiac, grain free, etc), and eating what I plan for the last 2.5 years, and tons of walking.
But, in the last 6.5 months, my heart valve disease is progressing.
On February 26, I had my very first follow-up Echocardiogram. Before this, I only ever had the one Echo, performed last August, so I had absolutely no other numbers to which I could compare it to.
In fact, prior to last August, no doctor had ever even held a stethoscope to my heart. All I knew was:
In 1999, I had a small elective surgery, (my one and only, and with me then vowing I would never voluntarily do something surgical EVER again, lol), and my heart was fine back then.
In December of 2018, I noted in my journal I had “shortness of breath,” but that maybe it was due to vitamin B9 deficiency, (back then, I was trying to sort out my diet, digestion problems, and other deficiencies I had like iron).
In January of 2020, I had a lung function test due to my “shortness of breath,” but my test was normal, my lungs were fine.
So, my first sign of “shortness of breath” was about 7 years ago. I figured that was probably when I first developed “mild” mitral valve regurgitation. So now, I was truly hoping for a stable comparison Echo, because I did the math. If I was maybe “mild” 7 years ago, and I am moderate now, maybe I have 7 more years before I cross over into “severe.” Because it had only been 6.5 months since my last Echo, which had placed me at “moderate” regurgitation, it made sense to me that ‘relatively unchanged’ was a realistic expectation after only 6.5 months.
In fact, 50% of people with a mitral valve prolapse (which can eventually cause regurgitation) can remain stable for decades! The other 50%, well, factors like high blood pressure can drive progression, but no, my blood pressure is actually low. Advanced age and other negative health conditions? Nope and nope. Bad cardiovascular fitness can weaken the heart, making it harder to handle a valve problem. But that does NOT apply to me either. My fitness was tested, I am above average for my age, even if I didn’t have a valve issue. Even though my weight has fluctuated up and down in my life, I’ve always been someone who is trying to “move more.” I’ve mostly battled just being overweight, (and then always going on a diet), but I have rarely gone up and over into the obese category. And even though there have been times in the last 14 years that I didn’t walk as much, in that time I’ve logged on RunKeeper almost 12,500 kms worth of going out for a walk. I got my first step counter/pedometer back in the year 2000. I went to Workout Express! I am healthy, right??
So, this all feels like I am getting a raw deal here somewhere. It does not feel fair.
I know, sigh, life is not fair. It just is. And obviously this card I’ve been dealt is not nearly as bad as it could be…but I still wish I could just put it back in the deck, and have this NOT be my reality.
Of course, I need to just wait and discuss the findings with my cardiologist on March 30. There is no point in stressing while I am waiting. Maybe these numbers are not the tipping point yet, or anything like that. And it was very smart of me last summer to have asked for the referral to see her. I am lucky to already be set up with her. Someone specialized is already in my corner.
But what started the whole cascade of stress for me was the rest of my Echo numbers hit my health portal yesterday, on March 3, which was my 55th birthday, of all days. Sheesh, talk about timing. And this is where I got into trouble, I googled stuff like:
Question: What does it mean if my E/A Ratio: was .86 and is now 1.01, with a former E/E’ Average of 9.2, which is now 20.5?
Answer: Based on the values provided, your echocardiogram findings indicate a significant increase in your left ventricular filling pressures and a progression in the severity of diastolic dysfunction (difficulty with the heart relaxing and filling with blood).
Oh, for crying out loud, that sounds bad.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, ‘relatively unchanged’ was less likely considering my hernia situation is not stable either. Ug! Stupid “issues with my tissues,” it just is what it is. But I am still bummed out, and a bit stressed.
And the truth? I think I have been feeling it get worse. Last time I had normal pulmonic vein flow. This time they see systolic reversal in pulmonary vein flow. I think that is why I was starting to feel “out of shape,” and extra tired, which I blogged about on January 9. I do have increased shortness of breath, but it’s intermittent. I may have a brief moment on a walk, where I feel winded, but then it’s gone quite quickly. I am actually more out of breath making my bed everyday! (It’s a king-sized bed, it has a fairly hefty comforter that goes over top of it). So maybe I don’t need any intervention at this point…but things are changing. I’ve been feeling it.
On one hand, knowing things are changing with my heart is causing me worry/stress. But NOT knowing doesn’t make it not true, so is there any point to NOT submitting to these follow-up tests, right? I needed to know these numbers, even if they do stress me out. It’s a no-win situation when you are dealing with a serious health issue.
Another WordPress blogger also has ongoing health concerns that are being closely monitored, and recently he had this to say:
“If I could offer one small suggestion to anyone walking that road, [waiting in a doctor’s office], it would be this: bring a book. Or in my case, a Kindle. Reading helps me escape the mental spiral. It shifts my focus away from lab numbers and test results and places it somewhere far more peaceful. If you let it, the stress will take over. And some weeks—like this one—it tries really hard.”
He is so correct, and I appreciate his words of wisdom. There is no point in letting the stress of waiting…and the eventual waiting in the literal waiting room…take over. Despite the progression in just 6.5 months, especially “Systolic reversal in pulmonary vein flow,” which sounds bad, I will enjoy this month immensely. I am off on a trip to see family, and then I will be back in time for my appointment on March 30.
Here are some of the actual comparison findings, side by side, and then what Chat GTP said about it.
Echo findings last time, August 11, 2025:
Prolapse of the anterior and posterior leaflets of the mitral valve.
Moderate mid-systolic eccentric mitral regurgitation.
Normal size left atrium.
Left atrial volume index of 31 ml/m2 (normal is 34 ml/m2).
Normal pulmonary vein flow.
Pulmonic Valve: Normal structure and function of the pulmonic valve.
No pulmonic regurgitation.
Main pulmonary artery normal in size.
Left ventricle ejection fraction = 65-70%
Left ventricle ejection fraction is calculated at 67% by Simpson’s biplane.
Left ventricle Mass (ASE) index 68 g/m2
Echo findings this time, February 26, 2026:
Prolapse of the anterior and posterior leaflets of the mitral valve.
Moderate mid-systolic eccentric mitral regurgitation. Unchanged.
Changes: Left atrium mildly enlarged.
Left atrial volume indexed is mildly enlarged, now measuring 38 ml/m^2 (normal is 34, prior was 31 ml/m^2).
Right atrium volume index increased 25% from 23ml/m^2 to 29 ml/m^2, (but still considered within normal limits until over 30).
The pulmonary vein flow has systolic flow reversal.
Pulmonic Valve: Normal pulmonic valve function with trivial pulmonic regurgitation.
Systolic reversal in pulmonary vein flow.
The aortic root indexed is enlarged 2.2 cm/m^2, (normal for my BMI is generally around 1.8)
Left ventricle ejection fraction = 60-65% (weakening)
Left ventricle ejection fraction is calculated at 60% by Simpson’s biplane (last time 67%)
Left ventricle Mass (ASE) index increased to 79 g/m2 (16% increase)
Lateral increase in early diastolic velocity of the mitral annulus from 8.8 to 31.2, (threshold is 15)
Left ventricle filling pressure increase, E/E’ Average was 9.2, is now 20.5.
Hmmm…That all sounds bad. But then Chat GTP talked me down off the wall. Changes, yes, but tipping point? Maybe not:
“In the 6.5 month interval, you see your:
• Ejection fraction drop from normal to low normal
• New left atrium enlargement, along with left ventricle mass and dilation increase
• New pulmonary vein flow reversal and enlarged aortic root
It feels like a tipping point.
But physiologically, this still fits within:
Moderate chronic mitral valve regurgitation, with progressive remodeling due to chronic volume overload.
Your cardiologist might:
• Repeat echo in 6 months instead of 12
• Consider cardiac MRI if quantification is uncertain
• Track left ventricle end-systolic dimension carefully.”
Nothing left to do but wait, lower my stress, and stop googling.
Deep thoughts today.
Someone once told me that empathy, which is “The ability to understand and share the feelings of another,” was technically not possible, and they are correct. We honestly cannot climb into the mind/body of another and share what they truly feel.
However, we do understand similar experiences, and we share their feeling through our own lens of feelings and experiences. Even when we lack a similar experience, we can feel similar grief and pain for them, amidst the onslaught of life changing events, because maybe we have experienced grief and pain of a different type before, with grief and pain being the common denominator. We do not have to exactly feel what they feel to have empathy, because we understand it and feel it through our own experiences and feelings on their behalf.
It can be important to make the distinction, however, between someone else’s feelings and our own, when it comes to negativity directed at us. We do NOT have to exactly feel what they feel, but we can understand it and feel it based our own experience on their behalf, thanks to what they have directed at us. But this is not sharing feelings in a good way, if their feelings are negative. When someone has lashed out and criticized us, we may be left feeling every sharp word directed at us, taking on what we assume are their feelings about us, and believing them, for hours or even days afterwards.
(But if you can, take a moment to reflect that you do not have to take on the burden of how they feel about you. First of all, maybe they are mistaken. Maybe what they said about you was actually more about them, not about you at all, even though it feels otherwise).
But I have not been good at NOT taking on those emotional burdens. I cannot seem to make myself “grow thick skin” or “just stop caring.” It feels as though I am just wired for this sensitivity, no matter how much I try to “grow out of it.” And people in my life not supporting me in this “extra” sensitivity I have, basically invalidating my experiences at times, seem to have made it worse!
In fact, I recently had an excellent discussion with my sister-in-law, as she watches her daughter struggling with “something the girls said at school” about her. Lordy, I remember those days! Girls, mean girls, pre-teen and teen years, school, high school, wow, I sure would NOT want to relive any of that. And yet 55-year-old me can still struggle with letting things people say bother me intensely.
I write this out NOT because I have been recently criticized, or anything like that, but because I have been self-criticizing lately, and it has gotten worse this last week. I am in a tug of war with myself, emotional me versus rational me. And I keep giving myself shit for having this type of battle in the first place! But I recognize constantly berating myself for my own perceived flaws or weaknesses (can I just grow some thicker skin already!) is really damaging to my self esteem.
And because of this bad habit of directing criticism inward, and invalidating myself, I really connected with this:
And I know my niece, also experiences this RSD, because she is being exposed to some of the same people that I grew up with (same family of origin, of course), who tend to be outwardly critical of others. In fact, when my sister-in-law tells me about certain interactions, I tend to feel validated, “Hey, that sounds just like when I was growing up, so I guess I am remembering my childhood correctly after all…”
But I ended up making this very important distinction for myself:
The rejection sensitivity I have is mostly with people who have a history of criticizing me, (or I have perceived their words as criticism, constructive or not), which has created a foundation of insecurity in that particular relationship.
The overall structural foundation of specific relationships is very key in my rejection sensitivity problem. I do not have it with everyone, just with select people based on the foundation of my relationship with them, or at other times with other people when I feel especially vulnerable.
I have been feeling extremely vulnerable in the last few months, but I am hoping “this too shall pass” and I will soon start to feel better and stronger emotionally. All I can do is keep working on it (and blogging about it helps) and continue to NOT turn to food to stuff these feelings down.
I always thought that I would “magically” be a different person if I lost weight. And yes, there is the before picture—that person who inhabited that body—and the after picture—that person inhabiting a body that now looks different.
Spoiler alert, it’s the same person.
Same person with the same brain, same thoughts, same insecurities. If you let it be.
We went out for Valentine’s Day, and I wore a new dress I had purchased (after our unexpected trip to Kelowna in January to drop off our truck for insurance repair following the sheet of ice smashing up our frontend while passing a commercial truck on the highway). I have always loved dresses with a Chinese-style and neckline, even though I never wore them out in public. In fact, I had finally donated my last two Chinese-style dresses during a closet purge about a year ago, knowing I would never wear them. Then I saw this dress at a thrift store, which had the Chinese-style neckline, but beyond that was more of a cultural mash up with its cut and fabric. I could not resist buying it.
But I keep looking at the pictures because I still don’t recognize myself. You know, part of me has never recognized myself. Growing up, my mom actually told me she thought I was vain, because I spent so much time looking in the mirror. I even remember taking my grade 12 provincial examination for English, and choosing the topic “Face in the Mirror” as my narrative essay. I don’t remember what I wrote in that essay, but it was something to do with not recognizing the other “self” that I always saw there.
Some would say “mirror checking” is a common symptom of having eating disorder-related body dysmorphia, (and/or appearance-related ritualistic or repetitive behavior). And I acknowledge that could be some of my problem.
The other part is just consistently feeling “out of body.” Disconnected. Too in my head/mind, moving through life going through all the motions of daily living, documenting events (like my husband taking my picture on Valentine’s Day when I left the table for the rest room). But then stepping outside myself and later looking at the pictures and events as thought I am watching someone else’s story unfold, and wondering who was that—there—in that moment.
Who knows what has brought on such a weird series of thoughts this morning! I was going to do our personal taxes, but then I found out the online filing date with the government does not open until February 23, resulting in a “Now what do I do…maybe I will blog.”
Maybe it’s that I am turning 55-years old in 2 weeks and I am still trying to figure out “Who am I?”
Maybe I just have too much time on my hands.
I don’t always make a big deal about Valentine’s Day, but this morning I feel inspired.
Because my dog loves my husband more than me.
And I think my cat might as well.
Animals are usually very good judges of character, and it is no exception in our home. We have had a number of pets in the 35 years we’ve been married, (I wish we did not ever have to outlive a pet, but sadly, that is just the way they were divinely designed). Our senior dog Bo came to the end of his journey in 2019, but we knew his end was near and were very lucky, (divinely lucky, in my opinion), that my nephew’s family had just had a litter of kittens. My great-niece was visiting him up north that summer, and it was perfect timing that when she was coming back home to the south, and she could bring us one of the kittens.
My husband picked her picture out of the group of kittens because she had 2 different colored eyes. We didn’t even know at first whether she was a boy or a girl, just that she was the one he was sure he wanted. Even though someone else had already spoken for her, for that unique feature, my nephew instead let us have her because we are family, after all. It turns out that feature made her congenitally deaf, but we could not love her more, and just take precautions when letting her outside.
Presley, born June 7, 2019, arrived at just 8 weeks old on August 2, and we lost our Bo on August 10. In my grief, the next day I felt very desperate, we have always had a dog, and a new kitten could only distract us from our pain to a point. I started searching online. Despite the possibilities of a story that begins with “I started searching online” having a disastrous outcome, I ending up finding a litter of half Jack Russell half Rat Terriers that a wonderful lady had bred herself in her home, not as a back yard breeder, but from her own 2 beloved personal pets. They had been born August 2, the day kitty came. In the picture, I could see that one of them had markings just like Bo, and like kitty, I did not even know if they were a boy or a girl, just that I was sure they were the one I wanted.
And that is how we came to have our 2 girls, Presley and Ripley, both Friday babies, born exactly 8 weeks apart.
And even though most of our pets seemed to have loved us equally, or maybe seemed to love me more even, as I am the one to most often fill their food bowl, both our girls seem to love my husband more than they love me. That actually makes me look at him with renewed love, seeing him through their adoring eyes.
Happy Valentine’s Day to all my loves.
I have been enjoying skating again, very much. I fell yesterday, “Toe pick!” but if you ever watched the film “The Cutting Edge,” you know that sure, falling is never fun, but if you are already in motion, you end up sliding on the ice after you go down, which actually disperses some of the impact. So, I didn’t break anything, just a bruise or 2. #worththeriskevenwithosteoporosis.
Having hEDS means my skin is highly sensitive. “This increased sensitivity is a recognized, though not always emphasized, symptom that can manifest as pain, discomfort, or an exaggerated reaction to light, touch, or textures.” —Google. I used to think my sensitivity was one of my slightly neurodivergent traits, but it is nice to know it’s not just “all in my head.” Honestly, it almost always takes me more than one try to put on a pair of shoes, because if I don’t get the seam of my sock just right, then it will bug me to distraction.
Also, I do not have very thick skin, literally and figuratively. Literally, my skin is quite thin and translucent in certain areas, back of the hands, top of my feet, inside of my arms, so that all my veins are highly visible. Figuratively, because I am very sensitive to criticism and feeling as though I may not be believed, especially when it comes to whether something “hurts” or not. Pain is very individual and subjective, but sadly, not being believed by doctors does happen to a certain amount of patients. And my mom, who has a very high pain tolerance and forgoes freezing at the dentist for a filling, is fond of saying, “It doesn’t hurt, you only think it does.” I have to remind her she is the exception, not the rule, and I was NOT gifted with that particular high tolerance gene.
Interestingly, having a public blog actually opens me up to criticism, but I love this narrative space despite the risk. I try to be a nice person, word my posts in a manner to reflect my true nature as someone who is open to all sides of an argument, and not one to be judgmental. I am more interested in learning new things, not in trying to change anyone’s mind. But regardless, not everyone is going to like me, or what I have to say. I’ve often thought it is only a matter of time until someone out in cyberspace calls me a drama queen, especially now that I have been complaining (but actually intending to simply validate myself, not necessarily complain) about recently diagnoses and “issues with my tissues.” BUT! Thankfully, in the 15 years I’ve had this small little blog, (started in 2011 first for my creative writing, then expanded in 2019 to include my dieting health journey), I have never received a negative comment. Personally, I really love the WordPress community, and I am grateful for people who post regularly, and even those that don’t. I love people who share their stories.
I cover all this personal back story because I found myself yesterday, on February 9, taking a picture of the remaining pink circle on my chest. Sunday night, I felt a faint burning sensation in 2 of the spots that started as hives 3 weeks ago, but nothing was visible to the naked eye. Then yesterday morning, the burning sensation was gone, but the other 3 spots were still itchy. One of them was pink, so I took a picture. I am still experiencing on and off digestive discomfort as well. Ug! Talk about sensitive! 3 weeks later, and I still need to take allergy medication. After the spots faded significantly in the first week, I discontinued the prescription steroid cream. I only use that stuff sparingly, as it is quite strong, especially considering my sensitivity. I am just taking the Allegra, when I experience a symptom.
But then I asked myself, why are you taking a picture of that 1 barely visible spot?? Because unless I have “proof,” I fear I won’t be believed that I am STILL having this reaction.
I second guess myself, and this recent reaction (with a 6-week gap between exposure and slight reaction, and then my huge reaction which erupted January 20) is so bizarre, it has really triggered my feelings of “I may not be believed.” I am not taking a picture to convince anyone else. Nope, the picture is just for me.
I know this is routed in childhood experiences, and medical trauma when real pain and fear of injury is not believed, (for example, an impacted wisdom tooth to which local anesthetic had not yet fully taken hold, the fact of which was initially dismissed by the oral surgeon I was trusting to extract it). As I typed this, I felt the urge to declare, “I have the x-ray of the impacted wisdom tooth if you don’t believe me,” and post a picture! Except, no one is saying they don’t believe me, except me. I am the only one here, in this space, saying that. But second guessing myself like this constantly, always seeking to provide “proof,” it is particularly bad for my own self esteem.
Sigh. I am recognizing this behavior, and I am working on being kinder to myself.
The Bio Joy Diet 