Thursday, March 7, 2013

this blog is about poop.

I found out yesterday that I have IBS and maybe also Celiac disease. I fondly refer my condition as "the crazy poops." I've always had a wacky tummy. Things go in great, but after that, it's pretty much a free for all. As I understand it, instead of my intestines doing their work at a nice steady rhythm, they function irrationally. Kinda like those folks who clap on 1 and 3.

I saw this coming. Last summer I took a 30-day eat clean challenge in which I was banned from consuming dairy, soy, alcohol, sugar and grains. It was fun to learn new recipes and eat like a super healthy beast. And you know what? I actually enjoyed using the bathroom. I read books and played games on my phone instead of racing in and out of there like there was a monster hiding in my toilet.

After the challenge ended, I slowly went back to my old ways -- but in moderation. I've kept a cap on my dairy and gluten consumption because I know my belly hates those guys. But for the love of everything that is holy, I adore cheese. Bread is sexy. If someone told me that I could only eat two things for the rest of my life, it would be bread and cheese. The end. 

I sort of asked for this, though. Actually, I definitely asked for it. A couple of hours before I visited the doctor, I was participating in a teleseries offered by Handel Group. This month-long series, lead by Elena Brower, is for yoga practicioners who are seeking the tools needed to realize their dreams and goals. In this first course, I was asked to write down three dreams for myself, in the present tense. I choose three different areas: career, food and romantic relationships. 

Guess what I said about food? 

"I eat smart. I love cooking healthy meals. My relationship with food is happy and nurturing. I see it as a source of energy and a gift."

Three hours later I was told I'd need to change my relationship with food. Big time. 

So, here we go. Time to figure out my triggers. Time to revamp the way I view food and how it fits into my life. While I'm mourning the likely loss of dairy and probable minimizing of gluten, I am pretty excited to like pooping. That'll be nice. 

Thursday, February 21, 2013

ga'head. get angry.

Yup. You heard me, boo. Get pissed. Cry. Let your blood pressure rise. Swear a bunch. Scream into a pillow. Call a friend and freak the eff out (maybe ask permission first, because other people have lives too, you know).

This is my angry face. #adorbs

Yeah. Come on. Get mad. That idiot at work? That guy who keeps jerking you around? That girlfriend who hurt your feelings? That big world problem that seems to be hopelessly tragic and awful? Get angry.

You've heard it before. You must have the darkness in order to see the light. Obvees, I'm not telling you to get angry at every little thing. Also, if you have anger management issues, this blog probs isn't for you. Sorry, sweets.

But still, if that frustration and hurt is bubbling up inside you due to whatever circumstances -- internal, external, old or new -- let it fill you for a minute. Anger wouldn't exist if we weren't supposed to experience it. It's actually healthy to get pissed at things.

But as soon as you give it space to grow, you have to explore it.

Yeah. Sorry. There's a catch. Ask yourself why you're angry. Talk it out with yourself, out loud or on paper. Let the tears and frustration fill you.

Then take a super deep breath and ask yourself, "Well. What can I do about it?"

If your boss is being a jerk, you can't really tell them to stop. But you can look for a new job. You can tell yourself that, for your own health, you're not going to let him or her wear you down. As long as you can say you're doing your best -- well, then you're doing your best. Additionally, they could just be taking their ish out on you.

That brings up another point: don't take it out on other people. I don't want you to stuff it down and bury it, but try to work through it on your own or with a close pal who will listen, and let you talk it out with yourself. Splashing your poop storm up in someone's face is gross and rude. And it rarely every makes anything better.

So. Recap:

  1. You're mad. Yes. Be mad. Own it.
  2. Give yourself some time to breathe.
  3. Ask yourself, "What can I do about this?"
  4. If you can think of things, DO THEM. You'll feel better. Promise.
  5. If you can't think of things, that's okay. You will. 
  6. Finally, distract yourself. Go on a walk, watch a funny video, take a yoga class, read some celebrity gossip. Giving yourself a break will give you the space to come up with a few ideas.

But whatever you do, don't take it out on anyone else. Supes hard. But totes important.

It sounds way too simple kinda, yeah? If you can practice these steps, you will welcome oodles of happiness into your life. You will not stave off anger for life. But you'll learn how to play with it, how to use it properly and how to not hurt anyone else with it.

Also, did you get a hair[s] cut or something? You're looking extra fly today. Get it.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

emotional a.d.d.

It's a thing, y'all. I swurr.

Men and women are both susceptible to this remarkable condition. Young and old. Gay and straight and everything outside, inside, to the right and to the left (to the left).

I have been emotionally ADD for about three days now. It rules. No, it sucks. It's weird. It's amazing. I hate it. I love it.

You follow? K. So I decided to write down every emotion I've experienced so far today:

Horny (yeap)

Some of these are just shades or flavors of the other, but they all conjure up a different image or sensation in my physical being. My breath changes, my body temperature shifts, my desire to move, my desire to sleep, my motivation to work, to communicate, to anything, it is all affected by these feelings.

Cool thing is: feelings aren't real! I mean, they're a thing. I'm actually experiencing them. But if I can experience that many in a single day, doesn't that mean I can NOT experience them if I so choose? Answer: totes.

But how!? Not everyone has time just to drop their ish and go to a yoga class or abandon work or whatevs. I know I sure don't. I mean, I have plenty of time for Facebook and Twitter and Instagram and texting and blogging and cuddling Gary (my cat). But how could I possibly have time to take 60 seconds to focus on my breath? Pssshhhh.

See what I did there? We have time. All of us. Do it. Right now. Unless you're driving, in which case, WHY ARE YOU READING THIS, YOU CRAY FOO!? Set the alarm on your phone and close your eyes and see how deep you can breathe in and how fully you can exhale. Send that breath into every corner of you. No peeking at the timer. When it dings, how do you feel? Different, yeah?


Also, you look super hot today. Winky face.