THE WEARINESS OF FATIGUE IS MORE THAN FEELING TIRED

Today I want to sleep.

I want to go to sleep and never wake up. To luxuriate in the endless bliss of nothingness as my relentlessly restless body sinks into a sensuous, soft stillness. I want to be free from the physical pain that comes with a body that never stays still – not even for a moment. I want to be free from the exhaustion of endless nights filled with wide-eyed wakefulness. I don’t want to feel worried or anxious or guilty or afraid anymore. I don’t want to feel fat and old and lost and weary. I just want to rest. To experience the mysteries of an elusive, blissful rest.

My body is tired. I am fit and well. But I am physically exhausted. There is no reason. It just is.

My soul is tired. There is no reason. It just is.

To continue reading please visit:

https://restlesslegssyndrome.sleep-disorders.net/living/weariness-fatigue/

Image and links courtesy of Health Union and restlegssyndrome.sleep-disorders.net

HOPES & DREAMS

Life is filled with moments where we hope. And where we dream. Hope is believing things will change one day, while dreams are made of moments that start right now. It may sound like semantics, but I have learned to be wary of hope and embrace dreams.

This photo is my mother when she was a teenager. Her face looks full of hope for all that the future will hold. Yet her life became filled with so much sadness and she struggled to come to terms with the grief cast upon her. Her hope for a better life often cost her joy in the moment and many dreams remained unfulfilled.

There are loads of acronyms for hope:

• Hold On Pain Ends
• Have Only Positive Expectations
• Heart Open Please Enter
• Having Outward Positive Vision
• Hold On Pray Everyday

I’m sure we could all make up some more – but that’s not really my point. My point is that hope is holding onto things you want in the future and losing sight of the present.

For five years it felt like my life was hidden behind a veil of darkness and all the hoping in the world could not tear a thread in the fabric. My belief in a better future was almost impossible and my dreams non-existent.

Sometimes that whisper of hope is the only thing left – and at that point, I cling to it like a koala on a tree branch. When pain – physical or psychological – is unbearable, I have to believe that things will change. But my life is not always that dark. Sometimes I hope for the uncontrollable – a green traffic light, a sunny day, a flat tummy. Hope denies my ability to accept the things I cannot change.

I wrote about hope three years ago and I was so enthusiastic. I was hopeful things would change. But it turns out my life got a lot worse before it turned around and holding onto the belief things would be better in the future, kept me stuck in the misery of here and now.

When my life is going along quite nicely – as it has been for a while – hope keeps me focused on the future and wishing things were different. Hope is so painful. No matter how well I am and how good things are right now, there are always things I hope could be different. And that hope leaves me in floods of tears every time. I’ll be happy when this happens. My life will be better when that happens. But what about right now?

HOPE IS INVESTING HAPPINESS IN THE FUTURE

There is an expectation with hope that the thing you want will come true, and until that thing happens you can’t be happy. Dreams on the other hand – dreams are beautiful things. I dream when I’m happy and those dreams fill my heart with joy at the imaginings of another time, place and situation. But they don’t let go of the present moment. I can believe in the possibility of that dream coming true but invest none of my current happiness in that future expectation.

It can be fun to wish upon the stars and I think we all know when our dreams are practical and when they’re fanciful. It is the practical dreams I am talking about – getting a job, recovering from ill health, starting a business, reconnecting with lost loved ones. Recovering from depression, anxiety, self-harm, suicidal ideation and eating disorders. I have dreamed of these things for so long and I spent many a day hoping things would be different. Then one day I stopped hoping and started doing. From that point, my dreams burst into bubbles of reality. And they continue to do so. I am still building more dreams and I’m still trying not to hope. Life is always a work in progress.

When I hope, I do nothing. I just wish things were different.

When I dream, I do something. I try and make things different.

THAT IS THE DIFFERENCE FOR ME.

If I want happiness right this minute I need to look for it in the here and now – not just hope that things get better. Not just hope that pain ends. When the pain is overwhelming, hope is all I have. But when the pain gets better, I start dreaming of the things I want and invest my energies into making them happen. Dreams allow me the opportunity to picture a different future but make changes in the present to move towards the goal. Dreams are goal-driven and if there’s one thing modern psychology wants to teach us, it’s that we need SMART goals.

There are still things I hope are different – they are the things I cannot control and I wish upon a nightly star that they could change. But wallowing in that hope is miserable.

There are things I dream about and they are the things I can change. Taking a step towards those dreams brings me serenity now. They are the quiet footsteps that bring me peace in the moment.

LONG IN THE TOOTH

Not so long ago, I needed to go to the dentist. It was a highly traumatic experience.

With the level of trauma, you’d think perhaps I had a root canal, tooth extraction or dental implant. But no – it was a checkup. And it took me several days to recover from the experience.

I left the dental practice in a state of shock, my anxiety through the roof and my body shaking for hours. For real. I had super clean teeth, a pounding heart and many sleepless nights before I stopped reliving the experience.

Before I go any further, I’d like to point out that the dentist was a perfectly nice man and very good at his job. So my level of trauma was about me, not him.

I have been blessed with very good teeth – and for that I am very grateful.

THANK YOU GRANDMA!

Consequently, over the decades my dental visits have been few and far between. But each year (or every other year…) when I go for my annual (or not so annual…) checkup, it feels worse than the last time. There’s something about becoming a middle-aged woman that makes dental experiences almost intolerable.

In fact, a lot of middle-aged experiences seem to be increasingly intolerable – television violence, screaming children and the inevitability of the aging body with its hairy chin, increased flatulence and flabby mons pubis. But the alternative to aging is of course, not so pleasant. I digress…

After my recent checkup, I needed a filling. It is decades since I’ve had a filling and given the associated trauma with the check and clean I figured drugs were going to be necessary to survive the procedure. It turns out, however, that having a filling is infinitely less distressing than having a checkup.

THERE’S A LOT LESS VIBRATION INVOLVED

The trouble with the checkup is the dentist cleans my teeth with some fancy swirly scratchy thing. This is not to say I don’t clean them myself on a regular (twice daily) basis. But for reasons known only to the dentist, he does a better job than me and part of the “service” is to give them an extra intensive scrub.

I don’t like it. It vibrates my skull until it seems like my teeth will actually fall out. I am constantly trying not to gag on my own saliva. And there’s continuous fear and apprehension that a nerve ending is about to be hit. God forbid if there is a sliver of exposed nerve ending because that is spine-chillingly unpleasant. My fingernails dig into the sweaty vinyl chair in anticipation of the shock.

My filling itself required a lot less vibration in a lot fewer teeth. There was a lot of pushing and prodding but with the assistance of a Valium before the procedure, I got through with no mental anguish.

I AM NOT BRAVE

I have never claimed to be in the least bit brave and I have no shame in my cowardice. I’m sure there are things I’m good at, but being stoic is not one of them. Inwardly I complain. A lot.

I will never again attend a dental check-up without pharmaceutical support to relax me through the process. With Valium onboard, I dissociated myself as much as possible and went off to warm, sunny Thailand. Where I tried to have a lovely time – right up until the dentist asked me a question. Why do they do that? We all know you can’t answer a question with a mouthful of cotton wool and dentist fingers.

But in between questions I managed to sever my conscious link with the sticky chair, ugly sunglasses and rubber gloves, then pretend I was anywhere but the dentist’s office. I can’t seem to do that without the assistance of drugs.

I NOW HAVE LOVELY CLEAN TEETH, A BRAND NEW FILLING AND A REINVIGORATED FEAR OF DENTISTS

I don’t recall ever having this level of anxiety about dental visits and thank goodness I don’t have to go back for at least a year. I am very grateful I have – so far – had very little need of anything more complex than a filling and they have been few and far between. I now see the great attraction for young women in the 1940s to have all their healthy teeth removed and replaced with shiny white dentures.

For now, I am happy I can cheerfully bite down on a crunchy carrot without fear of dental repercussions. But I do confess that a year from now, when faced with the reality of yet another checkup, I will be seeking out some pharmacological support before the big day. See you in Thailand.

Image courtesy of instagram.com/eurosaurus/

EATING DISORDER RECOVERY: KEY EIGHT

There is a very good book called 8 Keys to Recovery From an Eating Disorder by Carolyn Costin and Gwen Schubert Grabb. I have started the keys on numerous occasions in the past, but now I feel completely ready to tackle them all. There are multiple writing exercises within each key, so without giving away the entire contents of the book, over the course of eight weeks I want to share my recovery journey with you. The following is a composite of all my answers for this key.

FINDING MEANING AND PURPOSE

Women turn to food when they are not hungry because they are hungry for something they can’t name.

Geneen Roth

I want to quote the entire chapter for this key. It’s compulsory reading for anyone wanting to better themselves. But I shall endeavour to uncover the key lessons for me.

According to the authors, the first seven keys are about recovering ‘from’ and this key is about recovering ‘to’. The focus is on searching for our spiritual and soulful side – which can sound like mumbo jumbo without a willingness to be open-minded. I’m applying my willingness.

Cultural anthropologist, Dr Arrien, studied the wisdom of tribal cultures and came up with four fundamental principles for living… Show Up, Pay Attention, Tell the Truth Without Judgment, and Don’t Be Attached to the Results.

Showing up means bringing your mind along with your body. My body turns up to all sorts of things – work, appointments, gym, social outings. But is my mind there? Can I commit heart and soul to the moment? To being aware, honest and connecting to the experience – be it good or bad.

THE AUTHORS SEPARATE EGO FROM SOUL-SELF

Ego is personal identity – I am a mother, a teacher, a writer. I am fat, ugly, purposeless. I am kind, capable, worthy. My ego names me many things, often with judgment. Soul self lies beneath these things and is fundamentally who I am when external identities disappear. Soul self says, “I am” without qualifiers. Without saying I’m this or that. It is unquantifiable. Not critical or judgmental. It searches for meaning and connection and notices what is valuable in the moment. It isn’t concerned with a cultural emphasis on materialism or technology.

Ego wants to binge, starve, purge, cut, numb, disappear. The soul just accepts what is.

An elder was talking to his grandson about how he felt about a past tragedy. The elder said, ‘I feel as if I have two wolves fighting in my heart. One wolf is a vengeful, angry, violent one; the other wolf is a loving, compassionate one.’ And the grandson asked, ‘Which one will win the fight in your heart?’ And the elder answered, ‘The one I feed’.

Native American Story

I have been feeding the self-pitying, judgmental, fearful wolf. I need to feed the loving, compassionate, kind wolf. What do your wolves look like?

Paying attention is being mindful to the moment and noticing where your focus goes. My focus – even with all this work on eating disorder recovery – still drifts towards an obsession with food and body image. It’s getting better, but a magical cure in the space of eight weeks isn’t the goal. Where thoughts go, energy follows.

THOUGHTS CREATE FEELINGS WHICH LEAD TO BEHAVIOURS

To change behaviour means changing thoughts. Paying attention to what is meaningful in the long term. I’ve been coming to terms with grief for the last couple of months. It isn’t easy and my daily thought processes drift to what-ifs. Looking at a string of regrets and sadness. But allowing my attention to stay focused in the past robs me of my present. Writing this blog post today is paying attention to the moment and setting goals for the future. It’s pouring energy into something meaningful. Seeing the value in the invisible things I take for granted – good health, supportive relationships, material comfort.

THERE ARE MOMENTS IN TIME THAT HAVE BEEN BEYOND WORDS FOR ME

Moments filled with awe, reverence, love, connection, peace, serenity. Holding my babies for the first time, the look in my husband’s eyes as we got married, hugging my cat when I’ve been consumed by sadness, soaking in the view at the top of a mountain, performing on stage, singing in a choir, diving into a cold ocean on a hot day, sitting on a rock sharing life with my soul-buddy.

My life has been blessed with countless soul moments. If I take focus away from my dimply arse and dig deeper into the beauty around me, there’s less time for obsession and more time for wonder. Today I’m sitting in the sun, writing, with my cat curled up at my feet and awaiting the delivery of a long-awaited new bath. Today I can feed my body when it’s hungry and allow grief to flow through me as needed then make time for the things that are important.

The next writing assignment in the book is about describing a sunrise or apple in intricate detail, without judgment or criticism. Just observation of what is. For the sake of brevity, I’ll share a writing exercise from years ago. To study my face in detail. It was so confronting I cried.

The third guiding principle is truth without judgment. This is a very fine way to live. Sharing truth with judgment is criticism – sometimes to others and sometimes to ourselves. I grew up in a highly critical environment, married a highly critical man and have met a lot of highly critical people. I internalise this then continuously criticise and berate myself. And it’s with no sense of pride I admit to being critical of others at times. It’s something I’ve always worked really hard not to do. When hurt or bewildered by someone’s actions I make a conscious effort to see another point of view. To see the hurt behind the anger, the fear behind the tears.

WE ALL HAVE A STORY AND WE’RE ALL HURTING

I don’t always get it right but I try really hard. I never apply it to myself. My mother’s voice rings loud and clear in my head in every vulnerable moment: ‘Not Good Enough’. Truth without judgment is a DBT principle – and a very good one. It doesn’t deny reality or insist on accepting the unacceptable. It’s merely an observation of reality and reflecting back how we feel without making accusations. It’s the golden rule for arguing with someone – say how you feel without attacking. ‘I feel hurt,’ is very different to, ‘What you did was mean.’ It’s subtle – but the emphasis is on my feelings not someone else’s actions. This is easy to do on paper but isn’t always instinctive in reality. Like so many things, I’m a work in progress.

There are only two ways to deal with something: acceptance or resistance.

How true is that?! Not being attached to the results is radical acceptance. Sure I want winning lotto numbers, but if they’re not (they never are) then bemoaning the fact is pointless. Life is filled with moments that require radical acceptance. Traffic, weather, rude people at the checkout, grief, vomiting, career disappointments, relationship difficulties, mistakes, age, body shape and size. I could write an enormous list of things to just accept. They can’t be changed. Or if they can, it will be a slow process and that process needs to be accepted.

WITH A PROFOUND SENSE OF ACCOMPLISMENT, I’VE FINISHED ALL EIGHT KEYS

I don’t know if my musings are interesting reading but it was an interesting experience. So much of the recovery path is based on DBT skills I learned in group sessions, which all relate back to four things: Distress Tolerance, Emotional Regulation, Interpersonal Skills and Mindfulness. Now I can add four guiding principles to my way of interacting with the world: Show Up, Pay Attention, Tell the Truth Without Judgment and Don’t Be Attached to the Results.

My life has been a roller coaster. Whether it should or shouldn’t have been is irrelevant. It is what it is. It’s time I took charge of the ride.

AGING WITH RLS: THE LADY IN THE PURPLE HAT

We’re all getting older. This is a shared human experience – whether we want it or not. Caring for my grandmother as she gently floated to the magnificent age of 98 and two thirds, I became aware that older people seem to be more exaggerated versions of their younger selves.

If they were generous, the generosity blossomed. If they were bitter, the bitterness thrived. But the same was true for physical ailments – creaky knees needed more oiling, labouring lungs needed more inflation. I believe the same is true for restless legs syndrome (RLS). Aging does us no favours when it comes to twitchy legs.

Aging with RLS

There is a beautiful piece of prose called “The Lady in the Purple Hat” by Erma Bombeck, which eloquently describes the evolution of body image and aging in women. But I think with a little bit of over-generalisation, it can be adapted for RLS – for men and women alike.

To continue reading please visit:

https://restlesslegssyndrome.sleep-disorders.net/living/aging/

Image and links courtesy of Health Union and restlegssyndrome.sleep-disorders.net

GOING MENTAL: THE IMPACT OF INSOMNIA ON MY MENTAL HEALTH

This is the story of a woman who went mad. Lack of sleep will do that to you. When I was a baby I didn’t sleep fantastically well. Things haven’t improved.

Sometimes my insomnia relates to restless legs syndrome.

Sometimes it relates to hyperarousal.

Sometimes insomnia just is. And it sucks.

Trying everything but finding no relief

I’ve tried to manage lack of sleep in every way known to womankind. I’ve done the hot baths and no caffeine, avoid anything entertaining before bed. None of it made a scrap of difference. I tried over-the-counter sleeping potions and melatonin (everybody tells me to try melatonin because they think it’s a magic cure for insomnia).

My sleep got worse – primarily because those things antagonise restless legs so I became even more tired and even less able to sleep. Not a great combination.

To continue reading please visit:

https://insomnia.sleep-disorders.net/living/mental-health-impact/

Image and links courtesy of Health Union and https://insomnia.sleep-disorders.net