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THE LADY IN THE PURPLE HAT

By Erma Bombeck

Age 3: She looks at herself and sees a Queen.

Age 8: She looks at herself and sees Cinderella.

Age 15: She looks at herself and sees an Ugly Sister (Mum I can’t go to school looking like this!)

Age 20: She looks at herself and sees “too fat/too thin, too short/too tall, too straight/too curly”- but decides she’s going out anyway.

Age 30: She looks at herself and sees “too fat/too thin, too short/too tall, too straight/too curly” – but decides she doesn’t have time to fix it, so she’s going out anyway.

Age 40: She looks at herself and sees “clean” and goes out anyway.

Age 50: She looks at herself and sees “I am” and goes wherever she wants to go.

Age 60: She looks at herself and reminds herself of all the people who can’t even see themselves in the mirror anymore. Goes out and conquers the world.

Age 70: She looks at herself & sees wisdom, laughter and ability, goes out and enjoys life.

Age 80: Doesn’t bother to look. Just puts on a purple hat and goes out to have fun with the world.

AGONY AUNT: PHARMACOLOGICAL INTERACTIONS WITH MY RESTLESS LEGS SYNDROME

There are many of us out there who experience the agony of restless legs syndrome (RLS). There are also many of us who suffer from other mental and/or physical conditions. Finding solutions – both pharmacological and supplementary – that ease RLS concurrently with other conditions can be problematic. And I speak from personal experience.

I am just a layperson, but RLS seems to be a “dopamine-dependent disorder”. Which in layperson’s terms means dopamine is in short supply – ie. I need more of it. Medications that increase dopamine are called dopamine agonists.

This is all fine and dandy – until you require a medication that blocks dopamine. From personal experience, I have learned there is a long list of drugs that make my restless legs even more restless than normal.

Medications that aggravate my RLS

I have taken a long list of medications for genuine reasons. For the most part, I did not know the offending medication would exacerbate my restless legs. The correlation between RLS and medications is not always well known.

https://restlesslegssyndrome.sleep-disorders.net/living/medication-interactions/


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

INTO THE NIGHT: IMSONMIA 101

Insomnia – from the Latin insomnis, that translates to “not sleeping”: in meaning “no” and somnis meaning “sleep.”

I think that sums it up nicely – no sleep. If you’re an insomniac you know just what I’m talking about – no sleep. If you’re not an insomniac you can only imagine – because you do sleep.

Apparently 10-15% of the general population suffers from chronic insomnia, which is defined as

inadequate quantity or quality of sleep characterized by a subjective report of difficulty with sleep initiation, duration, consolidation, or quality that occurs despite adequate opportunity for sleep, and that results in some form of daytime impairment and has persisted for at least one month.

https://insomnia.sleep-disorders.net/living/into-night/


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

OH, WHAT A FEELING! THE SENSATIONS OF RESTLESS LEGS SYNDROME

Tiger beetles.

I think they win the prize for the best explanation of my restless legs syndrome (RLS). Moreso than any other description I’ve heard – so far. I can sense their long legs running aimlessly in circles around my lower limbs.

Fastest insects in the world

According to Britannica, there are about 2600 different species of tiger beetles. Which is about how many descriptions there are for the sensation of having bits of your body constantly squirming and ready for action.

https://restlesslegssyndrome.sleep-disorders.net/living/sensations-tiger-beetles/


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

THE EMBODIMENT OF ME

Today I watched the film Embrace again. It should be compulsory viewing and reminded me that if I can’t love the body I’m in right now, I won’t love the body I dream of having.

The perfect body is a perfect lie.

Learning to love your body as is, right now, at any size, is not an excuse to indulge in eating disorder behaviours. It’s about loving your body as it is, treating it with respect and learning to nourish and move your body for health and wellbeing, not for appearance or to please someone else.

I’ve dipped my finger in all the eating disorder pies and I confess, binge eating disorder feels like the poor cousin to anorexia. There’s so much more shame involved. For those of us with disordered thinking, anorexia might seem desirable – demonstrating self-control, persistence and strength of character. When it is in fact, a different brand of eating disorder. And they’re all dangerous. It takes enormous amounts of strength, energy and persistence to maintain any eating disorder – binge eating included.

While the body positivity movement has become very popular on social media, it’s yet to make its way into mainstream media. Our billboards, television screens and magazines are still all filled to the brim with unnaturally slim, extremely tall women, many of whom also feel uncomfortable in their own skin. And all of whom are photoshopped to within an inch of their life.

Who decided that tall, skinny waifs are the embodiment of beauty?

There are indigenous cultures around the world where curvy, larger women are the embodiment of beauty because they represent health, wealth and happiness. A woman’s appearance still shouldn’t equate acceptability, but skinny = happy is a western construct.

‘Fat’ is usually the first insult a girl throws at another girl when she wants to hurt her. I mean, is ‘fat’ really the worst thing a human being can be? Is ‘fat’ worse than ‘vindictive’, ‘jealous’, ‘shallow’, ‘vain’, ‘boring’ or ‘cruel’? I’ve got two daughters who will have to make their way in this skinny-obsessed world, and … I don’t want them to be empty-headed, self-obsessed, emaciated clones; I’d rather they were independent, interesting, idealistic, kind, opinionated, original, funny – a thousand things, before ‘thin’. And frankly, I’d rather they didn’t give a gust of stinking chihuahua flatulence whether the woman standing next to them has fleshier knees than they do.

JK Rowling

Wouldn’t it be a wonderful utopia if women (and men) were judged on their curiosity, compassion and contributions, instead of attributes that are largely founded in genetics, not character? I’d rather be surrounded by kindness than thinness and I don’t care how other people look. Do you? Yet my own disordered thinking precludes me from applying the same standard to myself.

There are people so disgusted with their own appearance they won’t go swimming with their children. Or hiking. Or have sex with their partner. Lives consumed with fear of judgment. A fear we’ve learned through our nearest and dearest, random comments from acquaintances, colleagues and strangers, and a media saturation that even the most astute of us cannot help but see.

We don’t see ourselves reflected in the glossy pages of a magazine. We see an impossible standard created by advertising agencies and a multitude of industries: fashion, weight loss, pharmaceutical, cosmetic surgery and beauty. The creation of non-existent problems for corporate greed. Yet here we are – so many of us caught up in a web of lies, damaging our mental and physical health for the illusion of an irrelevant construct.

Here are some (American) statistics for those into numbers – courtesy of the body image center.

  • 50% of women engage in unhealthy behaviours to control weight
  • 70% of women aged 18-30 don’t like their body
  • 43% of men are dissatisfied with their bodies
  • 81% of ten-year-olds are afraid of being fat
  • 30 million people will experience an eating disorder in their lifetime
  • 89% of girls have dieted by age 17
  • The death rate for women with eating disorders is 12 times higher than women of similar ages
  • 1000 women die each year from eating disorder complications: malnutrition, heart attack and suicide

And here’s a statistic none of us want to hear: 95% of diets fail.

I’m getting cranky now.

I’ve been caught in a web of self-hatred since before I toddled on wobbly little legs. My body isn’t acceptable and 50+ years of rejecting myself is not easily transformed. Body acceptance doesn’t mean eating badly and sinking into the couch for the foreseeable future. It’s about nourishing your body, moving your body, staying healthy and accepting the size you are.

It’s easy to mouth on about the importance of loving ourselves at any size – with all the lumps and bumps and skin imperfections, scars and wrinkles and cellulite and crooked, uneven bits. All the things so many of us are concerned about. I don’t want to be consumed by a shallow obsession with how I look, so I put on my big girl pants (literally) and took photos of myself in underwear. (I didn’t have the courage to go completely nude). Initially, I wanted to wait until I’d lost weight – I’m the heaviest I’ve been for a long time. But then that defeats my whole argument about, “as is right now”.

I spent a lot of time running back and forth to my iPhone to press the 10-second delay on the button that snaps a photo. And now you can see the result. I’ve ummed and ahhed for many days about using these photos. I don’t even want to show them to my husband. But it’s hard to mouth on about the importance of body image acceptance without putting my money where my mouth is.

So here we are. I have no doubt some people will look at the photos and be horrified. Others will think it’s fine. I have no control over other people’s reactions. All I can do is continue to take steps towards healing my disordered thinking and behaviours. And body image is a core issue in my eating disorder.

ONE GIANT LEAP FOR MANKIND

The scarecrow wanted a brain. The tin man a heart. And the lion – well he lacked courage.

If your brain malfunctions, stigma abounds, while physical maladies are considered acceptable and worthy of attention. A lot of people find mental illness confronting. And somehow that confrontingness (not a real word) is considered acceptable in a way that would not be okay if I studiously avoided someone with eczema. Trying to tell people that mental health is stigmatised by society in general, is like trying to fly to the moon. It’s cold, lonely and damn near impossible.

It takes courage to navigate the land of physical and mental illness – equal courage. In the physical world, if you develop a diagnosable (or non-diagnosable) condition, life changes as you adapt to a new normal. But for the most part, there is acceptance. When it comes to mental illness, the perception remains that it is a choice and therefore does not warrant the same level of care and concern. Sometimes it just elicits frustration or annoyance.

Ill health is never a choice

People with no diagnosed mental illness will never understand the stigma. They never will because they don’t have a diagnosis. And yet everyone experiences poor mental health at some stage – depression and anxiety being the big two. And there are things you just don’t say to anybody going through mental health issues – be they short or long term.

Do you remember the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz?

I would not be just a muffin’,
My head all full of stuffin’,
My heart all full of pain;
And perhaps I’d deserve you and be
Even worthy of you
If I only had a brain

“My head all full stuffin’ and my heart all full of pain.” That’s what it feels like. Having mental illness means I’m considered faulty by people who don’t even realise they’ve judged me. Everything I say or do falls back on being “not normal”. Not just someone overwhelmed with stress. Or exhausted from lack of sleep. Not someone who made a mistake or a unique individual wandering through life with all the rest of the unique individuals. Now I’m someone with mental health issues and everything I say or do is coloured by that label. Depressed, anxious, bipolar, borderline, hypersensitive, emotionally reactive. Eating disorder. Sleep disorder. I’m labels. I’m not just me. Everything about me is considered disordered and I’m no longer treated the way I was five years ago when I was just a “normal” person struggling with too much stress.

And it pisses me off

Sure – I have bad days (don’t you?)

Sure – I get stressed about things (don’t you?)

Sure – there are times when I don’t cope (don’t you?)

Yes – I have an eating disorder and a sleep disorder (you probably don’t) and my way of reacting to the world is unique to me. But you’re unique too. Do you have issues I don’t have? Are you prone to drinking too much? Do you have anger issues? Are you a workaholic? Are you technophobic? Do you struggle to navigate a car? Are you tone deaf? We all have issues. Some issues are bigger than others but mental illness is the one that is stigmatised. If you haven’t collapsed into a heap and laid your life wide open for everyone to have an opinion about, then you don’t know whether or not there’s stigma.

Men don’t understand menstruation. They never will because they don’t menstruate

This is what anyone in a minority routinely experiences – people don’t understand.

Imagine you’ve just reached the top of a mountain and then as you descend, you slip and break your ankle. (I can imagine this because I did it). How long would you walk on that ankle before you give in, accept defeat and sit down? Five minutes? Thirty minutes? Two hours? A whole day?

Imagine your psychological pain is as bad as your broken ankle. How long do you ride it out? Five days? Thirty days? Two months? A whole year? How long do you live through that pain before you give in, accept defeat and sit down? What does sitting down look like? It’s different for everyone but for a small number of us, accepting defeat results in a suicide attempt. Is that a great idea? Of course not. Does it solve the problem? No. Does it seem like there is absolutely no other solution at the time? Yes. Does that mean I haven’t sought support – both personal and professional? Of course I’ve sought support. But it has limitations – it doesn’t take away the problem or the pain. There’s no morphine or plaster casts for a broken soul. There’s only time and a loving circle of people from near and far, to help you search for a new dawn that is promised but can’t be seen.

Let me tell you what it’s like to RECEIVE a mental health diagnosis

It can be a relief – because suddenly you understand why you can’t cope. It can be a relief because now there are treatment options – pharmacological, psychological, or supplementary. It can be frightening because now you’ve lost your identity and you’re not the person you thought you were. It can make you second guess everything you say, do and think. It can be distressing if you’re on medication because now you have a heap of medications that really suck – primarily because a lot of them cause weight gain and there aren’t many people out there who feel comfortable with that. It can be lonely because now your friends and family don’t understand and they start second-guessing everything you’ve ever said or done and relabelling it with your diagnosis. It can be humiliating because now you’ve been labeled.

Like everything in life, there are exceptions to the rule. Of course, there are people who do not stigmatise mental health. Of course, there are people who are stigmatised for their physical health. But for the most part, society deems it acceptable to be physically ill but not mentally ill. And that is doing us all a huge disservice. Rejecting and overcoming stigma would be one giant leap for mankind.