Orange is my new color!

At the beginning of this year my color was black.  The cloud that followed me and the color I wore were both black.  At that time my future was even bleak and black as I view it.  My God had not forsaken me, I had pulled away from Him.  But things have changed. I listened to the tug on my heart to do something.  I took steps, not that I really was motivated in the beginning but because I knew deep down I was not a piece of junk.  Close but I had not thrown in the towel yet.

If you had told me then that I would be where I am today I maybe would have laughed!  More than not I would look at you like you were a fortune teller that didn't know me at all. I have always loved physical work, I didn't mind sweating.  Doing something important for a limited time, like building my fish pond was just down my alley but planning to "work out" was not on my sweating schedule.  I had gotten to where I paced myself, work hard for a few minutes and then rest.  Now I have more stamina, energy and I have lost 20 of those 75 lbs I was carrying the first of the year.

I really enjoy Martial Arts.  I sweat till I am dripping on the floor.  What is so funny is I love it.  I love the moving and pushing myself.  I just have to keep pushing the little voice in my head back into a corner.  It keeps trying to tell me I am too old, to heavy, I am going to hurt myself, I bruise too easy, and that this won't last.  I am still fighting my achilles heel and sometimes it hurts like crazy, but it is not going to stop me.  I am working at my rate.  My goal in MA is just the next belt.  Here I stand today accomplishing that goal for the first time.  My belt is Orange.  It was never my favorite color but I am beginning to love it.   Not for too long.  I am on my way to the next one already.  Could I possibly work my way to Black Belt?  Only time will tell.

Consistent Commitment

Life is getting better and better.  The depression is a thing of the past, even if it is not so far in the past.  Life has not changed, I have. Another visit to my psychiatrist  and she leaves me on the larger dose of Lexapro.  I may always be on some kind of anti depression meds.  I am okay with that.  Life is enjoyable now.

I am still going to Tai Chi classes and meeting people and have fun doing it.  I lost some weight and my husband joined me.  This makes eating this way so much easier and reduces more stress.  The weight is not coming off that quick because I am not on "DIET". I am realistic!  At this rate it could be years  before I unload the backpack with 70 lbs in it.  I know the key is movement, but I hate exercise!  I have no motivation to do it on my own.

While at Tai Chi classes I would watch the very young children going thru their routine.  It looked so easy for them.  I talked with David Hughes again.  I ask if he thought I could do Martial Arts.  David is so sweet and let me know that weight and age is not a factor.  He spent an hour with me, one on one.  He showed me what I would be learning and why and about punches and kicks.  After he explained how the belt system works, I fell in love with the idea of little chunks of a larger goal.  Goals within goals would keep me from looking to far into the future and making the end goal feel unattainable.  Now there was nothing stopping me but me.  I signed up for 6 months.  If I did it month to month it would be so easy to quit after one month.  I got my white pajamas, pink gloves and shoes, WCWMA patch and my white belt the beginning place (someone who knows nothing). 

I starter Martial Arts, 2 classes a week.  It was tough, I was out of breath and sweating from every pore.  Within 2 weeks I had my first stripe on my white belt, proof of learning.  You cannot imagine how excited I was.  Once again that feeling of accomplishment was like a drug I needed.  The extra movement helped with the weight, still slow but that is fine.

As of today, 2 months into Martial Arts I am ready for my exam for my Orange belt.  I am so happy with myself.  The first small goal is within my grasp, I am down 20 lbs.  It is getting easier to move.  My joints and I are getting along better and I know as I work harder one day the blood pressure will start to come down too.

This weekend WCWMA Extravaganza is taking place.  I will be performing with the Tai Chi group and the adult Martial Arts Group.  If I pass my test tomorrow I will be receving my orange belt in front of the school.

A New Commitment

After a month of Tai Chi I began to enjoy my classes.  Sometimes I felt like I was old and not capable of bending and remembering the next move, but I stuck with it.  Even when it felt like dancing in a blender.  Discussions with my therapist were always coming back to my weight and how uncomfortable I felt at 70 lbs. overweight.  She told me on 2 different occasions to stop trying and thinking about it.  What a relief! Then she told me when I was ready it would all fall into place.  I didn't swallow that hook line and sinker.  Nope!  I am in my 60's and this has been an ongoing battle.  IF that was true WHY would it take so long for me to be ready and when would ready happen?

I have GURD, acid reflux.  My esophagus is scared and periodically I have a procedure to check my stomach. I had been having some problems with a feeling of hunger all the time, but when I ate I got a pain like reflux. After the EGD the Doctor told me that at some time recently I had an ulcer.  It was healed but the scar tissue had closed down the outlet from the stomach.   I now had to eat small meals and more of them.  She suggested South Beach Diet because it recommends several small meals.  Was I going to be forced into a new eating plan?  Was I ready?  It was easy to eat smaller meals.  The pain would stop me.  It was easier to eat more often, who wouldn't want too.  That was easy.  I am doing what I need to why not eliminate all white stuff?  Potatoes, breads, rice and pasta were off my radar.  I started to loose, slowly, real slowly but I was not on a diet.

Can you say Tai Chi?

I drove by the Hendersonville YMCA and went in to check it out.  They had a pool, all the equipment and all the different classes anyone could ask for.  There was not a connection as I took the tour.  The price was right and even got better when I told him my age.  They had senior only classes with exercise focusing on my age group, water classes for joint pain and water aerobics.  But... I did not feel at home and comfortable.  I was at a point where I wanted to start something but didn't know what or where.  I kept thinking about yoga because my sister had been going for about a year and was doing really well.  I needed strengthening and muscle work.

I contacted my cousin Sandy Odum Hughes who with her husband David own, Ernie Reyes West Coast Martial Arts, in Gallatin. They were starting a new Tai Chi class the first of May.  I have seen people do Tai Chi and it looked so graceful and easy. I went by their place and watched small children dressed in white pajamas going through their karate routines.  The place was a like a bee hive of people and children and teenagers.  Everyone was friendly and was willing to share their thought on David and Sandy as teachers.  I was comfortable there.  I figured it was a place to start so I called my sister, Wanda to ask her if she would like to try it with me.  I needed the support and she knew it, so she drove from Old Hickory to Gallatin to join me for weeks.  Thank you Wanda. 

Tai Chi looks simple, but when your out of shape it is tiring and seems so confusing.  But after a month it became easier and so relaxing and some moves became second nature.  Yes, it makes you sweat and increases muscle strength and flexability. I had a talk with David about weight loss and got his suggestions.  I was still not dieting!!!  I am  just enjoying the Tai Chi.

Picking myself up again.

Somehow my mind kept me from seeing what I truly looked like.  How is this possible, I knew how much I weight and looked into mirrors, but my mind did not connect these things. How could I have eaten myself into such a shape.  I have been fighting weight for 38 years, I have done almost everything to lose weight.  I even went to the extent of have Lap Band surgery.  That went well until I nearly died from Peritonitis. The band was gone and the weight returned along with a defeated feeling that I ate to cover.

The therapist thought that I was doing well enough before the trip to Honduras that I went 2 weeks with out seeing her.  The next visit was tough as I faced my feelings of failure, guilt, and the feeling of never being good enough.  I felt overwhelmed with failure with weight loss, not following up on my painting, drawing.  As bad as I felt earlier in the year this was worst.  I was aware of everything it seemed.  Earlier I felt drugged, sleep, not really aware of things going on around me but now I was super sensitive. All this came out and was discussed, I bearly remember what was said except when she told me "It is not time for you to try to lose weight".  That one statement lifted me back up.  She gave me work to do but not painting or dieting.   The next week was work adjusting to the new me I kept seeing in everyone's pictures from Honduras.  With each new picture I became more aware of how much I ate and just normally started to cut back some.  I had lost 3 pounds while in Honduras and that was eating the same, just working harder and moving more.  I had to find some way to move more.  I knew now I was strong enough to exercise I couldn't deny that.  I just needed to find something I enjoyed and could stay with.

Mission Trip

My first therapy visit after retreat I was still flying high.  I felt like I could accomplish anything, except I still seemed not to have the desire I thought I should have.  I was still not getting as much done as I wanted to do.  Naps had become far apart and I had the desire to plan things but not to follow through.  I still felt I didn't want anyone to know that I could become depressed.  I was ashamed!  I learned this in therapy, shame shaped my whole life. So I told a few people that I could trust with my shame.

The mission trip to Honduras was fast approaching and I stayed busy packing and unpacking.  I would have to manage my own bags through airports and every where we went. I still took too much.  My cargo bag weighted less than 50 lbs. My carry ons consisted of a purse/small carry on bag, a backpack with a change of clothes and bath supplies and my Cpap machine bag.  I was starting out handicapped with my weight but baggage was another 75 lb to move around.  I knew I could do anything after climbing that pole.

My medicine was helping with the chemical side of my depression and the talk therapy was helping with the emotional side.  By the time of the trip I was feeling pretty good.  Honduras is beautiful so is the people.  Sleeping in a cabin without air condition, showering with cold water, not being able to drink anything but bottled water were not a problem to me. The first day we traveled, the second day we hiked up Ambassador Mountain (yes mountain).  Almost to the top I told someone I felt like I was on the first day of biggest loser.  Coming down the mountain was just as hard on loose gravel.  I slept good.

I worked on a team building a home for a very poor woman and her son.  I helped with measuring and cutting boards.  We were finished in two days.  All that was left was window screens and screen doors that were finished up by the guys the next day.  I went with all the women to work with the children, it was well worth it.  

I have accomplished many things and this rates right up there with all of them.  I am glad I went.  I don't think the age made things harder on me but the weight did.  When I got home I had lost 3 lbs a good start.  I started thinking about what I ate.  It wasn't till all the photos taken of me in Honduras began showing up.  Who was this FAT, 2 chinned, all belly and boobs old woman I was looking at???  Two weeks after the trip I crashed again.  Depression again!

Stronger than I think !

Sometime after my hitting bottom I finally gave in to seeing a Orthopedic Doctor for my achellies tendon. It had been bothering me for months and I had been limping around on it. I had been to an Orthopedic for my right hand in October and had surgery to unlock 2 fingers.  My hand was not 100% yet but I went.   I had a bone spur on my heel and tiny tears in the tendon.  He put me in a cast boot for six weeks.  Relief from the pain was immediate.  I even wore a boot to bed at night.  But once I took the boot off the pain was back.  So it didn't take much to keep me in the boot for six weeks.

After 2 weeks of the increased Lexapro, I finally began to feel better.  Not enough to get out of the house but better.  Still sleepy and ready to nap.   I started therapy sessions and was able to talk to someone who would listen with the intent to help.

After a whole month on the changed prescription I returned to the psychiatrist.  After she had gotten a copy of my blood results from my GP she upped my Lexapro again to 40 mg daily. By the end of the next two weeks, with the increased medicine and the weekly therapy sessions, I was beginning to climb out of the pit. I was beginning to function again.  I still didn't have a real desire to do anything.

The end of Feb. brought the Womens Retreat at Camp NaCoMe.  The Orthopedic gave me the go to take off the cast as I saw fit.  So I wore it off and on until retreat.  I even carried it with me to wear when the foot hurt.

Retreat is usually uplifting under normal conditions but I was not in normal condition.  To be very honest, I went because I was supposed to.  I went through the motions, there were moments of fun and laughter but I was unconnected.  On Saturday afternoon they offered the Zip Line for everyone that wanted to try it.  Here I must explain why I said yes!  The year before I had signed up to go on a Mission Trip with a church group. They have been several years before and had built homes.  I signed up knowing this.  Also knowing how strong I was. No one needs to tell me I am 75 lbs overweight or that I am 63 years old.  So when it was announced that WE could do bible school for the children, I took it to mean ME.  So of course I said YES, I was going to show everyone that I was stronger than I look.

So Saturday afternoon I hiked up a steep hillside to the site of the Zip line.  It was about 50 yards long, ending further up the hillside.  To attach to the zip line you had to climb a 50 ft pole, very much like a telephone pole. There were metal handle/steps attached but to get to them you had to climb a ladder. After hiking that far I was winded and my legs were weak.  There were several that went in front of me so I had time to recover but my determination never wavered.  I put on the harness and helmet and watch the taller younger women climb without fear.  My turn came and I climb the ladder without a second thought.  There was no thought of my heel or the pain this could cause.  I reached up an grabbed the first handle, pulling with my right hand and pushing with my foot.  I didn't even think about my still healing palm.  I just kept moving until I reached the halfway mark.  I failed to tell you I am 5'2" and the metal hooks had been a stretch for me, but the next handle was just out of reach of my right foot with the bad heel.  I had to stop and think, I was not coming down!  My leg was just too short and I had too much fat between me and the pole.  I adjusted my stance leaning to the far, far left and pulled hard with my left hand and my foot made contact.  I was off again until I had to make the transition to the platform.  My arms and legs were limp and felt like noodles.  It took all I had for the last pull and push to stand on the platform.

I can't describe how it felt to stand that high after doing the same thing the others had done only with 75 extra pounds and about 20 year more than the rest.  I was literally so high that I don't really remember the ride on the Zip.  Things in my life turned around with that climb.  I knew I was stronger than even I knew.

Depression gets a foot hold.

As you can see from the date, its not the New Year!  The first of the new year I crashed, mentally and physically.  The last part of 2110 I gained 25 pounds very fast as the depression set in.  This in addition to the 50 lbs I was all ready carrying.  The first couple of weeks of this year were just plain hard.  I never got to the place I wanted to die, but I didn't want to go on.  I could sleep at the drop of a hat.  I would not leave the house for anything but church. There would be days that I still had my pajamas on when Charlie came home from work.  I didn't find it necessary to shower or brush my teeth.  I sit in the recliner and watch TV and napped all day. I didn't care.  I didn't have the desire to do things that I used to fine JOY in.  I had abandoned painting and drawing when I moved, even though I had an artist studio I had never had before.  I had two new puppies that should have made me happy, but my joy seemed buried so deep that I couldn't smile.

One morning I broke. I still don't understand how, it must have been God.  I turned to my husband and started to spill how bad I felt and how low I was.  He was concerned but there was nothing he could do to help.  I was at the bottom of the pit and the sides were caving in on me little by little.  If I didn't find a way out I would be lost. 

I had been taking a well know anti depressant for some time but I knew it was not working.  The Nurse practitioner at my Doctors office knew I felt this way last fall and had given me a prescription for Zantac to take when I felt more down than usual. She had blood work drawn for a complete work up. The Zantac was not working and it seemed to make me worse, so I had stopped taking it.  I knew I needed to see a Doctor but not my normal practitioner.  I got out the yellow pages and looked up Pyschiatrist.  First I looked into my area, then at the names.  I picked one based on how unusual her name sounded last name first.  I called and got an appointment for that same week.  I think I let the receptionist know I was in trouble when I called.  That day was a blur.  I busied myself gathering information until the appointment.  I listed all my drugs and ailments, and major occurances (mother, dogs death, move etc) on a notepad so I wouldn't forget.

Once again God was walking with me all the time.  I was just so low I could not realize it.  When I got to Shannon Little's office I was almost excited.  Things were going to change.  I spent an hour with her, she gathered all my info and ask some deep and probing questions. She requested the results from the blood work done last fall and made a follow up appointment for me to see her.  She wrote a prescription to up my Lexapro from 20 mg to 30 mg. She also told me to STOP taking the Zantac.  It would bring me up and drop me as it wore off, leaving me more depressed and down.  She suggested a Therapist Julie Vero.  She went ahead and made an appointment for me for the following week.

So the work began.  Hard, hard work.  Don't miss understand.  Even with drugs and therapy depression does not change overnight.  Not even in a month.

A new year a new ME! ??

Last year was not a good one.  So many downers it is overwhelming to think about. These are just a few. My Mother has dementia and is in a suspended state of life.  Not really living, and not yet dead.  A body aged and withered, literally skin, bones and sinue.  She knows and recognizes me for maybe 2 minutes.  Time with her is painful, and life after I leave I crash into depression.  I can't do any more for her.  I had 3 dogs that I had to have put to sleep, months apart and from different problems.  All of them had been with me and my husband for years and were part of our family.  They were small children with fur. Each time I would morn and another would die.  Again depression moved in in 2010.