I am officially enrolled in a program that, when I complete it, will let me obtain my Dog Trainer License. That's right, folks. I'm turning my hobby into a profession. My love for dogs is going to carry me through these intense classes and into a career I can tell I'm going to enjoy.
Not going to lie, this program scares me a bit. I wasn't at all worried about it until I looked over the material. This is definitely an in-depth program that is designed to ensure only the absolute best reach the end and graduate with their license. I really want to be a part of that elite.
My husband took me to buy school supplies. I've always forced myself to buy practical supplies, but this time I let myself indulge a bit. I do have normal pens, pencils, and erasers, but I also have a glittery zebra binder, a glossy pink folder, a shimmery planner, and a pretty golden notebook. My fellow EDS-ers can appreciate the zebra binder. It's mint green with glittery gold zebras.
Once I finish my book learning portion, I get to work with shelter dogs as part of the school's outreach program. I'm going to work with the dogs who really need it with the goal of getting them adopted. Both of my fur babies were shelter dogs, so I am ecstatic over this opportunity to help other doggos find forever families. I will then get to shadow a mentor and eventually teach classes under their supervision.
Those of you who know me know that I have a tendency to rank academics as #1 in my life. This means I will sacrifice sleep, food, family, friends, health, love, everything and anything for the grade. And not just any grade, the top grade. The one thing I have been scared about is that this program will ignite that toxic part of my brain/personality and that this toxicity will take over my life as it had for so many years. I am determined to not let that happen. Part of that is that I could start studying tonight, but I am forcing myself to wait until tomorrow. I went ahead and looked over the material, but then made myself log out of the online Student Center and I'm blogging and watching America's Got Talent and World of Dance (Fik-shun is a contestant and not a judge?? What is this??) and playing with my dogs. I also made myself stop and eat supper when I realized that I was so absorbed in looking over the material that I was ignoring my stomach pains. Many people don't realize that my GPA was my life for so many years that when I graduated college, I didn't know how to define myself anymore. I didn't know how to measure my success. It took years to get over this awful way of viewing my life, and I'm still not entirely over it. I don't think I ever will be. But I do know that being aware of it means I can make conscious efforts to not let this toxic mindset back into the driver's seat of my life. I will complete this course and I will graduate. I am determined. But I am equally determined that this will not be at the expense of my life, health, and happiness.
My baby Jeph is my "project" dog. I get to take videos of our training sessions, proving I can apply the lessons I'm learning to a real-life canine. Mr. Jeph is unsure as to how he feels about this. He'd rather climb on the kitchen counters and explore trash cans. But he will learn. He's a smart little guy.
To summarize: I'm so excited and so intimidated and so ready. Bring on the pups!
Showing posts with label Zebra. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Zebra. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 6, 2017
Friday, June 2, 2017
The Porch Theory
Y'all, I had a dream two nights ago and I just can't stop thinking about it. This dream has radically changed how I think about my life. I woke up today thinking about it again and it's been three hours and I can't sleep or stop thinking about it so I think I'll share. Bear with me as dreams are weird and hazy and confusing, but hopefully you can follow along.
In my dream, I had a session with a famous therapist. Famous therapist's name was Sally or Susan or something like that. My brain isn't super original when it comes to names. Anyways, I was in her office with my husband and I was crying and telling her all about my life and talking about how nothing I'm doing seems to be working. She nodded gravely and told me it was because all I was doing was re-painting my porch. Stay with me, guys. This is where shit gets real. I was like, "This sounds like another mindfulness exercise that isn't going to help," and she told me that those exercises helped you recognize the chips in your porch paint and the other general wear and tear. What the heck, right? She gave me a workbook and told me I needed to do the homework before she saw me again the next day. In my dream, I went home and grumbled about having to do some more pointless analogy therapy that ultimately would do nothing for me. I then opened the workbook and what was in there was fascinating.
The Porch Theory is this idea that your life is built like a porch. (I need to add here that I am not a carpenter, have built stage set pieces, and am fully aware that what follows is not actually a good way to build a porch.) There is a poured foundation made of concrete. On top are four main support beams. Covering those are the long pieces of wood that make up the porch. Then comes the stain/paint and the decorations. Each part of the porch represents something different. The foundation is what your every action stems from. This is the root cause of everything you do. Then the foundation beams are the four main focuses your brain has. The long pieces of wood are your values that stem from those main focuses (which are influenced by the foundation). And then comes the paint/stain, which is the actions that you do and your outward symptoms, caused by the values which stem from the focuses that are influenced by the foundation.
In my dream, I did two written exercises. The first was to analyze my life starting from the paint and working my way back to the foundation. Then I labeled a diagram of my current "porch" with what I had written. This exercise took a long time, even in dream world. I ended up skipping around to the different parts of the "porch" as I tried to make sense of everything. The end result was me staring at this "porch," feeling as though I had been laid bare onto paper. My paint, the outward manifestation of my inward life, included like "people pleaser," "excessive apologizing," "panic and anxiety attacks," "sobbing," "anger towards my health," "shame over needing mobility devices, medications, etc," and "going to countless doctor appointments even though I know this doctor isn't the one for me." I could go on, but you get the point. The long pieces of wood, the values, were things like "religion," "putting family and friends above health," "getting the highest education possible," "being the best," "keeping a clean house at all costs," "forcing my body to stay healthy as much as possible," and "working a good job". The four main support beams were "Not wanting to be abandoned," "Not wanting anyone to regret being around me," "Not wanting to be a burden," and "Thinking everyone else deserves more/better than I do." My foundation was Fear and Worthlessness.
After I did this exercise, I found myself back in the dream therapist's office, sobbing and holding my husband's hands as I told her all about my porch. What could I do? This seemed like a horrible life I'd created for myself, and I felt hopeless about it.
She told me that yes, this is a terrible porch. It is, at its foundation, flawed. She told me that I couldn't expect a beautiful life when my thinking was all stemming from places of fear and worthlessness the same way that I shouldn't expect a porch with a nasty, cracked foundation and rotting wood to be an amazing place to have lemonade and iced tea during the summer with my husband. She told me it wasn't my fault that my porch is shit. She jokingly told me that with the life I've lived, she was surprised the whole damn house hadn't fallen apart. I couldn't stop crying. She got down on my level, looked me in the eyes and quietly asked me if I was ready for a new porch. I told her yes, but how the hell do I do that? She nodded solemnly and said, "Renovations."
She then had me do the second exercise in the workbook. The second exercise was, "Describe your dream porch (aka ideal life/values/etc.). My dream porch's outward appearance were things like "singing in the shower again," and "smiling," and "enjoying time with friends," and "happiness," and "baking" and "painting". My porch boards, my values, were made up of "Living in the moment," "Gratefulness," "Finding contentment," "Loving friends," "Relationship with husband," and others I can't remember right now. The four beams were "mental health," "healthy marriage," "physical health," and "hope." And the foundation? It was Self Love.
Sounds great, right? But how to get there? SallySusan the Dream Therapist was a little hazy on this one, but told me that every time I am having an outward symptom or thought that echoes the nasty porch, to think of the ideal porch and try to follow along with what I think that would look like. For example, if I find myself crying over how messy the house is, I should take a step back and realize that this comes from that gross foundation. I can then try to remind myself of how I want to be thinking. AKA, "Yes, the house is messy but it actually isn't hurting anyone and hey, isn't it great that husband and I have been resting and going places and having fun and yeah, we haven't had time to clean the house but look at all we've done this week!" or "Yes, the house is messy but it actually isn't hurting anyone and if it is, I can ask husband for help because I don't have to do it all by myself and it isn't horrible to ask him to help and we could play music and it could actually be fun!" or "Yes, the house is messy but no, you haven't 'done nothing' all week, you've taken all your pills on time and rested your joints and remember that one time you pet your dog? That was pretty awesome! And it's okay to focus on your health. Remember those beams on your dream porch? It's okay." She told me that I was going to need to go right down to the foundation and change it and then the other changes would follow.
My dream therapist told me that this was going to be nasty, messy work. She told me to think of it like any renovation. There will be setbacks. She told me that any time I experience a setback while working toward this "new porch" and feel like I'll never get there, to just think of it as a construction issue and forgive myself. There might be termites living in the wood of the porch, waiting to be exposed. The renovation crew might take unexpected holidays and leave me with a shattered mess to work around for weeks. Maybe there's some electrical wiring that needs to be replaced. Perhaps we'll get the porch built and realize that the foundation was never actually touched, the crew just said they did it and we have to tear the whole thing apart again. She told me that just as re-making a foundation for a house or porch is ridiculously hard and irritating, re-making a foundation for my life will be, too. And just like porches continually need weather-proofing, the occasional board replacement, re-painting, and other regular maintenance, keeping myself healthy will require constant work. But she told me to look forward to the days when I can sit out on a nice porch, sipping iced tea on a lounger next to my husband and watching the sunset.
Although it was a dream, I'm going to follow along with the Porch Theory and see if it works. Feel free to join me. If you'd like, you can share your own "Dream Porch" with me in the comments or on my Facebook page, Instagram, or Twitter.
In my dream, I had a session with a famous therapist. Famous therapist's name was Sally or Susan or something like that. My brain isn't super original when it comes to names. Anyways, I was in her office with my husband and I was crying and telling her all about my life and talking about how nothing I'm doing seems to be working. She nodded gravely and told me it was because all I was doing was re-painting my porch. Stay with me, guys. This is where shit gets real. I was like, "This sounds like another mindfulness exercise that isn't going to help," and she told me that those exercises helped you recognize the chips in your porch paint and the other general wear and tear. What the heck, right? She gave me a workbook and told me I needed to do the homework before she saw me again the next day. In my dream, I went home and grumbled about having to do some more pointless analogy therapy that ultimately would do nothing for me. I then opened the workbook and what was in there was fascinating.
The Porch Theory is this idea that your life is built like a porch. (I need to add here that I am not a carpenter, have built stage set pieces, and am fully aware that what follows is not actually a good way to build a porch.) There is a poured foundation made of concrete. On top are four main support beams. Covering those are the long pieces of wood that make up the porch. Then comes the stain/paint and the decorations. Each part of the porch represents something different. The foundation is what your every action stems from. This is the root cause of everything you do. Then the foundation beams are the four main focuses your brain has. The long pieces of wood are your values that stem from those main focuses (which are influenced by the foundation). And then comes the paint/stain, which is the actions that you do and your outward symptoms, caused by the values which stem from the focuses that are influenced by the foundation.
In my dream, I did two written exercises. The first was to analyze my life starting from the paint and working my way back to the foundation. Then I labeled a diagram of my current "porch" with what I had written. This exercise took a long time, even in dream world. I ended up skipping around to the different parts of the "porch" as I tried to make sense of everything. The end result was me staring at this "porch," feeling as though I had been laid bare onto paper. My paint, the outward manifestation of my inward life, included like "people pleaser," "excessive apologizing," "panic and anxiety attacks," "sobbing," "anger towards my health," "shame over needing mobility devices, medications, etc," and "going to countless doctor appointments even though I know this doctor isn't the one for me." I could go on, but you get the point. The long pieces of wood, the values, were things like "religion," "putting family and friends above health," "getting the highest education possible," "being the best," "keeping a clean house at all costs," "forcing my body to stay healthy as much as possible," and "working a good job". The four main support beams were "Not wanting to be abandoned," "Not wanting anyone to regret being around me," "Not wanting to be a burden," and "Thinking everyone else deserves more/better than I do." My foundation was Fear and Worthlessness.
After I did this exercise, I found myself back in the dream therapist's office, sobbing and holding my husband's hands as I told her all about my porch. What could I do? This seemed like a horrible life I'd created for myself, and I felt hopeless about it.
She told me that yes, this is a terrible porch. It is, at its foundation, flawed. She told me that I couldn't expect a beautiful life when my thinking was all stemming from places of fear and worthlessness the same way that I shouldn't expect a porch with a nasty, cracked foundation and rotting wood to be an amazing place to have lemonade and iced tea during the summer with my husband. She told me it wasn't my fault that my porch is shit. She jokingly told me that with the life I've lived, she was surprised the whole damn house hadn't fallen apart. I couldn't stop crying. She got down on my level, looked me in the eyes and quietly asked me if I was ready for a new porch. I told her yes, but how the hell do I do that? She nodded solemnly and said, "Renovations."
She then had me do the second exercise in the workbook. The second exercise was, "Describe your dream porch (aka ideal life/values/etc.). My dream porch's outward appearance were things like "singing in the shower again," and "smiling," and "enjoying time with friends," and "happiness," and "baking" and "painting". My porch boards, my values, were made up of "Living in the moment," "Gratefulness," "Finding contentment," "Loving friends," "Relationship with husband," and others I can't remember right now. The four beams were "mental health," "healthy marriage," "physical health," and "hope." And the foundation? It was Self Love.
Sounds great, right? But how to get there? SallySusan the Dream Therapist was a little hazy on this one, but told me that every time I am having an outward symptom or thought that echoes the nasty porch, to think of the ideal porch and try to follow along with what I think that would look like. For example, if I find myself crying over how messy the house is, I should take a step back and realize that this comes from that gross foundation. I can then try to remind myself of how I want to be thinking. AKA, "Yes, the house is messy but it actually isn't hurting anyone and hey, isn't it great that husband and I have been resting and going places and having fun and yeah, we haven't had time to clean the house but look at all we've done this week!" or "Yes, the house is messy but it actually isn't hurting anyone and if it is, I can ask husband for help because I don't have to do it all by myself and it isn't horrible to ask him to help and we could play music and it could actually be fun!" or "Yes, the house is messy but no, you haven't 'done nothing' all week, you've taken all your pills on time and rested your joints and remember that one time you pet your dog? That was pretty awesome! And it's okay to focus on your health. Remember those beams on your dream porch? It's okay." She told me that I was going to need to go right down to the foundation and change it and then the other changes would follow.
My dream therapist told me that this was going to be nasty, messy work. She told me to think of it like any renovation. There will be setbacks. She told me that any time I experience a setback while working toward this "new porch" and feel like I'll never get there, to just think of it as a construction issue and forgive myself. There might be termites living in the wood of the porch, waiting to be exposed. The renovation crew might take unexpected holidays and leave me with a shattered mess to work around for weeks. Maybe there's some electrical wiring that needs to be replaced. Perhaps we'll get the porch built and realize that the foundation was never actually touched, the crew just said they did it and we have to tear the whole thing apart again. She told me that just as re-making a foundation for a house or porch is ridiculously hard and irritating, re-making a foundation for my life will be, too. And just like porches continually need weather-proofing, the occasional board replacement, re-painting, and other regular maintenance, keeping myself healthy will require constant work. But she told me to look forward to the days when I can sit out on a nice porch, sipping iced tea on a lounger next to my husband and watching the sunset.
Although it was a dream, I'm going to follow along with the Porch Theory and see if it works. Feel free to join me. If you'd like, you can share your own "Dream Porch" with me in the comments or on my Facebook page, Instagram, or Twitter.
Sunday, March 26, 2017
We Are The New Warriors
The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that I need to create a soundtrack playlist for my life. Doing the kind of things that chronic illness and mental illness warriors do on a daily basis requires superhero movie music. I mean, honestly. Someone without these things won't know how hard it is to fight with your own body and/or your own mind. It takes so much energy to get out of bed, brush teeth, style hair, make food, and other things that able-bodied and neurotypical people do in their routines. (I'm not sure if neurotypical is the proper term, as these things change a lot. What I mean is someone who is not fighting a mental illness. Feel free to correct me in the comments if the term has changed, and I will use the new term in future posts.)
Tonight, I looked over the reading my Psychologist has given me. I set my alarm to get up in time to get ready to go to my first Group Therapy session, prescribed by my Psychiatrist. I took my evening mind and body medications in order to be able to survive the night. I looked over my prescription papers that say that I medically need a wheelchair starting now. And all I could think as I did all this was action movie music swelling the way it does in every good action movie and the main character (me) saying epically, "Let's do this!" followed by the bass drop and subsequent fight music.
When we say we are warriors, we do not take that term lightly. We are not being overdramatic. We are not applying labels to things that don't deserve them. Someone who fights as hard as we do is a warrior. These illnesses take our blood, sweat, tears, friendships, families, future hopes, saliva, organs, awareness, and whatever else they want. And we fight tooth and nail to keep as many of those things as long as we can.
We are many. We are mighty. And if we ever get completely better, we'll dominate the world. But for now, we will take naps and continue to fight when we wake up.
Tonight, I looked over the reading my Psychologist has given me. I set my alarm to get up in time to get ready to go to my first Group Therapy session, prescribed by my Psychiatrist. I took my evening mind and body medications in order to be able to survive the night. I looked over my prescription papers that say that I medically need a wheelchair starting now. And all I could think as I did all this was action movie music swelling the way it does in every good action movie and the main character (me) saying epically, "Let's do this!" followed by the bass drop and subsequent fight music.
When we say we are warriors, we do not take that term lightly. We are not being overdramatic. We are not applying labels to things that don't deserve them. Someone who fights as hard as we do is a warrior. These illnesses take our blood, sweat, tears, friendships, families, future hopes, saliva, organs, awareness, and whatever else they want. And we fight tooth and nail to keep as many of those things as long as we can.
We are many. We are mighty. And if we ever get completely better, we'll dominate the world. But for now, we will take naps and continue to fight when we wake up.
Wednesday, March 15, 2017
GREAT NEWS FOR EDS ZEBRAS!
Today is a beautiful, gorgeous day! Today, new medical research articles are being published about Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome! The classifications and requirements have been updated for the first time since 1997! After 20 years, we finally have some new information! Twenty years, people! I'm over the moon. I can't wait to skim the medical articles when they become available to the public later today. A "layman's" version will be published in a few weeks for easier access for everyone.
Do you realize? Do you understand? This means there is updated information that doctors can read to understand how to treat us. This means those of us who have gone misdiagnosed and shoved to the side can be like, "OH LOOK! MEDICAL RESEARCH THAT YOU CAN READ THAT PROVES I HAVE AN ACTUAL PROBLEM IT IS RIGHT HERE LOOK AT IT!" It took me 25 years to be diagnosed properly, and with these new classifications, my type of EDS diagnosis might get altered slightly in order for me to get more specialized treatments.
The original classifications of "1,2,3" etc. have been replaced by acronyms and easily-understood diagnostic criteria. My "EDS Type 3 Hypermobility" would now just be called hEDS. How great is that? The others acronyms I've seen so far are cEDS (Classical) and vEDS (Vascular). Later today, the articles about the three main types (hEDS, cEDS, and vEDS) will come available to the public along with articles about the lesser-known types. I can't speak about those because I actually don't know what they are. I'm excited to find out and see if I fit those instead of hEDS. But if I stay with a hEDS diagnosis, I'm okay with that. But I digress. The point is, PUBLISHED NEW RESEARCH FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 20 YEARS!
There is even research on pregnancies and EDS. I know I've been very quiet about this kind of thing, but I absolutely cannot get pregnant currently. Is it possible for me to get pregnant? Yes. Is it horribly dangerous for me and my unborn child? Yes. Would we both die or be horribly destroyed for life if I didn't have an abortion? With the research from 1997, yes. What is this new research? I don't know, but I'm interested to read it! What a beautiful day it would be if the horror stories of women who have EDS dying in childbirth, losing their babies, and being wrecked and their baby being horribly hurt would disappear from the internet or be a rare case instead of the norm!
A week from tomorrow, I go to my doctor to talk about getting a wheelchair. If there are treatments that can reverse the damage my joints have endured or treatments that can slow that nastiness down, sign me up. Seriously.
The symbol for EDS is a Zebra. Zebra stripes on everything. Why? Because there is a famous quote by Dr. Theodore Woodward. Addressing medical students in the 1940s, he said, "When you hear hoofbeats, think of horses, not zebras." So many of us have been treated as confusing "horses" by doctors who get frustrated with us and shove us to the side and dismiss us when we explain that we're different from other "horses." When we finally realize we've been zebras all along, the relief at having a name for ourselves is incredible. Even more rare is finding a doctor who knows what to do with our zebra-ness. The more light this disgusting, debilitating, awful illness gets, the more research will go into it and the more treatments will be discovered and the more people will be positively affected and maybe someday those of us who are "Zebra Strong" will not be seen as burdens to doctors, but as human beings who have a terrible but treatable ailment.
Do you realize? Do you understand? This means there is updated information that doctors can read to understand how to treat us. This means those of us who have gone misdiagnosed and shoved to the side can be like, "OH LOOK! MEDICAL RESEARCH THAT YOU CAN READ THAT PROVES I HAVE AN ACTUAL PROBLEM IT IS RIGHT HERE LOOK AT IT!" It took me 25 years to be diagnosed properly, and with these new classifications, my type of EDS diagnosis might get altered slightly in order for me to get more specialized treatments.
The original classifications of "1,2,3" etc. have been replaced by acronyms and easily-understood diagnostic criteria. My "EDS Type 3 Hypermobility" would now just be called hEDS. How great is that? The others acronyms I've seen so far are cEDS (Classical) and vEDS (Vascular). Later today, the articles about the three main types (hEDS, cEDS, and vEDS) will come available to the public along with articles about the lesser-known types. I can't speak about those because I actually don't know what they are. I'm excited to find out and see if I fit those instead of hEDS. But if I stay with a hEDS diagnosis, I'm okay with that. But I digress. The point is, PUBLISHED NEW RESEARCH FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 20 YEARS!
There is even research on pregnancies and EDS. I know I've been very quiet about this kind of thing, but I absolutely cannot get pregnant currently. Is it possible for me to get pregnant? Yes. Is it horribly dangerous for me and my unborn child? Yes. Would we both die or be horribly destroyed for life if I didn't have an abortion? With the research from 1997, yes. What is this new research? I don't know, but I'm interested to read it! What a beautiful day it would be if the horror stories of women who have EDS dying in childbirth, losing their babies, and being wrecked and their baby being horribly hurt would disappear from the internet or be a rare case instead of the norm!
A week from tomorrow, I go to my doctor to talk about getting a wheelchair. If there are treatments that can reverse the damage my joints have endured or treatments that can slow that nastiness down, sign me up. Seriously.
The symbol for EDS is a Zebra. Zebra stripes on everything. Why? Because there is a famous quote by Dr. Theodore Woodward. Addressing medical students in the 1940s, he said, "When you hear hoofbeats, think of horses, not zebras." So many of us have been treated as confusing "horses" by doctors who get frustrated with us and shove us to the side and dismiss us when we explain that we're different from other "horses." When we finally realize we've been zebras all along, the relief at having a name for ourselves is incredible. Even more rare is finding a doctor who knows what to do with our zebra-ness. The more light this disgusting, debilitating, awful illness gets, the more research will go into it and the more treatments will be discovered and the more people will be positively affected and maybe someday those of us who are "Zebra Strong" will not be seen as burdens to doctors, but as human beings who have a terrible but treatable ailment.
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