Wasted Years

So, understand

Don't waste your time always searching for

Those wasted years.

Face up, make your stand,

And realise your living in the golden years.

Iron Maiden - Wasted Years

We could call this a belated resolution for 2015, but it's going to take some explaining. You, my readers, seem to enjoy it when I have a bit of a rant - watch this space. It's going to be a rough crossing!

We as people are no stranger to the fact that, like it or not, we're bombarding by advertising. In the field of health and beauty, that advertising does only one thing: it reinforces the narrow societal standard of what health and beauty look like. There is no variation, it looks one way and one way only. If you don't look that way, well, you don't have a place in this society, peasant scum!

In my early twenties I not only became vastly more aware of the existence of this standard, but also became far more cognizent of the fact it is a huge problem unlikely to be solved any time soon. I then set about putting a lot of effort into rejecting it.

Firstly, I'm 5'3". No amount of exercise or wishful thinking will make me supermodel-tall. I'm also British and typically British-woman-shaped. Even if I carried not even an ounce of spare on my legs and backside, they'd still be the largest part of my body. My frame is built  that way, and years of horse riding, skiing, swimming and plenty of other activities have created a fair amount of thigh muscle that won't shift in a hurry. Since I booked my first lesson in returning to horse riding this weekend, I'm not exactly doing anything to disencourage maintaining that muscle.

Why am I telling you all this? Because recently I've noticed I'm back-sliding on all that work on rejecting the tsandard and being happy with me for me. I don't think I can pinpoint when this started, but it's been creeping up on me for some time now. It's finally reached the point where I can't really pretend it isn't there any more.

When in a reasonable mood, I can easily say this has been compounded by inability to really exercise for a couple of months post-surgery, a tendency not to eat properly for those couple of months because I was eating what was comfortable and easy to chew, and spent a fair amount of time swinging between no appetite at all and wanting to do this:

(Image from thisfelicitouslife.wordpress.com. Original "X all the Y"meme from hyperboleandahalf)

In some part it stems from a time last year where I put a fair bit of weight on. Being me, it went to one place and one place only. In my no doubt slightly skewed view, my arse was well into the realms where it could consider applying to have its own solar system with a more than reasonable chance of success.

I appreciate to some people that would be no bad thing. I however have always been very bad at accpeting changes in my shape as they don't occur very often. So infrequently in fact that I have no idea what to do save fly into a state of mild panic.

Hey, if you're going to overreact you may as well commit.

Now, I've lost all that weight and I'm about back to normal. You'd assume everything would be fine, but it isn't. I'm definitely still in "not good enough" mode. Now there's nothing wrong with wanting to improve a particular area, but it's more than a little unhealthy when your expectations become inflated and unrealistic, which mine certainly are verging on.

In doing a quick bit of internet research for this post, it astounds me just how many aids there are in feeling unsatisfactory within easy reach of a few taps of a keyboard. Weight calculators which take no account of muscle to fat ratio or general frame before they brand you morbidly obese. "Shape" calculators which are frankly nothing short of insulting unless your measurements result in "hourglass" - which we all know is the only valid shape if you're a woman and want to take up space on the planet. I'm a person and not a piece of fruit, thank you very much (I get "pear" shaped as often as not).

I think the point I'm circling around here is really one of just how insidious this sort of thing is. There is absolutely no such thing as "perfect" but it's surprisingly easy to become overwhelmed with the expectation to achieve it nonetheless. And do you realise what we do each time we buy into the instantaneous flawless skin, effortless weight loss and general impossible "glow" we're sold?

Yes, that's right. We reinforce the standard, each and every time.

I'm not sure if the same can be said of men, but women in particular are expected and encouraged to compete with each other instead of hold one another up. It's often difficult to make an innocent compliment without it being analysed for agenda and hidden intent for this reason. Said expectation not only leads to a lot needless unhappiness, but also to the idea that only one shape or size - the opposite of said standard is "allowed" to feel inadequate. We struggle to accept that everyone has "fat" days, and most people have some part of their body they like less than another and would be willing to change. It's an entirely human thing, and despite what advertising may suggest we are indeed all human.

We would do well to realise that we're all in the same boat. We would do better still to recognise that with a not insignificant personal effort, we can choose to ignore it too.

So, this is my late resolution. I'm going to kick this unhealthy line of thought and work hard at self-acceptance instead. I've managed it before, so I suppose I get the added bonus of having proof it's possible. I'm sure plenty of us have wasted years and years in pointless self-flagellation on this topic.

How about we be a bit kinder to ourselves? You might not always appreciate it, but there's nobody else in the world looks exactly like you - no matter what size, shape or weight you might be right now, because those three things will be fluid throughout your life.

We should maybe remember that this in itself is something worth celebrating.

(One this note, a new motto: "I have a Bridgeburners top, therefore I am by default mind-blowingly fabulous"
That should work.)

Don't mind me, I'm going back to swearing at Ebay in my attempts to find a new dress for Valentine's Day. Why I do this to myself I'll never know - I HATE shopping.

Anybody have any thoughts on this topic? I'd love to hear them. Did you make any similar resolutions?

Wishing you all many spoons xxx

"Don't read this or you'll go blind"

(For any Erikson fans who haven't tried these yet, I recommend you do. They're hilarious.)

 

The title above is the “warning to lifestyle fascists everywhere” which opens Steven Erikson ‘s novella The Healthy Dead, one of the Tales of Bauchelain and Korbal Broach. So, if you don’t like what you’re about to read and this results in loss of vision (whether temporary or permanent), I accept no responsibility whatsoever. I told you not to read it.

 

The Healthy Dead parodies modern society’s obsession with health and fitness and “what is good for you” with gleeful aplomb, hence I’m echoing the warning to start this post. There’s a reason for this.

 

I’m sick of being bombarded by what is (in someone else’s approximation) “good for me”. Aren’t you?

 

This week is my first week back at work post-surgery, and I’m virtually singing from the treetops in rapture. The novelty of being at home recovering had more than worn off.

 

Anyway, I set myself up for something of a fall in picking up the magazine left on the seat next to me on the train home one evening. I think it was Glamour, but in all honesty I can’t remember. You may not believe me, but faced with a choice between the denizens of the 17:52 to York or burying your head in any reading material to hand so they don’t talk to you, you’d read Glamour too.

 

One thing that should probably always be borne in mind with magazines like this is that whatever you’re doing is not enough. However fit you are, there’s always an extra spinning class you could take (I still don’t know what spinning is), and however happy you are there’s always another yoga session to be completed. I think I mentioned buying a yoga DVD some time ago. It’s still at the bottom of one of the moving boxes, probably breeding weird yoga-doing dust bunnies by now. In short, you should always bear in mind that YOU ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

 

So, don’t read those sorts of things and that solves the problem. Right? Right...?

 

Sadly not, because in my experience you never have to go far to find someone who has taken this ideal to heart and now thinks it’s their life’s mission to fix everyone else. By fix, I mean make sure they do things their way. Deviation is not tolerated and individual thought is most certainly not required.

 

On a basic level, we all know eating well and exercising are good things. I’m not here to argue with that. However, I am endlessly irritated by the idea that only one person’s preferred form of exercise is valid, or that their lifestyle is eminently superior. I can’t quite decide whether I think these one-size-fits-all people are just excessively narrow-minded or in actual fact not that bright – because you don’t have to apply many brain cells at all to realise the idea is utterly ludicrous.

 

For a personal example, the next person who comments to me about my lifestyle in relation to chronic illness is going to regret it instantaneously. Hell hath no fury like a small lady whose had enough of your nonsense.

 

If I want your opinion, I will ask for it. Otherwise, the likelihood is you don’t know nearly enough to make what you’re about to say remotely informed. So here’s a refreshing new idea for you: just shut up.

 

I know what my body can cope with given that it has Petunia in tow, and I also know that it can cope with far more now, three years on, than it could when I was diagnosed. I’m probably as fit as I’ve ever been right now – despite the fact I’m not exercising every day or attending a gym.

(Yes, but I've developed an unreasonable dislike for turning right, so sod you.)

 

“Never get anywhere with that attitude”, will I? Just watch me.

 

Something that commenters of this ilk seem to wilfully forget is that Fibromyalgia (or indeed any chronic illness) is not a bad habit. It’s not a singular health-impacting issue like for example drinking too much or not eating enough. It’s an illness, and it’s here to stay. Therefore, I can’t stop drinking, eat more, start running or take up any other one-step solutions and expect the problem to be solved.

 

You know, I might even brand that on to the next offending individual’s forehead. This is going to require a very small typeface indeed.  

 

Since I started with the fitness point, I may as well tell you what I get up to on this front. I do Pilates several times a week (I’ve a couple of DVD routines memorised now, which is nice), and I do basic things like squats and sit-ups just about every day. I’m planning to try a jive class and return to horse riding as mentioned previously. I also really need to crack the dancersize DVDs out again, but since we moved to the Upside Down house it’s a case of needing to rearrange the furniture each time I want to do so and that makes me lazy.

 

There, I said it, the diabolical L word. I’m inside right now but I can’t see any fire raining down. Lightning has yet to strike the building in response to my presumption, and the lynch mob have yet to appear to confirm what a terrible person I am.

 

If being lazy is indeed such a terrible thing, then after my three and a bit weeks of recovery from my operation I have definitely become firmly entrenched in the ranks of the hopeless. I did very little, mostly because I had a sewn-up hole in my head which protested if I did anything more. Joffrey was horrible, but the surgical site that was Not-Joffrey-Anymore certainly made up for it in being grumpy about any sort of activity at all. However, I also did very little because I could.

 

For a short time, it was glorious. I soon grew bored of it, but that short period of total “laziness” (otherwise called relaxation and recovery in this case) was very good for me. I wasn’t doing any of the usual things that were “good for me” (including eating properly, but neither would you if you could feel the stitches pull with every bite) but, oddly, it didn’t kill me. Rumours of my resulting demise have been greatly exaggerated.

 

I appreciate it’s the time of year when the lifestyle change idea is firmly set at fever pitch, but what you really should be thinking about is what *you* want to change for *you*. One size does not, despite rumours to the contrary, fit all. If you want to get fit, find an exercise you enjoy which suits you, no matter anybody else’s sneering or know-better attitude. You won’t continue with something unless you enjoy it, so that should be your foremost criteria of selection.

 

If you want to make changes to your lifestyle, be guided by what makes you feel good. If it isn’t yoga, for instance, then I promise you that’s absolutely fine. I realise I keep bashing yoga, but while I’m certainly not against retrieving my DVD from the mutant dust bunnies and giving it a try at some point, it’s probably the “fix-it” suggestion I grow most weary of hearing. 

 

In short, in fitness as with all things in life, do what suits you and makes you happy. Sod everyone else.

 

If the lifestyle fascists don’t like it, stick copies of The Healthy Dead everywhere in eye line. As Mr Erikson was good enough to warn them, they might indeed go blind.  

 

Settling down with more Tales of Bauchelain and Korbal Broach, and wishing you all many spoons xxx





King of Fools

We are never gonna be like you,
We don't follow - King of fools,
You are the blind who lead the blind.
You are the King of Fools.

Edguy - King of Fools

Diet and exercise – the two things most likely to irritate me as suggestions for how to make Petunia behave. Simple, obvious and perpetually ineffective.

The problem for me is two-fold. The assumption that everything that is wrong with a person’s health can be fixed with a mixture of the two is both tiresome and in some ways quite rude – there’s an unspoken assumption there that the person is too stupid to have thought of those things themselves and therefore is wholly responsible for their own problems. That also bolsters uninformed opinions regarding patients “attention seeking” and that they just refuse to attempt to get better and are in fact happy being ill.

Yes, we thoroughly enjoy it, and personally if Petunia were tangible I’d marry her, I love her that much.

(My lollygagging is becoming a real issue. Image from Tumblr, source unknown.)

(If I ever say that to you I suggest you duck, because eventually it’s likely that it’ll be swiftly followed up by something being thrown.)

So, I ask of all the pseudo-experts out there, what should I do when having a clean, healthy diet and doing regular exercise don’t work and in fact causes as many problems as they solve?

I eat pretty plainly in order to try and calm my insides down. Most of the time I aim for a good balance of protein and vegetables and a reduction in carbohydrates in a meal – I don’t cut out altogether, but I do cut down. I don’t drink because of the dual reasons of medication interaction and the fact the Interstitial Cystitis side of Petunia’s personality would no doubt explode if I did. I drink plenty of water (too much at times) and I don’t drink caffeine during the day. I don’t snack much except for fruit and mostly keep sweet things for weekends only. In essence I am pretty damn well behaved on the diet front.

I also exercise as much as I’m able. Due to my recent dip that hasn’t been as much as I’d like but it is slowly coming back and I hope to over time work up to the point where I’m working out three or four times a week again. This doesn’t include general walking about such as walking to work. I’ve just purchased a couple of Jillian Michaels’ more cardio-driven exercise DVDs to give myself a bit of a change and I’m hoping in a few months I’ll be back to being able to take this amount of exercise regularly once more. This will obviously be made easier as we move into Spring and things start to warm up too.

The second problem however is that this has become habit forming. There’s nothing wrong with that in itself, except that I’m a little concerned just how much worse I feel when I need to have an evening off. I’ve spoken about giving myself the evening off as a gift so I don’t feel like I’m just being lazy, and this is mostly effective. However it doesn’t change the fact that I physically feel sluggish and lethargic whenever I’m too tired or sore to exercise, and I don’t have an unrealistic idea that one day I will banish this problem. I have Fibromyalgia – I’m never going to be able to keep the routine all the time.

I wrote a post some time back about what I considered to be the negative and dangerous aspects of the “fitspo” fad – a wealth of articles, memes, diet and exercise plans constantly telling you that if you aren’t following exactly, you’re weak, lazy, fat and an altogether useless sack of flesh.

The thing is just avoiding fitspo related websites doesn’t keep you away from this sort of attitude. It's more than a little disturbing how quickly I’ve started to feel lousy in myself when I can’t complete my exercises as planned.

(Whilst I realise it's not all bad, I am predominantly very anti-fitspo, because as illustrated it can be sodding dangerous. Image from pinterest.com)

There is something very insidious about being at the top of a slippery slope where your self-worth becomes completely tied into your diet and how much exercise you do. Constantly being told it is the way forward (even when you know it isn’t) will wear anyone down eventually, and it’s surprisingly easy to start to question yourself when faced with a relentless onslaught of pseudo-expertise.

Sometimes, it does just feel like far too much effort to keep explaining yourself and once you reach that point you start to wonder if it’s too much effort to explain because you are in fact incorrect. The pseudo-experts start to sound like they possibly make sense.

The slippery slope I just mentioned, do you know what is possibly waiting at the bottom of there? At the point when the apparent army of inherently arrogant “experts” and their unasked for opinions have won their battle with their victim's self worth?

A variety of different mental illnesses, self esteem problems and anxieties which tear people's lives apart.

I repeat myself a lot on this blog in terms of the topic of "think before you speak", but it really can be of vital importance. If even one person takes that thought away from this blog, then I'll feel like I've achieved something. A few would be lovely, and lots would be phenomenal. In a generation of trolling and keyboard warriors where people seem to feel that their opinion is the only important and worthy part of any discusion, it's a lesson that only becomes more necessary. The art of civilised discussion has seemingly long since disappeared into myth for most.

There are very few scenarios where you "have" to say something, so when you've ruled out necessity consider this:

Just because you can say it doesn't mean you should.

Wishing you all many spoons xxx

My Mad Fat and Frankly Wonderful Diary

If you’re unfamiliar (I’m unsure of its availability in other countries, although apparently there’s a US version in the pipeline) My Mad Fat Diary is E4’s comic drama about the highs and lows of being a teenager in the height of the Cool Britannia of the mid-90’s, and the beginning of the second series has just aired in the UK.

Why am I telling you this? I picked up the first series all in one go during my period of temping interlaced with unemployment when I first moved to York. I expected it to be something which would pass an afternoon without expending too much brain power, be mildly entertaining in the process and leave it at that.

What I found in actual fact was a show with an almost revolutionary take on mental illness and overall health and appearance.

(Image from fanpop.com)

The main character Rae Earl is an overweight girl who in the first episode has just been discharged after a stay in a psychiatric ward to treat a variety of psychological conditions which have led her to self harming and binge eating. She also suffers from self image problems and a lack of confidence surrounding her weight.

Something else – Rae Earl is a real person. The show is based on My Mad Fat Teenage Diary – a book written by Earl using extracts from her teenage diary entries.

I had initially avoided the program when it first ran on television because Channel 4 and its group of channels aren’t exactly known for being sensitive in their handling of various topics like these. I will honestly hold my hand up and expected it to be a rather cruel car crash of a programme.

How wrong could I have been? Aside from Rae we also meet the other young people who live in the psychiatric ward, most notably Tix who suffers from an eating disorder, over exercising and an undisclosed problem which leads to her lashing out when touched by anyone or when she is feeling stressed.

At no point are any of these things trivialised, looked down upon or given to be anything less than the serious illnesses they are. On no occasion does My Mad Fat Diary make any distinction between physical and mental illnesses – the characters are ill, and no further categorisation is needed.

There’s something of the female equivalent of a mixture of Adrian Mole and The Inbetweeners about the show, and Sharon Rooney should win something for her performance in the lead role of Rae because she’s nothing short of fantastic.

(Probably the core message of the entire show. Also I should probably give you a language warning, because teenage girls are both rude and at times disgusting. I know, because I was one.)

Whilst the show does a brilliant job of exploring the consequences of mental ill health on young people (particularly anxiety and depression), I think one of its strengths is in its “everybody has problems” approach to the portrayal of adolescence. Within five minutes of meeting the character of Chloe I rolled my eyes and assumed instantly I was to be whacked over the head yet again with the hammer of “traditionally attractive people have horrible personalities and never have any problems whatsoever.” Oh how wrong I was.

The pretty and thin “popular” girls have their own insecurity problems too, and this is explored yet more in the opening of the second season. But lo! The male teenagers have issues too – the homosexual character of Archie’s desperate attempts to remain “under the radar” when the group progress from secondary school to college are disturbingly poignant in this respect.

There's no "You're a healthy weight, so you can't have an eating disorder", or "But you're attractive, you can't have insecurities."

My Mad Fat Diary deserves so much praise for both its effective handling of mental illness and the consequences they have on peoples lives and for its point blank refusal to play games of stereotype or comparison. It doesn’t treat the mentally ill characters as yet another statistic – they are all fully fleshed out and realised as human beings.  In short, it accepts that teenagedom was a scary place for us all.

I think there’s something to be learned from that.

I really recommend giving the show a try if you haven't seen it yet. I'm reliably informed that it is all available on Youtube!

Wishing you all many spoons xxx

"I'm not like you and I don't wanna be...."

I’ve been meaning to write a post about the exercise I do to help with my Fibromyalgia for quite some time, but I’m going to hijack it as something most irksome links in with it and frankly I’m in the mood for a rant. I’ll post the intended subject another time.

I’ll let you in on a little secret: I absolutely can’t abide this current fad of “fitspo” or “fitspiration”. It couldn’t crawl under a stone and die quickly enough for me.

Now that might seem like a bit of a juxtaposition coming from someone who exercises regularly for the benefit of her overall health, but I shall explain. Firstly, I do appreciate that there is a certain brand of fitspo imaging which can be positive, and as I’ve said before if it isn’t broken then there’s no need to fix it and different things work for different people.

However, my distaste is reserved for the vast majority of the material which isn’t beneficial and can in fact be downright frightening. You’ve probably seen some of this even if you don’t recognise the term – a photo of a professional fitness model or athlete, cleverly lit if not airbrushed out of all reality and covered over by an “inspirational” quote.

My problem with the vast majority of this rubbish is that if it isn’t telling you that you’re not good enough or making you feel guilty for not spending every minute of every day exercising to the limit or carefully measuring out your super clean meal plan, it’s giving misinformed and sometimes dangerously bad advice.

I’m going to paraphrase this example as there are a few different versions “Crawling/sobbing/vomiting is acceptable, quitting is unacceptable.” If you’re actually exercising to the point that any of those rather unhappy things occur, then you’re pushing your body beyond its limits and you’re also massively increasing the risk of an injury.

(A version of the above. Oh, with added blood. Even better *sigh*)

Your body has those limits for a reason, it would be wise to listen to it and not risk further problems just because you’re being sold the idea that you’re somehow weak or not putting the requisite effort and dedication in unless you reduce yourself to a nervous wreck each and every time you work out. It might be disguised under a veneer of “inspiration”, but it’s actually both demeaning and insidious in its preying on insecurity over body image with those ever so unrealistic photos as a backdrop.

What fitspo is is yet another layer of imperfection placed on top of all the other things we’re told we should feel insecure about. Go out and buy our expensive workout gear, because you’re not good enough. Go and get an expensive gym membership, because you should feel guilty if you don’t.

It’s size zero with a protein shake and a sports bra, and it will end the same miserable way with plenty of people who are crippled by their insecurities and poor body image because they don’t look like the people in the photos.

This sort of thing can be even more toxic when you suffer from a chronic condition which prevents freedom of exercise. You’re already “just lazy” if you can’t exercise after all, so how are you supposed to compete against all this mass market insecurity peddling?

The answer is you don’t and you ignore it.

I think the question at the heart of this to ask yourself is why indeed you want to exercise and are doing so?

For me, I was always active and discovered Pilates about six months before beginning to have problems. It was something I could do cheaply via DVD in my own home and when I developed Fibromyalgia it remained a form of low impact exercise which I could tailor to suit. It’s very good for flexibility and stretching, which is key for me and my tendency towards appalling stiffness. I enjoy it and if I’m careful it can take the edge off some of the pain associated with Fibromyalgia.

My point is that you do it for you. Whatever form the exercise takes and however little you are able to do, make it a choice you make for your own enjoyment and well being. If you “clean up” or change your diet, do it for the same reasons.

The peddling of one body type and one diet as correct for all is distinctly unhelpful as well as being plain nonsense – body type is in some part down to genetics regardless of how much work you put in, and a lot of conditions prevent the consumption of certain food and drinks and so mess up that perfect diet you’re being sold. What if you can’t eat enough of the nutrients you need because of your illness and are limited to the formulated drink products doctors prescribe?

Different forms of exercise also have different impacts and affect people differently, but it’s yet another thing that gets watered down into this idea of one correct and “best” form that everyone should participate in. One fitspo image I came across was someone posting the picture below over and over again to promote the fact she’d taken up weightlifting:

(I realise in some contexts this is a lighthearted joke, but not in the context of oneup-manship. Image from crossfitriverside.com)

Charming. What if zumba is the only thing that helps your particular condition, or it constitutes one of the only forms of exercise you can manage? What if you can’t actually exercise at all? Does that make you any less worthy a human being than someone who spends hours of each day in a gym?

Can people not see what utter madness this is?

We come back to the same point – one size NEVER fits all, and particularly not bridging the gap between healthy and ill with the myriad of difficulties illness can present. We’re also into the territory of my favourite comparison game – if you’re insulting one body type, one exercise form or one diet in comparison to a different one to make it appealing, then you’re helping absolutely nobody and you’re contributing to the underlying problem.

I personally think you should do whatever you need to do to “feel” healthy. That will probably be a little different for everyone, and in the case of chronic illnesses the difference will probably be quite substantial. There’s no right answer or magic formula, it’s something that’s as individual as you are and comes down to what makes you feel good and what constitutes you feeling at your best.

The thing to strive for in my view is to be in a place where you feel happy and as healthy as possible, and you are doing whatever you can manage for enjoyment and to promote good well being overall. Weightlifting every day? Brilliant! Doing ten minutes of gentle therapy once a week? Wonderful! If getting out of bed at all was your biggest achievement? Great!

Sitting with your feet up and eating cake because that’s all you feel like doing today? Even better*!

If it involves accepting you look nothing like the unrealistic and airbrushed people in the “fitspiration” images and living your life your way and not the way they try to tell you to, then I say good for you.

(Fixes everything worth fixing. Image from bakecookeat.blogspot.com)

*My friend and I have a saying which we often repeat to one another when we’re fed up of what our bodies are doing to us – if it can’t be fixed by cake, it’s not worth fixing. Amen to that!

Nobody Expects the Spanish Inquisition!

.... and particularly not over their diet.

("Too inquisitive! Should have been the Spanish Casual Chat!"
"Circle", Eddie Izzard. Image from auntiemomo.com)

As we all know I put a fair bit of time into keeping abreast of things going on in the chronic illness community. Yes dear readers, I was one of those irritating children who always did their homework and even sometimes dared to enjoy doing so. Old habits and all!

Something I’ve seen a terrifying amount of is people (usually incredibly courageous in using the website’s anonymity function) expressing the opinion that chronic ill health only happens as a result of what the person is eating.

That’s it everyone, the mystery is solved! If we all stop eating chocolate, bread and milk we’ll be cured! Sounds legitimate to me, I can’t wait to start feeling bet.....

... Anybody else seeing the problem?

Wait, you mean the rather colossal and looming one that goes something like don’t you think we might have tried that already?

To take this out of the chronic illness sphere for a moment, this touches on something I strongly believe in. Nobody else has the right to comment on what you eat or on the effect that has on your physical shape and health. Your diet is entirely your choice and I firmly believe it is therefore nobody else’s business. I’m sure we’ve all seen the sort of stupid comments which accompany photos on the internet – usually along the lines of “go eat a sandwich” or “who ate all the pies” dependent on how the victim doesn’t fit the incredibly narrow version of normality those commenting possess.

We even have memes backing it up. Hands up if you’ve seen the “Real men like curves, only dogs go for bones” one? The fashion and media industries are constantly piling on the pressure to be thin, the masses cry. Now I'm not saying for a moment that isn't true, but apparently this makes it OK to pour bile and vitriol upon thin people.

(Good old Philosoraptor.)

Can you honestly sit there and justify that one is any better or worse than the other? One body type has been demonised so now the demons are fighting back by inflicting the exact same thing on the body type opposite to their own. And so the dance goes on, and on, and on.

Here’s a novel idea: how about we accept everybody is different, that their diets are different, and leave each other alone?

Bringing this back on track in terms of chronic illness, in doing some research on the role of diet I found lots of references to “Leaky Gut Syndrome.” A more detailed look can be found here but to all intents and purposes LGS is increased permeability of the lining of the intestines, leading to not only toxins escaping into the body, but to malabsorption of essential nutrients which also escape. The theory goes that because a large proportion of the body’s immune system is located in and around the digestive system, this leakage causes inflammation and could be a factor in a lot of autoimmune problems.

Amongst the conditions listed as potentially linked to LGS we find Fibromyalgia, CFS (ME), Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Inflammatory Bowel Disease, Arthritis, Eczema and other conditions which are either lacking a clear pathology or in the least are poorly understood in terms of why they appear.

Despite my opening comments, I’ve never been against the idea that diet (and particular foods more so than others) have an effect on overall health. My problem is with other people passing comment as if coming from a place of superior knowledge, and as much as I hate to pedal negative stereotypes here on TRB it is usually the perfectly healthy who seem to feel the need to do it. 

On a personal note with the question of diet I recently decided to cut bread out of my diet during the week and allow a treat at weekends. In essence I've swopped my usual sandwich lunch for either vegetable batons and houmous or salads. The next step will be to go onto gluten free pasta as opposed to the regular product. I don’t have Coeliac Disease but I am fairly sure gluten is becoming a problem for my bowel nonetheless.

I’m excluding slowly in stages because my gut takes umbrage if I do anything quickly – several extremely painful encounters with this problem have taught me to take the “slowly slowly” approach. I’m going to do this over the course of some months and then see if I’m feeling any different. Eventually I plan to make the same attempt with dairy, and I still fully intend to save up for the food intolerance tests I’ve made mention of previously.

Having a quick read of the list of problem foods on the website for LGS, I was very soon struck with the idea that eating would become very boring indeed were I to keep to it exactly. Speaking for myself, I enjoy my food and I don’t want to lose that enjoyment. I’m willing to make attempts but I won’t go the whole hog and turn eating into a chore.

(A simplified representation of the link between LGS and chronic conditions. Courtesy of leakygutcure.com)

Given the views I’ve expressed over the judging of weight, diet and body type I’m of the opinion that there’s quite enough people with an unhealthy attitude to food – whether it be for themselves, societal pressures or the reactions of the people around them – without me engendering a poor view of my own.

And that decision is nobody else’s damned business.

Have you made any dietary changes? Do you have any comments on Leaky Gut Syndrome or on the opinions of others as to the role of diet in chronic ill health? Please feel free to add your comments below, I’d love to open up some discussion with this topic. 

Wishing you all many spoons xxx