Oh, no. That’s totally normal. I think that happens to most, if not all girls. You could probably discuss it with somebody on this blog:
http://fuckperiods.tumblr.com
It’s an advice blog specifically dedicated to period issues and stories.
xo, Lilly.
Comparing MyPlate to farm subsidies
If the USDA says that vegetables and fruits should make up half of our diets, why does less than 1 percent of its food subsidies go to farmers who grow produce?
Drink 1/8 lemon and water every morning.
Why? Drinking lemon water helps you maintain a higher metabolism, fights hunger cravings, helps you lose weight faster and boosts your immune system, to name just a few benefits!
PS. It is recommended to drink the lemon water hot.
A Deficiency of Vitamins Can Actually Have Serious Health Consequences.: Symptoms of deficiency of...
My last name happens to be Popp, so you’d think I would drink alot of that carmel colored goodness that lurks in every vending machine, and food joint across America. I do drink pop (or soda for some of you folks), I enjoy it from time to time but its has become more of a “reward” than being a regular staple in my diet. Soft-drinks have been under much scrutiny over the last few years by many health officials because these drinks are seen as excess calories, especially amongst kids. Really, they are. Most sugar sweetened beverages contain around 150 kcals per serving, and if consumed in excess over an entire year can lead to around 10-12 lbs of weight gain just from these drinks alone!
In a recent study in adult males, the consumption of sugar-sweetened (or non-diet) beverages was highly correlated with an increased risk for the development of type-2 diabetes. Type-2 diabetes is a very serious disease, and one that is preventable! Type-2 diabetes results in your body pretty much becoming insulin resistant, that is to say that the insulin you produced has NO EFFECT on lowering your blood sugar levels (insulin is released after a meal to decrease your blood glucose levels). The result: you have very high glucose levels that can lead to a whole cohort of issues.
So, sugar-sweetened beverages are correlated with risk for developing type-2 diabetes, anything else? Yes, the study also found an inverse relationship between coffee drinkers and type-2 diabetes. Coffee is low in sugar so it would make sense that they are inversely related. They also found that artificially sweetened drinks—those lower in calories and sugar—were not associated with an increase risk for type 2 diabetes. This would also make sense because a lower sugar, lower calorie drink would not have that great of an effect on insulin secretion, similar to coffee. But, they happened to analyze another group of studies on beverage consumption and type-2 diabetes. These studies found a positive correlation with artificially sweetened drinks and diabetes (opposite of what this study found). They mentioned that artificially sweetened drinks might actually stimulate individuals to increase consumption of sweet foods at subsequent meals, but this was seen more as an idea rather than something that was proven true in the study. I mention this because it raises an interesting thought. Have you ever had a bite of a cookie, or ice cream and immediately wanted more? I am sure you have, we all have. Its so hard to put sweet foods down! The observation that artificially sweetened drinks stimulates an increase in the consumption of sweet foods plays off this idea—we want more of a good thing! Sweet foods have found to stimulate the pleasure center in the brain, sugar increases a hormone called dopamine—the pleasure hormone (Sex, and some drugs (like cocaine) also stimulate dopamine).
This study was interesting because it raised some intriguing points. The sample population was limited (white, adult males), which does not represent the entire population as a whole. But, it can provide some information between increased consumption of sugar sweetened beverages, and possibly even artificially sweetened beverages, and there role in the development of a preventable disease.
Try and cut back on the ever-so sugar sweet beverages—they’re not so sweet on your waistline! And personally, I think these drinks are okay but in moderation. Consume diet, tea, coffee, favored water or any zero-calorie drinks if you can.
Collin
Sweet Cherries Diet: Cherries also contain high levels of nutrients such potassium, and...Maize Vitamins and Nutritional Benefits: Corn cleanses the digestive system is useful for...This post is going to be about the long road it took for me to get proper care, care I only started receiving last year.
For most people with bipolar disorder it can take up to ten years. One in four are lucky enough to get it in less than three.
According to Dr Wes Burgess in his Bipolar Handbook: “A recent study showed that almost 70% of bipolar patients had been misdiagnosed more than 3 times before receiving their correct diagnosis”.
I was misdiagnosed three times. Depression. Anxiety. Hormonal imblance. Voodoo Curse.
It took me three years to get a correct diagnosis.
It took me three more years to get treatment for it.
I’m going to refrain from making this entry really triggering because honestly I think that anyone who has fought with this kind of bullshit could find some help in reading this. That if you’ve stopped and given up you need to look and go “Damn, maybe I should try again.”
Keep going and don’t stop, because even if you get proper treatment you will be burdened from shit from all sides. It’s not just mental illness it’s for anyone who has suffered from a chronic lifelong disease.
This is just my personal experience and I just hope it echoes among some people. I have been worse off than some, much much more fortunate than most.
When I look back to when I was a child I can remember early niggling signs that something was wrong.
I thought about things too hard. Wondered if people didn’t like me. Little moments were blown up, VERY, little moments. I focused on them and I got angry and then I got overwhelmed and I cried. I cried a lot. I was put out in the hall for crying.
I was asked by teachers “Why” was I crying.
The answer is the same as it was then: “I don’t know.”
I learned to get some grip on it. I would pull myself away from the situation if I could. Choke back tears in the hallway or bathroom. Move on.
I learned that crying was bad because it made other people uncomfortable. While some can solve this emotional issue by warming up, making the crying stop through gentle words, soft gestures- I was not lucky enough to have these people as my parents.
I was punished for crying. Screamed at to stop. Why was I crying. WHY?
They did not see the emotions whirriing in my head they did not see the negative thoughts repeat themselves at a mile a minute. They did not see my mind become an ouroboros of self destructive thoughts.
It was just me. Crying.
It got worse through puberty. Other symptoms reared their ugly head. I don’t think I’m ever going to talk about some of the stuff that happened then.
One day I found myself in a counselers office, sobbing almost uncontrolably. Trying to calm myself while the woman on the other side stared at me wide eyed, my panic causing HER to panic. She called my mom and told her “YOUR CHILD NEEDS TO GO TO THERAPY.” The way she worded it just made it sound like a punishment.
Get this kid outta here! I don’t know what the fuck to do with em! Gettin tears all over the damn place!
I walked home and I cried home and I couldn’t remember what set me off originally or why it even mattered. I was just a bundle of mixed up brain chemistry, my mind sloshing and crackling.
My parents told me, once again, that I was just a very emotional and sensitive child and I shouldn’t listen to that woman I mean my grades were good I don’t need therapy!
My grades were good because I didn’t find High School particularly demanding. To put it in context: My highschool just graduated my brother, who did almost nothing the entire year and had F’s almost all across the board. The fear of graduating High School was almost non existant.
Then there was college. An art school that was 72 hours a week of anxiety.
I did not do well.
My symptoms exploded. It is not uncommon for people in their 20’s to get a real taste of their mental illness, because that is when things start to get really hard. When we get a taste of the amount of responsibility it is to be an adult.
I was diagnosed with depression.
The zoloft they gave me did help with the depression but it sent me spiraling into mania. People liked me more because I was “happy”. I was happy until it dove back into an aggravated mania again. Then I was angry. Then not only was I running over with hate, I had the energy to act on it.
“Jeez what a bitch!”
Then I crashed and became bedridden and sad.
“If only if you weren’t so lazy, if you tried harder.”
Those calm “normal” moments between symptoms were becoming rarer and rarer.
“This is hormonal you know, maybe if you ate right and exercised and took vitamins you would feel better!”
When I was nervous I ate, and I ate a lot. I gained a lot of weight. Sometimes I would stop eating, then I gained more from such inconsistent dietary patterns. Sometimes I didn’t want to leave my bed because of overwhelming depression.
My brain was causing my body to fall apart. It was causing everything to fall apart.
In ‘07 after having such a severe panic attack that my nose bled violently, I decided I wanted to see a therapist.
Six months later.
I saw a therapist.
I was too frightened of the idea that I was a failure, that I was sick, that I was wrong, that I would have to see a “shrink”.
I am lucky to be blessed with a wonderful therapist. A warm, kind, therapist. A therapist who took someone into her office who was crying and shaking and calmed them and offered them options and didn’t react with fear like so many had before. A therapist who will perform sessions over the phone if I am too upset to get out of bed. A therapist who will speak to my parents and explain to them what they are dealing with.
My first psychiatrist?
No.
My first psychiatrist was an oddly cold man who really didn’t care about what I had to say. One who made the same mistakes that many have before and looked at me, my weight, and gave me things that might help my WEIGHT and not my HEAD.
He put me on things that made bipolar people agitated. I told him that I had been diagnosed. Why was he doing this?
I attempted suicide in ‘07.
I was sent to the hospital for three days and the amount it cost was so staggering that I didn’t go back to see my therapist or psychiatrist (nevermind that I didn’t really want to see my psych anyway)
I stayed on the medications that did nothing, in fact they made me worse.
I trundled along. I dealt with it.
Then another bad person came into my life, another awful person that shoved my head into the dirt and used my hardships against me.
“You fucking loser!”
“Good luck making anything of yourself!”
“You’re so fucking lazy!”
I had a psychotic episode.
I finally returned to my warm therapist and she was disturbed to find me in that state and she insisted that I was going to see her every single week until things got stable because if things didn’t I would have to go straight to a hospital or I might die or I might kill.
So I got treatment. She talked me through it. I found a better psychiatrist. A man who specializes in bipolar disorder. He is warm he is kind he genuinely cares about my life. He carefully balances the medications that keep me going.
I don’t know why it has to be so hard to find people like this.
Doctors that aren’t shitty, who care.
I see so many people suffering who have stopped seeking treatment because their doctors didn’t care. Because their doctors spoke down to them. Because the people who should be helping them are just adding to yet another in a list of people who just don’t give a fuck, and would rather blame you for making THEM uncomfortable.
So let me just briefly stop and say that if you have the option to go see someone. PLEASE see someone. Do your research. Get some help. I don’t care if it’s a mental illness or a physical chronic condition just go out and do your research and call someone that can help you make your life a little less shitty. I’m only twenty-five and I feel like all my early opportunities have been destroyed because I did not have proper care. My story may be shocking to some but I am LUCKY. I have lived with people who have suffered and will most likely never get treatment.
Treatment isn’t easy.
I had to take a lot of different medications to find the ones that worked. Each persons brain chemistry is different. I had to take things that made me go up and down. Fogged me up. Made me too sick to eat. Gave me the shakes. I had to take up to eight different medications at one point.
Amounts were varied. Times I had to take medications were varied. Everything was slightly adjusted each week.
It got better but it got better slowly.
I didn’t realize that I was “cured” until one day my mother announced to the family that she had cancer.
Of course I was stunned.
I was overwhelmed.
But I did not curl up into that same depressed ball. I did not attack myself. I could comfort her and I could help my family and that is the greatest gift I have received from all this. I am no longer in pain and I am no longer spreading my pain. I told my mom that despite how much shit we’ve been through and how much fighting has happened and that while I don’t always agree with her and we will always be very different people I love the hell out of her.
One week later we found out that the cancer was a misdiagnosis. I was relieved and I was so happy that this was only an emotional “fire drill”. That I really was ready for the worse. That life wasn’t going to crush me.
While we still have tiny ups and downs my mother and I have gotten along almost perfectly since the incident and I would not trade that for the world. She has come with me to therapy, she understands my symptoms now, and when I am being manic she no longer acts with anger but with “Hey are you taking care of yourself like you should?” Then I stop, I think, then I remember that I drank a bunch of caffeine. Whoops!
Treatment has been the best thing for me but it will never be easy.
This morning I missed work, work that I was VERY lucky to have. Work that I REALLY need right now.
Because I was suffering from lithium withdrawl.
I have been going through it the last few days and I’m shaky and I won’t eat and I can’t sleep and little whirs of thought race through my brain. This article? I’ve already thought about it, milled over it, written it in my head about 50 times.
I cannot stop. I’m manic.
I did attempt to pick up my medication. I am very good about making sure it’s refilled properly. I do not like being off medication because I don’t like the withdrawals and the symptoms tumbling back even worse then before. I like feeling good.
So when I came to my pharmacy. They didn’t have it. They did not have the most common medication available for the mentally ill.
Call back tomorrow.
Maybe it will be in.
It will definately be in in two weeks though!
Cool. Two weeks. Right before I leave for a vacation I’ve been planning, scrimping, and saving for for four months. A potentially very very stressful vacation.
Fantastic
This has happened before. It seems to have happened with every single medication I’m on. I take four different kinds consistantly. Four in the morning, three at night.
Then there are pills for pain, for anxiety, for sleeplessness. They are to be taken as needed.
My road to recovery is never ending because there is no recovery. Every day I just learn to make it a little bit easier. I learn how to deal with the crap that life throws at me. Inconsiderate people, shitty doctors, not sleeping properly. I try not to dwell on it. Most of the time I don’t think about my illness beyond “did you take your pills yet?”.
Sometimes being on treatment is obnoxious. Sometimes you will meet people who are inconsiderate. Sometimes you will be so so tired of having to take pills and to go to appointments and get blood drawn.
But it’s worth it. Because if you don’t your symptoms will grow and overwhelm you. They will hobble your life and suck the joy out of it. You will be robbed of so many opportunities.
If you can’t get treatment. Seek alternative methods. Look up things that, while they probably can’t cure, they can make things easier. Hold on. Understand your symptoms so you have a better idea of how to control them.
Do not let this beast devour you from the inside out.
[Flash 10 is required to watch video.]
Video Blog - 12 / 06 / 11
Just another simple blog. Just letting you know what I’m up to and a short discussion of the book i’m reading ‘Run Your Butt Off’.
Hope you’re all great! Now… F1 TIME!!!