Farmers market

The concrete was slick with rain. Yellow leaves shimmered from underneath my sneakers; golden, treasure, everything precious. I walked along the length of the southern park blocks, not fast; very slow. Crows dipped into my path, settling like a heavy foreshadowing just ahead. One even walked a few feet with me, keeping time with my steps. The sea gulls have come inland for the winter. They cry over head and pick at trash with the pigeons. However, hey don't seem to be too friendly with the Crows, who keep their distance.

I like going to the market when its been raining, everything is bright and vibrant and there are less people, traveling with my growing bag is easier.

A few feet before the entrance is a man who plays the trumpet, a sparse lonely, andante and sad. He once played in a mariachi band and the absence of the other instruments hangs heavy in the wet trees. He only has nickles in his cup. 

By now the trees have switched from Birch to mostly Maple, and the flaming foliage covers the grounds like a carpet, magnificent and priceless in value. Red, red orange, red yellow, even one whose red was advancing from the inside out, chasing the yellow out to the still green tips. Autumnal rainbow. I would have collected them and come home with an armload but I was worried a dog might have peed on them. So, I let them be.

Precisely at the entrance is a man selling The Street Beat. He's always there, today wearing a knit hat with a pom pom ontop because its turned cold. "Yet another high pressure sales pitch!" He always says, except for today. "The Koch brothers would buy this paper! Don't be like them! Get one on your way out!" I bought one then and there. He has a poem printed on page two. "I wrote it on my honeymoon" he said regretfully. 

I stop at the same three booths I always stop at. No samples for me today, I try not to do that every week. I bought a coffee, which was a mistake because its hard to juggle pounds of produce and a hot beverage on your own, but I wanted it and I'm read The Awakening by Kate Chopin and it felt appropriate to give into a whim. 

"Its the Babushkas!" He said as he ducked behind the second register, bearing coffee for his booth partner. We had been chatting while she tallied my burdock and carrots, and stopped to quickly survey each other, a moments hesitation before we saw he was teasing us with our scarves wrapped around our heads. Turns out we'd both lost our favorite beanies and had to make do in the chill. I walked home, warmed with coffee and the idea of me as a Babushka bearing produce, wearing grandpa pants.

I took this picture of myself with my produce bag, but it doesn't do the weight of it justice. Zoey, trying to devise a way onto the new plant shelf. I haven't taken a picture of myself using the timer in some months, which I feel explains my headlessness.

My bag was bursting with radishes, carrots, butternut squash (mmm soup forever) onions and more. So much more. I've been buying so many different squashes my cupboards are beginning to overflow. I still have a sweet meat (hate the name) to try, as well as a mystery one I bought from Persephone's booth at the recommendation of the dude in the Davy Crocket hat.


(This feels silly to be writing like this. I'm mostly just trying to remember. Remember what I saw, remember how, exactly to write. If these seems trite, or vain, or tired, I apologize. Don't tell me. I'll get better with more frequent use.)

-A.H.

An Explanation

I was writing something else entirely, when it occurred to me that I never actually sat down and wrote about what *happened*. I realized I keep talking about this Anxiety Pit without really telling the story of how I got down there in the first place.

To tell you the truth, I was never really anywhere else.

I've struggled with depression and anxiety throughout my life, starting around age seven or eight. From then on it became a formidable obstacle to my every day life, boulders in the forms of phobias, depression, and panic blocked my path. It was difficult for me to leave the house, and almost impossible to nurture my relationships with my friends. Typical parts of highschool social life were denied me by my fears and forebodings; things sleepovers were almost impossible. I developed an Eating Disorder (anorexia, non-purging bulimia) as a means to cope with and manage my phobic, anxious, depressed feelings. This is basically the most brief overview of my mental health that I can give. My mental health story is one full of ups and downs, better times and worse times, and I wont go much more historically in depth here, though I'd be happy to answer questions.

What happened last year? I tried to live in San Francisco and it was there, through no fault of the City's, that things began to unravel. We left the bay in defeat when the person who was about to be our landlady attempted to make off with our money and leave us houseless. We returned home to the open arms of our two dearest friends who let us live in their backroom. It was the actual, most perfect living situation I've ever been in; full of laughter and empty of passive aggressive negativity. In spite of this positive beauty, I sensed an eerie change within the first few days. It was a nameless, shaky, shiftiness in my foundation.

It wasn't until we all went to Hollywood for a relaxing, outdoor concert that I was able to name it. It was there that I had a panic attack that left me in the fetal position in a parking garage. It felt like forever. Like whole days came and when while I was in that concrete, probably piss stained corner. In reality it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes, a half hour tops. I was embarrassed, and I felt so so ashamed. In the days and weeks that followed I found myself unable to go to work, and when I did, I found myself unable to stay for the full day scheduled. I can't fully wrap my brain around how fortunate I was to have a job that was understanding enough to make space for me in the place that I was in.

Before long, I was unable to leave the house at all. I has hardly able to leave my bed. I needed my husband to escort me to the bathroom and wait outside so I could pee. Bathing was even harder. Cooking or engaging in the household was impossible. Everything felt dim and dingy and desperate. Something needed to change.

And that's where these writings come in. I talk about my forays into medication here and here.
There isn't a whole lot on this blog, and what is here is sporadic and choppy. And now that I've written this post, I feel like everything is kind of out of order. Its bothering that this isn't a chronological story, but rather one full of flashbacks that disrupt the readers flow. Readers? I don't think there are any of those. And that's okay.

But if you are out there, and if you're reading this, thank you.
-A.H.

Amino-Acids; repairing neural pathways, building new ones, and finding the courage to step out my front door

Step one; I crawled out of bed, and got myself to the doctor to get some Xanax. If you've never had anxiety, it will be difficult to comprehend the super human strength that took. I could barely speak through my appointment, but the doctor was sweet and prescribed me meds and gave me thorough instructions on how to take them and what to expect.

I was petrified of taking them. I'm emetophobic. The side effect of "nausea or vomiting" sends me into a tailspin. I took only a quarter of a pill and I sobbed and sobbed in the fetal position, waiting. Just waiting. After some time, when it was obvious I'd passed the point of danger and could relax, I took some amino acids and ate some toast. What happened? Relief.

I only took the Xanax for a week. Seven days exactly. I still carry it with me. The two halves of a pre-cut pill still rattle in my backpack. I have my Lexapro prescription filled. Just in case. Its there if I need it. I never took the Lexapro because taking something long term made me uncomfortable, and I wanted to try things naturally. With the Xanax, I'd still be able to see through to how my body was responding to natural treatments; with the Lexapro, something I'd have to taper on and off of, it would be like a thick fog over everything. I wouldn't be able to see how my body responded. So I decided that I had the space to do an experiment. I was living with friends, working at a job that was being very understanding and open minded, I had a husband who worked enough to support us. Not everyone has this opportunity. I'm very lucky that I was able to take advantage of these things.

I want to say before I begin that I'm not anti medication. At all. Whatever makes you feel functional and safe, do that thing. Stay on your meds. Seriously. Taking medication does not make you weak; there is no shame. I'm so proud of you.

This is my journey of healing my brain through amino acids.

I take Twinlab Amino Fuel Mass (not lean mass. I'm going for bulk lol) You can buy it in the body building section or online from websites like iHerb.com. Marcos is credited with finding it. In fact, he spends the time on line researching and finds a lot of the things which have helped me through this process. He came across someone reviewing this product, saying that it helped them through they're agoraphobia and hypochondria (two key issues for me) and that after a certain amount of time (i don't remember how long they said, but it doesn't matter, everyone is different) they were only taking a few doses a week for maintenance. After experiencing how great I felt the first of medication and amino acids, I was ready to get on a regimen and try this long term. So we bought a bottle and a calcium magnesium supplement to help with the absorption (tri-boron plus. AH mazing product) and began to rebuild.

I noticed a change right away. I felt, clearer. It was I'd been living in a basement with the windows shut and was finally out in the fresh air. It was the feeling of taking a deep gulp of air after holding your breath. I spread the dosage out to get an even amount throughout the day (it just made sense to me to do it this way). Things became a little more accessible to me, like going to the grocery store or staying my full shift at work, or talking to my friends or having them over for a bonfire and movies.

After that initial spike, the progress I saw slowed and changed to a gradual (very gradual, so so gradual like a snail's gradual) incline. Even though things were accessible, I still felt desperate, like I was clinging to a rope above a deep, dark well, like Penny being lowered into the cave on The Rescuers. And my arms were tired. And I was wet and cold. And I started to feel discouraged.

I've said it before, I'll say it again, and I'll probably mention it a bunch more; natural healing is a slow process, and it is sometimes easy to forget how far you've come because you have so far still to go. Its good to have people in your life who can give you an unbiased and accurate assessment of where your at, where you were, and how well you're doing. For me, these people were my husband and my mom. They were the little mice in my pocket, helping me, keeping my chin up, holding up my map and showing me how far I'd come, and keep up the good work.

Its been half a year, and I'm still seeing the improvements brought about by my amino acids. I still take the dosage in three parts throughout the day, but I don't carry it around with me like I did before. I'm okay if I take one tablespoon a little later than normal. I'm even okay if I miss the final tablespoon altogether. I still need it though, and while I test the waters to see how I feel without it, I know I can't stray too far from it, not yet anyways. I live in a new town, in a new state, working at a new job and learning a new bus system. I'm building so many new neural pathways, I  need that extra boost!

I take them on an empty stomach if I can (you don't have to, I've taken them with food too. It just helps the absorb if your tummy is empty. But also, taking stuff on an empty tummy doesn't bother me; if it bothers you, maybe have some crackers with it!) and I don't take them around the time when I do yoga. I want those proteins going to my brain, not my biceps.

I also take Acetyl L Carnitine and Phosphatidyl Serine to help give my brain that little extra push it needs.

I believe that it was Amino Acids that saved my brain and my life. They reinforced my foundation, giving me a firm footing, which would later allow me to address other issues and really pursue healing. I'm not out of the woods yet, not by a long shot, but at least now I can look up, touch a fern, watch a bird fly from branch to branch.

-A.

Struggles with Hypotension and paying attention to my Adrenals for the first time in a decade.

I worked for a green house cleaning company in San Francisco called Dirty Donnie's Green Cleaning. In their add on Craig's List they wore pin-up retro type dresses and aprons and wielded dusters and vacuums like they were weapons. They had tattoos and piercings and purple hair and I knew these were the people for me. In spite of being fifteen minutes late for the interview I got the job and grew close to the girls I worked with.

Dirty Donnie's gave me the opportunity to act out Non-Harming in a professional way; serving my community with biodegradable, non-toxic cleaning supplies. It also allowed me to get acquainted with the magical city by the bay. To this day, if you are lost in San Francisco, you go ahead and give me a call and I can get you at least within a few blocks of where you wanted to go (contrast that to my knowledge of the city I live in now, Portland... its rough  not knowing which was is true north). I got to meet new people and get familiar with the nooks and crannies of beautiful S.F. homes. It was great.

My blood pressure, however, did not think it was so great. In between climbing hills and flights of stairs carrying buckets of supplies and a vacuum, running every hour to move my car, and all the reaching up above my head and crouching down low, I was constantly seeing stars and feeling faint. I would lament to Marcos that there just weren't enough snacks and water in the world that could keep me from a low blood pressure crash. I kept at it, waiting for my body to adjust, pouring myself into an exhausted puddle upon my arrival home, turning down invites to parties and other fun things because I just couldn't lift my head. 

Before long we moved back home to Fresno, my hypotension still unresolved.

It wasn't until my arrival in Portland, and my new job with a new green cleaning company, that these issues resurfaced and demanded some attention. 

It was my first day on the job, in fact I didn't even know I had the job yet, when it started again. I began to loose spacial relations, seeing stars and feeling sick and faint. I was sucking down protein bars and water like there was no tomorrow. Nothing helped. My anxiety is health triggered, so I knew living a life where I felt this way all the time was just not an option. A friend suggested that I might have Postural Orthostatic Hypotension Syndrome and after looking up the symptoms I'd say wow, I totally do (thanks to years of an eating disorder). I introduced more salt into my diet. I bought vitamin water. Ate smaller, more frequent meals and drank white tea (the least caffeinated tea, but still caffeinated enough) to carry me through the blood pressure slump that often follows meal time. It helped, but it was apparent that this was still an issue.

I talked to my mom, the knower of all things, and she (in the kindest, most loving way possible) firmly let me have it for not caring for my adrenals. And she was right; someone like me, with chronic anxiety issues, needs to spend some time lovingly repairing the damage done to those little guys. They've been working overtime my whole life, constantly fighting and flighting. When I think of them I think of Evinrude from The Rescuers, sputtering and coughing after flying so fast and so hard to deliver the message. My Mom encouraged me to not just accept that I had this Postural Orthostatic Hypotension Syndrome, but to find out why. And she suggested the first place I look was to my adrenals.

This was echoed at the supplement store by an employee who said he had major anxiety issues till he started taking care of his adrenals. Gaia, the brand he suggested, was just too much money, so I opted for the more affordable WomenSense Anti-Stress AdrenaSense Forumal. A few days taking the lower dosage showed little to no results so I upped myself to the maximum and saw a change the next day. It was a subtle change, but this type of healing is made up of subtle changes (little by little, a little becomes a lot) and it was the mere difference between standing up and not feeling faint, vs standing up and feeling faint. Soon I found myself making it through a day having cleaned two house, and still feeling capable of speaking. Nothing short of a miracle.

An interesting aside; Healing yourself natural through herbs and supplements is a trial and error type of a process. You must have patience and a willingness to keep trying, keep exploring. Talk to your supplement store; most will let you return something if it isn't working, or they can offer you a free trial pack of pills. When this WomenSense didn't appear to be working (this was before I upped my dosage) I switched to a new brand of pills, with completely different ingredients. I only took it for three days, and I just didn't feel as good as I had been feeling. I'd also been more anxious than I was previously, more on edge, much more phobic. It was my mom (the knower of all things, knower and noticer) that saw the connection between three days on a new medicine, and three days of higher anxiety. I switched back to WomenSense and all was well. So my urging to you is keep your ear tuned into your body, and be willing to be patient and explore the options. What works for one person might not work for you. That's okay.

Taking this medicine has not freed me up from the responsibility of nutrition and lifestyle. Far from it, I still have to take care of myself for these pills to be able to do their job. I typically drink two 1 quart jars of water a day. There was one day where I was working and for some reason I only had one. I was up all night on a cycle of having to get up and pee, and then being so thirsty that I gulped down two glasses of water. Then up to pee again, and more water. The next day I felt so weak; my blood pressure was on the floor, dragging behind me. All because I didn't give my body the water it needed.

So the moral of the story? As you move through your anxiety, as you began to repair and build new pathways, other areas that need attention will become apparent. That's okay. It's not that this process is never ending (though it can feel like that) it means its multi layered. It means our needs aren't always obvious. Once we deal with the tyranny of the urgent, we then have the space to address the more subtle urgencies, following it down to its source, to grasp it at the root.

-A.

3/8/114 a little update.

It was silly of me to think I could comment coherently on my process at the time. I couldn't see the forest for the trees, I couldn't even look up to see the branches, I couldn't even leave my bed.

But here I am now! I'm going to try to fill you in on the last little bit of time in a neat little nutshell, although I'm chronically long winded so this might turn into a novel. Lets see!

I live in a different state now(its funny that you're getting to know me this way, as a person who moves and changes and lives out of boxes. It's really, really not who I am at all. which would probably explain my breakdown last summer); Portland, OR. When one is in the throws of a full on mental and nervous breakdown, it is admittedly perhaps not the best time to relocate. For a good solid few months things had really leveled out in CA. I was working semi regularly, visiting with friends, eating. Once we left and got to Portland, they began to spiral down; Again, I found myself housebound, in a city I'd never seen, far away from everyone I love and everything that made me feel safe.

I kind of just hunkered down. I told myself I needed time to recuperate and rest. My husband got a job and I stayed home and watched Netflix and knitted all day. I'll be honest with you, there wasn't a lot of intention or mindfulness at work. I was never in the quiet, never alone with my mind. I had the tv going when I bathed, cooked, slept. By the time Marcos returned home I was a clattering pile of nerves at wits end, bound in blankets and pillows. He never lost his patience, or implied I should be doing anything other than what I was doing.

If it weren't for Marcos and my dear friend April, I might not have made it out alive. They fed me and kept me occupied and laughing. Aprils progress and the freedom with which she navigated through this new city gave me hope that one I, too, could confidently purchase a bus ticket and arrive safely at my chosen destination. Maybe I could one day even get a job! Ah, dreams.

Slowly, the dust began to settle. I began to find that there were little things that made worlds of difference; like going for a walk every day. Even in the snow, the freezing rain, across ice patches, it was important for me to walk outdoors. This was hard. Everything about Portland was unfamiliar and scary and dirty I thought (which is funny, coming from San Francisco I know, but I still don't see how Portland is cleaner than S.F.) I had lost all sense of direction and was literally being led around by Marcos and April, completely at their mercy. I was a child, unable to find her way home again. All things considered, yucky streets and questionable characters aside, I felt better if I went for a walk.

After having whittled my addiction down to half a cup, I stopped drinking coffee completely. I drink tea now instead. Depending on the study, tea has less than half the caffeine content of coffee. Its better for you, full of anti-inflamatory, anti-oxident, and anti-viral properties. Plus, tea pots are more expressive that a french press;-P

I'm still taking my amino acids, which has given me the freedom to address other health issues I have, such as my thyroid and my adrenals and my hypotension issues.

I'm on a set sleeping schedule, no longer staying up late or sleeping in. I'm asleep by eleven, and awake by 7:30 (my alarm is set to 8.) Waking up when my body wants to, without the intrusion of an alarm, is incredible. I wake feeling refreshed and bright even.

The most valuable change came to me in the form of a Buddhist practice of mindfulness. A beautiful friend lent me her copy of Thich Nhat Hanh's book titled "Being Peace" and told me to read it slow, and pass it on to someone else when I was done. It changed everything. I began to view myself through the lens of Non-Harming; if I must walk gently on the earth, and not cause harm to any living being, surely that includes myself. It has colored all my dealings with myself; I approach myself in this gentleness when I cook my food and when I eat it, when I bathe, when I'm tired. This has been the foundations of all my positive changes. This is the reason behind my new sleep schedule, behind my switch from coffee to tea. Now when I take my walks I walk in mindfulness, and I find that all the beauty in the world is available to me. I find peace.

I was finally able (mentally, emotionally, spiritually) to work. It became evident that what was once a time for rest and rejuvenation had drawn on and was now stagnation. Interacting with other human beings lifted my spirits as well, helping me to see my own humanity, quelling some of my loneliness. I'm also very fortunate to have a job that allows me to practice non-harming professionally; I clean peoples homes using green products. I serve my community and leave no footprints behind. A treasure.

Our apartment is in the middle of Downtown's Cultural district. Its not my favorite place but its okay. Our two cats are happy here but they tell me they miss Bruce, the dog they used to live with, and they miss going outside. I tell them I miss those things too and promise them, just as Marcos has promised me, that soon we'll have a little house with a yard and a garden. We still have our Christmas decorations up and we moved our bed into the living room.

This is it! This was a very surface level view of things and I plan to go through, item by item, and share about what has helped me out of my depression and anxiety. I'll write a really long post about Buddhism and Thich Nhat Hanh, and suggest some good teas for you to try.

If you're out there and you're reading this, thank you.
-A.

Here's a picture of our new little apartment at Christmas time <3 this is where I write to you.