Rethinking what health looks like

So earlier this year I wrote about 'Getting Strong'.  In that post I wrote about how I wanted to lose 5% of my body weight this year to improve my health.

When I wrote that post in February, I had already lost 2kg through exercise.  Until three weeks ago, I had maintained that 2kg of weight loss but hadn't lost any more.  But I didn't beat myself up about it and I didn't give up on exercising.  Being able to lose 2kg, JUST 2kg and maintain that weight loss for five months without giving up, getting obsessive or depressed was a massive achievement for me.

      My favourite chip of all chips.

But there was a reason why I'd only lost 2kg.  With the stress of Covid coupled with Murray's epilepsy, smashing back a bag of kettle chips at night had become a fairly regular thing.  Plus we were eating more takeaways.  Being tired and having our routines bent out of shape made it easy to justify not cooking.  While for the most part I ate a healthy diet during the day, I often binged on chips or sweets or too many glasses of wine at night.  To have something to look forward to.  To drown out the noise of the stress of my life.  And because I was exercising most days I wasn't gaining weight, so I felt vindicated.

My relationship with food is something I've always struggled with.  Whether it's obsessing about what I eat and how much I'm exercising or I'm shoveling chips into my face, basically since puberty my relationship with food has been problematic.  And I've known that since I was a teen.  At one point my body became so unused to consuming saturated fats eating any high fat food made me horrendously ill.  That really scared me.  It took some years before I could eat foods like icecream again (and I still don't really like it).  I've done lots of therapy around these issues and was extremely lucky to be introduced to OA meetings not long out of my teens.

While OA was helpful, unlike the other issues covered by the 12 Step Programs, it's not like you can just 'quit' food and work through your issues.  Humans kinda need food to survive.  Whether your issue is eating too little or eating too much.  Whether it's about body image or lack of self-confidence, what it all comes to is control.  And this issue is much bigger than considering what you're eating.  This issue follows you around where-ever you go.  So when parts of my life become uncontrollable, there they are.

About a month ago I had a massive reality check.

It's not just about diet, but it's a good start.    

Murray got some blood results back and his cholesterol was crazy high.  Like, he told me the number and I thought he'd misread it and asked him to read it again.  Before we'd even been to his GP for the follow up we'd downloaded a calorie and exercise tracking app and completely overhauled how we eat.  Because while there are other factors as to why that number was so bad, diet is the one thing we could do something about.

We're a team.  So if Murray needed to change his diet to manage his health then I would too.  It was the kick in the butt I needed to start making an active effort to address my bingeing.  Part of me hadn't wanted to address it because it needed that crutch to help me cope.  Another part of me was scared I'd replace it with different unhealthy, obsessive habits.  But when we got that news I didn't even consider any of  those things.  I just went 'righto' and we made those changes*.

I was worried that using a tracking app would make me fall into old habits.  But so far, that hasn't happened.  I think this is in part due to being very aware of these issues.  The app allocates an amount of kilojoules (or calories) you can have per day based on your age, height and weight and how quickly you want to lose weight (if at all).  I record everything honestly.  And I try not to eat more than 10% under my allowance.  I have days where I eat more than my allocated amount and I don't beat myself up about it.  I haven't cut chocolate.  Or chips.  Or wine.  I have upped fruits and veges and cut way back on cheese.  I'm not starving, or hungry or depriving myself of anything (like earlier iterations of me would have done).  I'm just very aware of what I'm eating**.

Last year this exercise felt impossible

 

I think the other reason it hasn't happened is because the way I think about my body has changed over the past year.  I have to credit this in part to the amazing osteo I was seeing for some issues with my hips***.  Because even though his other job was as a fitness instructor, even though I was overweight and he had to see me in shorts and a bra most weeks he only ever made positive comments about my body and what it was capable of.  And this helped me realise how capable my body was.  It was strong.  It was flexible.  It was fit.  I was now able to do exercises easily that I had previously struggled with.  At this time I was also spending a lot of time in the sauna.  Being in a close environment with other people wearing very little clothing forces you to feel more ok in your skin.  In the sauna I've met folks from many ages, shapes, sizes, ethnicities and genders - and we're all there for our health in one form or another.  This really impressed on me that what we look like and how healthy we are doesn't always look like what we expect it to.

Charity Witt: power lifter.  Superwoman.    

Plus The Titan Games.  The host, Dwayne Johnson, handpicks athletes that represent diversity.  Contestants come from a variety of backgrounds including disability, health conditions and overcoming great adversity.  One of the contestants was Charity Witt.  Charity was diagnosed with cardiac arrythmia at the age of 18.  She was told she'd be on medication for the rest of her life.  She didn't like the sound of that so she sought a second opinion, and was told that with exercise and a healthy diet she should be able to mange without the meds.  And she started exercising. Not only did Charity set records in US power lifting, but she won the first season of The Titan Games.  Watching her pull a giant ball weight so easily blew my mind.  She made it look like she was taking her dog for a walk while other contestants struggled to even get it moving.  And in regular clothes, she didn't look at all like what we're taught 'health' looks like.  Because we're not taught to equate strength with health with women.

And this made me think about all these amazing female athletes performing at the top of their fields.  All these different bodies.  All exceptionally healthy bodies at their absolute performance peak.  Not all of these bodies look like what we're taught 'healthy' looks like.

Look at all these bad ass women's bodies.  All in peak form.  All different from each other.

And this reminds me of this awful weight loss/health trope.   I've seen it on almost every fucking weight loss miracle thing that's ever existed: The aspirational before and after pic.  I don't mean the one where they flick up a picture of 'before' when they are over 100kg and it's at a bad angle and they've chosen a bad outfit and they've 'overcome' that image of themselves.  I mean the 'before' they got big pics.  The photos you 'should stick on your fridge' pics.  The 'I wish I looked like that now' pics.  Because being smaller does not necessarily mean being healthier. 

If I were to choose a 'fridge' pic that represented me at my aesthetic best I would probably choose this:

This pic was a local magazine cover.  I was just a guest singer in this band, but the magazine wouldn't do it without me because then it wouldn't fit the aesthetic they were looking for.  Yes, it's been photoshopped - my regrowth was shopped out, my skin has been cleaned up.  But my size was not shopped.  At the time of this shoot I was 24 years old and quite mentally unstable.  I was a size 8 and underweight.  I was exercising excessively, I was eating erratically and I was a pro at putting away vast quantities of free wine at exhibition openings.  I cannot deny that I look like what we're told 'pretty' looks like in this photo.  But I was definitely not healthy.  This should never be an aspirational pic for me, or for anyone else.  Yet women this size (usually smaller) and just as unhealthy grace our magazine covers with far more regularity than women like Charity Witt ever do.  It's unsurprising as to why so many of us have messed up notions as to what 'health' looks like.

And the reality is that whether we've been this ill or not, aspiring to look like we did 10 or 20 years ago is just weird.  I've had kids since this shoot.  I have less organs in my body than when this photo was taken.  I'm 16 years older.  Without extensive plastic surgery, it's literally impossible for me to look like the person in this picture.

I understand why people use these photos of themselves - visual cues are a great aid when we're trying to make behavioral changes.  But the problem is that for many of us, a 'healthy' version of ourselves now does not have a visual we can attach to it.  I don't know what a healthy today me should look like.  So I'm doing my best to let go of visual cues other than those I'm starting to see when I look in the mirror.

A more accurate aspirational pic.  Me last year.           
A little lighter than now with my Millenium Falcon.        

I've even let go of the idea of 'my ideal weight' because I honestly don't know what that will look like.  BMI is a shit measure of health.  And it's especially shit for anyone at either end of the bell curve.  I'm short.  And I'm trying to increase my muscle mass.  So I don't use it.  Now I'm tipping 40, what's considered 'healthy weight' is also different than when I was 24.  I do want to be a little smaller than I am now, but I have no aspirations to ever be as small as the waif in that picture ever again.  I've set a weight goal, but if I feel good in myself before I get there then it just means I got there early.

And I've now lost 5% of my body weight!  This was the first of many things I have in place to mark progress in terms of my health.  It means my heart health is better, my cancer risk is lower and I'm less likely to get type 2 diabetes.  But I have other things in place to mark progress.  I want to chafe less.  I want to fit some of my clothes more comfortably.  I want to have better body tone and I wouldn't mind having more definition through my cheekbones and chin.  And I want to teach my kids that size is not an indicator of health.  I want them to have a healthier relationship with food than I've had.  And I want to live a long time so I can spend as much time with them as I can.  These are the indicators I'm using to measure my health.  These are the things that truly matter.

I want to live until my kids are old enough THEY need regular colonoscopies

* This was easier for me than it would be for many due to my existing experience and skill sets.  My love/hate relationship with food has meant I've had many jobs where I work with food.  For a while, writing healthy recipes was a part of my job.  And as a lapsed vegetarian, cutting red meat out and replacing it with healthier, vege based options was not difficult.

** When I do feel like bingeing a crunchy snack I have replaced the chips with carrots.  After one carrot, I'm full so don't feel like eating any more anyway.  And I really like carrots.  And I still occasionally knock back a bottle of wine - but it's one of those 187ml teeny dealios.  And only sometimes.

*** Ahhh, broken ankles.  The gift that keeps on giving.

On Just Getting By

So it's been a while.

Four months without blogging is a long time for me.  But I just haven't been able to.  I've started and deleted a bunch of things.  I've thought deeply about topical issues and wanted to share those thoughts, but couldn't articulate them clearly.

But I haven't been able to read either.

Before last week I hadn't finished reading a book* since February.  That's five months without reading.  That's a long time for me.  And again, it's not for lack of wanting to.

I just have no brain.  And while I do have some downtime I'm too exhausted to use it in the ways I usually do.  Murray's epilepsy has been a huge adjustment for us.  Our days are never predictable.  Our workloads fluctuate, but seem always greater than they used to be.  There is no space to process the crazy days.  We just have to trek forward while juggling work, parenting and all the basic household stuff alongside very real and often pressing health needs.  It's exhausting.

And it's no-ones fault.  There's no-one to blame.  Sure, hospital appointment wait times and GP limitations are frustrating, but there are reasons for that**.  We could get mad at our health system, at the government and the lack of services available for folk like us, but frankly it's a waste of energy.  All we can do is live in the now and do the best with what we have.

Instead, I put the little energy I have left toward being grateful.  I am grateful for my education.  I am grateful for the years of therapy I've had before this point.  I am grateful that I have had access to texts and books and people that make all of this easier for me to compute.

Because I'm so tired.  All the time.  This feeling reminds me of being a new Mum.  Not so much a depression, more of a fog.  That feeling of trucking on with little sleep.  Of being physically tapped out.  Of having to learn as I go.  Of letting go.  Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs is what I cling to.  It keeps those feelings of failure at bay.  Being able to be creative and political and engage socially are all top tier things.  And the reality is that at the moment we are struggling to meet those basic needs near the bottom.  Because it's just hard to at this point.  Knowing this allows me to somewhat let go of my ego around art and writing practice.  I am so grateful because that guilt is so futile, and just another thing I'd have no energy to feed.

Our reality is a cycle of struggling to meet the basics.  If I work extra, it helps me feel more financially secure because we can put more away in savings.  And it allows us to put money aside for things to look forward to so life feels more bearable.  But when I do work more, I spend less time with the kids and their behavior starts going sideways.  And then they don't sleep well and wake up with nightmares which starts an energy sucking cycle which affects everyone.  And when we're not well rested, we get run down and sick or (for Murray) have seizures.  And then we can't work and this impacts our finances, so we feel we need to work more...

It's a crazy balancing act.

I am just so grateful for all the support we have for the kids.  To my Mum who not only comes and helps two days a week so I can go to work, but also drops stuff to help out when Murray's unwell.  To both our workplaces who are so understanding in terms of our situation so we both still have jobs and enjoy going to them.  And to our school.  Who not only provide an environment that our kids thrive in but, according to Murray, are ace at handling seizures because they do so calmly with kindness and dignity.  While I know we're struggling to meet our kids psychological needs, I feel grateful at this point that they safe, they have enough to eat and they are surrounded by people who love them.

So yeah, I'm not writing, but I am coping.  The great thing of having grown up with a crazy home life, and having lots of therapy as consequence, is that not only am I used to managing crazy situations, but I have mad tools in my coping tool belt.  I can handle Murray having seizures while I'm driving, or choking on a carrot when postictal*** or having a bad fall, and then wake up the next day, put on my face and go to work and be ok because of those tools.  I swim a lot.  I sleep as much as I can.  I revel in shitty Netflix and mindless phone games.  I try to care less about the state of my house.

 Me, about to leave to Warkworth, after a swim      

And I make sure there are always things to look forward to.  Murray does too.  We have to have things to look forward to to make those bad days feel less hard.  I try and get away (situation willing) to somewhere close by a few times a year.  If I want to see a movie - I go and see that movie.  Murray still goes to as many Bloodbowl tournaments as he can.  We plan family outings and short breaks.  And if stuff isn't great on the day, we always have a plan B.  Sometimes we miss out - but sometimes we don't.

I guess this is just writing for writing's sake.  Because I've managed to bribe the kids with Roblox.  Because Murray made it to work today.  Because today is a good day.  And I have no idea what tomorrow will bring because that just isn't what our lives look like right now but regardless of what it is, I will be ok.  Because there is always something else to look forward to on the calendar.

Murray and I in a fancy hotel for one night without kids

* Besides kids books.  Not that they don't count - I LOVE reading kids books and the awesome stuff Etta likes to read (Ripleys Believe It Or Not, non-fiction books about cats, tween graphic novels), but I haven't been able to read anything that takes more than one sitting to finish.

** So, um, there's a pandemic happening.  And while we live on a series of isolated islands far away from it all, this does (and has always) restrict our access to certain treatments here in Aotearoa.  There are very few specialists that deal with what we are dealing with currently (being 'special' really isn't a great thing in medical terms), and with a growing population on top of the pressure of backlog from last years lockdowns, progress with tests and specialists is slow going regardless of whether you have health insurance or not.

*** After a seizure.