Only this week I got back on track. Since the last post I’ve been ill. Six weeks lost.
My liver stopped functioning. My brain went too. Digestion failed. Skin wouldn’t heal (small regular things like cat- and rose- and oven-wounds).
All caused by the two weeks of severe stress we had at the end of January/start of February.
The liver thing I had checked out because after ten days of no bile I run serious risks what with cholestorol and waste not being expelled. And I need my liver for converting both cortisol and progesteron. But an echo and blood work all looked good. That’s when I knew it was “just” stress,
It hurt too. A heavy, dull pain, like I was carrying a brick around. Could only sleep on my left.
I was nauseous all the time. I switched to a liver diet, forget the fat and protein.
The other thing was that I just couldn’t relax. I was wired all the time. Not so much anxious or scared, luckily, but not at ease and not able to lighten up, even though the stressors had now gone from my life. Cat was healing, my liver was ok, I felt loved and cared for.
I just couldn’t remember how I’ve lived the major part of 2014, when I was in tune with life and time and felt profoundly happy and was living in the moment.
I noticed that I was trying to reach this place again by thought and that’s not how you do it.
Brain was fried too. Couldn’t knit. Couldn’t sew. Everything was wonky and slow going and a mess. Just as well since I couldn’t sit upright at my sewing table for twenty minutes anyway.
So I just took it slow. Cleared the scedule. Reclined in bed. Rest rest rest. Ate light meals (mostly fresh fish made into broth with venkel or witlof). Cuddled the cat who’s slowly recuperating. Stayed indoors (not by choice, I just couldn’t be upright long enough) and tried to be positive about that. Took extra vit D (75 mg per day on some days).
And tried to keep the worries at bay.
It paid off.
Within two weeks my bile started flowing again. I knew digestion was back on track. Confidence seeped in.
There was a set back when the engineer’s rapport for the court case about the manure plant had to be written, unexpectedly and within a day. I pulled it off, I had to, but my body was pleading with me. Digestion luckily stayed functional but mentally it was a set back.
It’s only last week that I started to breathe lightly again, refound that “zen” feeling. Was happy in the moment again. I don’t know how I got to that, it just happened. It’s more of a habit than anything else I guess. You can’t just decide to do it.
– o wait, there was a significant moment, I now remember. I was sitting on the couch, with elevated feet and wrapped in a woolen blanket. I was knitting a simple yet interesting sock and watching a documentary about the brains of people who kill. These people often have different functionality in the amygdala, the frontal cortex, or both. Depending on wether they are a spontanious killer, a psychopath or a psychotic chizofrenic. (This is all in broad strokes. It was not a very good documentary.)
It has somewhat to do with how impulses get dealt with within the brain and whether rationality gets a chance to butt in and whether social guidelines are installed in the individual for rationality to build upon. Literally installed: pathways in the brain. A psychopath doesn’t have them by nature. A certain type of killer doesn’t have them because of what he experienced as a child.
I picked up on the other subject: the amygdala. Some killers lack a filter to handle the intense emotions amygdala can cause. They act on impulse, the frontal cortex doesn’t even kick in. Or the frontal cortex does get involved but is used to accommodate the amygdalian impulses: paranoia and delusions make you crazy.
I had a fleeting thought about how I managed to become friends with my amygdala, only last year. I sighed in relief. And there it was again, the peace.
About the same day, and it was only the day before yesterday actually, my brain became fully functional again. Solving knitting problems and the ability to make decisions and choices is now possible again.
It had already started a bit in the last two weeks with correct sewing and choosing to buy yarn because I desired it but these were still things that happened in a not-clear way. More intuitive.
Now my logical and decisive skills are operational again too.
I have not dealt with the fact that I “lost” six weeks yet. All the plans I had that have been cancelled. Visits. Drawings. Producing things to sell to spinners. Nature maintenance at the cabin. Exercise.
I’m sour about those. Haven’t dealt with these feelings yet.
My body took a blow. My shoulder injury flared up. I’ve visibly grown more grey (as has the cat). My body’s grown older. Skin has not healed. I’ve grown a bit “flabby” here and there. More lines in my face.
It seems me and the cat have sacrificed one of our nine lives.
But there we are. A major stressor. A set back to severe bed bound health. Six weeks recovery. Back on track.
It has underscored that I am not a healthy person and that I need to lie down every day around 11 o’clock in the morning. To reset to “relaxed” and to digest food. If I do I do well.
I hope next week I can take up walking again. And drawing.
Btw, sleep has been good all these weeks, overall. Eleven to seven.