Today I woke up realizing that I spent 20 of the first 26 years of my life completely strung out on cortisol. That my PMS migraine that made me take Ibuprofen and try to sleep during my junior and senior year was not normal like my mother said.
That direct sign of being toxic was likely a lot of being up most nights listening to my father's long-standing mental health issues rants and a sluggish liver from eating PMS food cravings for a week.
An adult second chance view
Recently, after two decades in natural trauma and injury healing and a lot of experience visually body reading, I looked at my second-grade school pictures and I felt really bad for the little girl in front of me. Her hair was a bit thin. She was really thin and still she smiled missing a couple of teeth as seven-years-olds do by then. I had almost forgotten all about that mighty girl. I know why I was looking like that now. Chances are my sleep was not good and I was really active but I may not have been eating very well. I know I had a lot of fast food around then and my life was pretty traumatized by watching my dad almost cut his fingers off in the lawn mower that summer before after losing his job and spending a week or so in a Mental Health facility. I know now that second-grade school picture was a snapshot after the previous tower moments year of my life gobbled up her innocence. One look comparing first grade and second-grade photos showed me the truth, that is the year I became an overachieving adrenaline junkie.
I needed the hits...I needed the protection.
Yup, looking back, somewhere in that year I got a bit toxic with my femininity too. I don't think that after that picture, I ever wore a dress to grade school again. I also remember that by 8 years old, I started thinking my mother was weak because she was emotionally dependent on a verbally abusive person. I know now that is what is called emotional immaturity and trauma and codependency. I also started playing more with some toxic masculinity traits that actually worked out for me like taking friends away from other ones on the playground and telling them all the reasons they should play with me and not them. I also was one of the fastest running around playing RCK and was eager to beat a few boys in playground races instead of sitting and talk.
When puberty started to hit and money at home got tight when my baby brother was born with a medical condition I got bossy. I got angry. Looking back at some skin issues and my before mentioned headaches, so did my liver. That is the organ that holds all that bile when you want to scream because no one is listening. I remember the poor stress management after school writing assignments bringing me to tears. It got to the point of self-imposed anxiety that I almost convinced myself at some level that I needed the cry like an OCD ritual to ensure some good art. For almost two decades I would double check of my alarm to ensure a good night's sleep.
As does the shit that comes down from the chaos and so we all need to figure out how to be resilient. According to Psychology Today's website ( 2019) "Behavior is said to be self-sabotaging when it creates problems in our life and interferes with long-standing goals. Yup, I have that tendency or at least I did. Thank Goddess fire, yoga called me and I came.
What I did not know, is that back in the day I was an adrenaline junkie. This kind of focused self leading went clear on through 1993 when I crashed from mono in college. The sad thing? I recovered and soldiered on right until becoming a mom, not once but twice and then I wanted some recovery.
A lot of Belly Guru is part of that heal the healer story. If I had to look back, moving down to Charlotte in 2004 from NY was a drastic attempt to reset my body and give me the financial space to reclaim the girl I was before ten. The one that loved Bio, astrology, her Barbie dream house and wanted to be a fashion designer. The one that wrote poetry and decorated her bedroom wall with decorated poems and hand painted a big sunflower on her jeans in like 1988 as my own take on the heavy metal painted jean jackets around high school. See I wasn't "Decidedly Alternative". I wasn't a skater or a skid. I wasn't a book nerd or really a JAP as these were the cultures of my High School. I was a unique mix of all that. I had friends in every sterotypical Breakfast club group because what my life made me was a master chameleon. My strong empathy and emotional intelligence made moving between subgroups in High School fairly easy. It made my twenties a breeze but somewhere mid 30's I decided to just become me. It was the relief of leaving a lot behind in NY. It was the living my vision board dreams for a good 12 or so years. I appreciate the decade of my adrenaline recovery. I was able to fill my resiliency bucket up for the shakedown I needed for the second half of my life. I am back on track with my original vision of my 50's. Funny how Ma Guru, Mother Nature always has my back.
PS. Have you had a chance to follow Belly Guru LLC over on FB or Dr.Lisa Holland PT yet?
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