Finding Wellness - Part 1

by Celeste Keepers

Setting the Stage

Growing up in the country was a dream come true. Footloose and fancy free, we rode horses and motorcycles. We braved the nearby swimming hole, though I could have sworn it had subzero temperatures. We waded in the local irrigation ditch, pretending to fish (only to reel in unknown slime). We roamed acres of land, with no cell phones or parental worries when we were gone half the day. We meandered amongst the unseen but ever-present rattlesnakes, wild animals, and poison oak, to which I frequently was a victim. I loved putting a halter on my horse, jumping on bareback and barefoot, then going into the woods in search of my dad cutting firewood. Not everyone would love that life, but it suited me well.

The time came when I had to grow up, and learn about the world outside the ranch. When I did, it hit hard. Our little country school was a good stepping stone into the harsh realities of the real world. Kids can be mean no matter what school you grow up in, and the older I got, the meaner they became. We all awkwardly acquainted ourselves with the uncertainty and insecurity that comes with the change in schools, our bodies, friends, etc. I wasn’t all that nice myself when I was being forced to be somewhere I didn’t want to be. I wanted only to be home where I felt relaxed and safe.

Fortunately, there were summer breaks. In 5th grade I joined 4-H (a youth program focused on personal development through learning to care for horses). I began showing my horse. Huge learning curves manifested huge anxieties. Thankfully, I possessed a strong desire for adventure and accomplishment. Those drives overrode the anxiety of showing my horse in front of judges and stands full of people. I was forced to learn some deep coping strategies for stress, and for pushing through discomfort. Some ways of coping were good and necessary. Others I could have done without. However, I ended up doing quite well in that world. Despite lacking the funds for real riding lessons, I gleaned what I could from others. I ended up in championship classes and even the State Fair competitions.

Anxiety always lingered beneath the surface. Yet my youth, stable upbringing, and healthy lifestyle kept it under wraps then. I was too busy with school and the horses to indulge in the temptations to which my peers regularly succumbed. It felt good to be strong and healthy.

Then came high school. Something in my brain shifted and I suddenly questioned everything I ever knew or felt. The peer pressure was so strong that when you didn’t conform, you were ousted as the weird one. I didn’t want to be weird any more than anyone else did, so I wore the fashionable clothes we could afford, talked the talk, walked the walk. Fortunately, I found the right group of friends. They helped me stay clear of the hard-core temptations that would have easily altered the course of my life.

Little did I know that I was making other choices that were subtly changing the course of my life anyway. My way of eating was intuitive: I ate when I was hungry, and not when I wasn’t. But that came into question when seeing my best friend eat monster cookies for lunch, alternated with a dry salad the next day to balance things out. There was always a Diet Coke in her hand, to keep her belly feeling full. She was keeping her weight down with this method, which is the ultimate goal for a teenage girl. Being best friends, of course I followed suit.

With that shift, I began experiencing the negative effects of blood sugar swings. I would often find myself lightheaded and shaky, due to the lack of sustainable nutrition in my body, in addition to the caffeine and chemicals from all the Diet Coke. I was used to going long stretches without eating, but besides my love for making chocolate chip cookies, I didn’t eat much junk food. It wasn’t because I didn’t like junk food, but because we couldn’t afford anything outside of basic meals. Little did I know how that had saved me for many years.

When I was eating healthy solid food, it sustained me even through long stretches between meals. But once I shifted my diet to go against “normal” eating patterns, I began focusing way too much on weight, and how little I could get away with eating. “Calories in, calories out,” was the message I heard. Even now, we’re still hearing that message, although study after study has proven that the way we metabolize a calorie from a piece of meat is not the same as the calorie in a cookie. Back then I knew nothing about nutrition, and even the “experts” had limited knowledge. I started ignoring my feelings and intuition, because I thought I was doing the right things.

This led to years of harmful eating patterns. I would read labels to find the lowest calorie items I could, with no awareness or concern of sugar content. Then fat became the demon, according to what I heard on TV.  So I set my intention on also limiting that. Even after getting my college degree in Health Promotion, with an emphasis on Nutrition and Fitness, that way of eating was the norm. Low fat, low calories, and high sugar. There was no clarity on types of fat, or carbohydrates.

My anxiety went through the roof, which was yet another thing exacerbated by my food choices. I loved college, but I hated that I was so focused on things that frequently kept me feeling unstable emotionally and physically. I didn’t know this way of eating was so stressful on my body. I didn’t understand that my blood sugar swings were only being mitigated by my youth and otherwise healthy lifestyle. It only came to a head later, when I was married and a new mom with new stresses. I was unable then, to continue with my coping mechanisms. My body couldn’t compensate for my unhealthy decisions any longer.

I was grateful to be able to stay at home to raise my girls. Yet it’s an understatement to say it was challenging for an introvert like me. I wish I could go back and create a manual to prepare myself for how to manage my lifestyle habits beforehand. That includes the mindset that I needed to handle it all alone, which was encouraged by subtle societal messages. Maybe then I wouldn’t have had to bring my family into the process that resulted from me trying to continue it all into motherhood.

Unfortunately, my doctor was very little help with proper nutrition during pregnancy. She advised me to take prenatal vitamins as her one piece of nutrition advice. I also chose to forego caffeine during my pregnancies. However, despite my education, my other unhealthy ways of eating and coping with stress continued until my two girls were two and four. My body kept compensating as best as it could, until one day it just couldn’t.

Crossroads

The day when my body could no longer compensate for my unhealthy habits is strong in my memory, because nothing has been the same for me since.

It happened over a Labor Day Weekend. The night before, my husband Jeremy had gone to a church campout with Tara, our four-year-old, to have some time with just the two of them. The plan was for me to make the two hour drive the next day with our younger daughter Alicia, so we could spend the second night camping together.

On my way out of town, I stopped for my customary mocha at the local coffee stand. I wanted it to fend off the fatigue that had become my normal state of being since becoming a mother of two. With Alicia in the backseat, we made the drive without incident. By the time we arrived, the lift from the caffeine had become the usual jittery feeling, a couple of hours after my caffeine indulgences. There was also a heavy smell of smoke from a nearby forest fire. Once I asked around to confirm that the fire wasn’t dangerously close, I continued on my way, ignoring the tension mounting inside of me.

After locating the rest of my family in the campground, Jeremy decided to take the girls swimming. I tagged along on the short walk to the river to watch. Later, I needed to head back to the car to get something. On the walk back, out of the blue, a full-blown panic attack hit me. I had no frame of reference for this feeling. I didn’t know that’s what was happening at the time. My heart felt like it would pound through my chest. My breathing constricted. I felt like I needed to run for my life, though I didn’t have a reason. I literally thought I was about to die. It was the scariest thing I had ever experienced in my life.

There I was, standing alone with campers swirling around me, completely clueless about what I was experiencing. My first thought was that it was from the smoke in the air. So, I went to my car and turned on the air conditioning to get rid of the smell. The clean air helped, to a degree. I could breathe better, but my heart was still pounding. Every time I tried to get out of the car and smelled the smoke, my breathing would constrict. The panic again ramped up. I drove around trying to keep the AC running and retain my sanity. (Years later, the smell of forest fires would continue to trigger panic in me because of this one day.)

I didn’t have a phone with me, so I couldn’t contact Jeremy. There was no one else around that I knew well enough to ask for help. After what felt like a long time, I decided I had survived so far. It was time to find Jeremy. Trying not to draw attention while in my state of panic, I tried to explain to him what was happening. But he also lacked a frame of reference for what I was going through. He just had to go by what I was telling him, since on the outside I looked perfectly fine.

All I could suggest was to go home. That felt like the only safe place to be at that point. As an independent spirit, and not wanting to ruin his camping trip, I told Jeremy I’d be okay driving home. I’d take Alicia back with me. He conceded, knowing I had made up my mind. It didn’t even cross either of our minds to take the step of going to the doctor. I rarely went to the doctor, as someone appearing to be healthy. Little did we know that I was beginning a spiral that wouldn’t go away quickly.

Since my symptoms were only slightly helped by being in the car, I knew I would be “white knuckling” it home. I ended up calling my mom and sister back-to-back, just to have someone talk me through my drive. I’m glad I did, even though all I did was freak them out. It started what would become a new line of questioning and confusion for those with whom I was close. Alicia and I arrived home safely, but my heart was still racing. I felt like I was having to manage every breath I took, given the constant constriction in my chest and throat. I found an inhaler from when I had been sick and used that to help open my airway. It improved my breathing but made my heart race more (a side effect of the medication in the inhaler).

While Alicia played in her room, I drank a wine cooler I had impulsively purchased on my way out of town. That was out of character for me, since I didn’t normally drink. But it was all I could come up with, as something known to calm nerves. It did calm mine, but it also scared me. I can only thank God that a little voice took over, and told me that although alcohol was helping in the moment, it wasn’t the answer. Also in that moment, I felt deep empathy for those who make that choice without knowing where else to turn. I didn’t yet know where else to turn, but my family was a strong incentive to avoid that path. 

My disturbing symptoms continued for several days. I barely slept. The racing in my chest never calmed down. I kept myself distracted in the middle of the night by playing the piano and watching TV. It was a living hell. However, I still had two active young girls who needed mothering. Since I was used to internalizing my stress, that was just one more thing to push through. I never asked for help. I honestly don’t know how I did it. Somehow Jeremy and I managed. Fortunately, he had time with his new home business.

After days of watching me in so much turmoil, Jeremy finally suggested seeking medical advice. I agreed, yet somehow knew that what was happening in me was something deep. It had been a long time coming, and I knew I needed to find someone that really understood what was going on at the root.