Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Gluten Free is Not Depression Free or Other Ways I Help My Brain

Lilypad, February 2011

The snow in the above photo is starting to melt, and hopefully, that is the last big storm of this Winter.  But it might not be.  We tend to get snow here on our open, bright yellow forsythia, and sometimes it is not just a few flurries but a giant, wet, heavy amount of white -- the kind where we fear all the budding things will be killed, though they never are.  Spring things are tough fighters.

I hope that the gluten I ate last week and had to struggle through a purging of was the last of the last of that for me.  Most likely it's not.  Accidents happen and yet I am a tough fighter and optimistic like that forsythia, the daffies (as we call them), and the tulips.

Things outside of me, like weather, even when they are inside of me, like gluten, never get the last word.  I do.

But that's because on top of learning how to help myself through my diet (and here is the post that explains the connection between gluten and depression), I have a whole arsenal of weapons that I employ in this battle.

Don't like the "war" metaphor?  You probably have been lucky enough never to have the depression that I and others have experienced for a large part of our lives or you would know that this is all about war and that we are Warriors.

Gluten free means that I can think clearly.  Thinking clearly means that I can see that my depression is not who I am.  Thinking clearly means that I can make better choices.  Thinking clearly means that I can choose Life and Happy.

Gluten free means that I am not lethargic and I have energy.  Having energy means I can do the things that I need to do -- like dance, yoga, writing, reading, relaxing, petting the animals, taking walks, having fun, playing, taking photos, and the list goes on and on.

Above all gluten free equals dancing.  When I have Gluten Brain, I can barely get out of bed.  Hours go by and later I have no idea how I spent them.  I get caught up in unproductive stories and judgments.  I languish, weighed down, about to break, like the forsythia under the wet snow.

Gluten free equals dancing.

Dancing equals happy.  Dancing equals my Ultimate Weapon.  But with gluten in my system, I can't even remember where I put that Weapon much less how to employ it.

See?  Inextricably tied together.  It is never One Thing that will Magically Fix You.

Anyone who tells you it is one thing?  They don't know what they're talking about.  We are too complicated for One Thing, including One Pill or One Procedure or One...(ring?...GEEK!).


svasti said...

Wow, so much snow! Outside of the ski fields, I've never seen that my snow in my life, let alone outside my front door.

And speaking of front doors, I can barely make out that yours is painted red in this photo!

Anyway, lovely post. Exactly right - nothing is ever just one thing. I'm learning this too, as I strip away more and more layers of "stuff" with the kinesiology work I'm doing. It's slow, and intense, but everything is interlinked (so I'm discovering). Everything.

And I'm with you on the war metaphor, too. Bloody well feels like a war sometimes fo' sure!

Tess said...

Love what you say about spring things being tough fighters. I don't think it's an accident that some of the first "fighters" we see coming through have leaves in the shape of swords: snowdrops, daffodils, crocuses. The swords clear the way for the riot of beauty in the flower-heads.