Tag: Optavia

Fight-Flight-Freeze

I was taught our autonomic nervous systems handle our flight or flight response to threats. So many people are talking about stress management. Our bodies are responding to the stress even if, in our minds, we are not at all stressed.

Not long ago I learned that there is an additional response to flight/flight. And that is “freeze”. Becoming immobile. I can relate to that, too.

However, after 62 years on this planet, I think I may have learned a thing or two, albeit the hard way, most of the time.

When I was forced to look at the state of my physical health, like going to see a doctor and having to get on the scale I’ve avoided, I had the usual stress responses.

I fought. I fought hard. I fought everything and anything. I fought you because I didn’t like me. I fought me because, if I didn’t like you, I dang sure didn’t like me. I fought because like is a battle to win, isn’t it?

Flight. Oh, I can fly far, far away. I am the queen of denial, as they say. I fly off to dark shadowy places where I can feel sorry for myself, play the victim, and redouble my efforts at building walls to protect myself.

Did I “freeze”? Of course. I was stuck, or I thought I was anyway. Immobilized. Unable to move forward or back, right to left, left to right.

I successfully utilized fight, fight and freeze in avoiding my stress and not being a responsible adult with my life.  I was in a perpetual loop; if I tried to change, fight, flight, or freeze would swoop in and hold me back, as if to say, “You’re never getting out of this”.

Then I discovered another word. I had seen I had that option but I really didn’t want to get out of my stress loop. I was accustomed to fighting, or flying or freezing when given anything that stressed me out. I knew what that felt like and what to expect. Eventually, however, doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results is the definition of insanity!

So… my new word? It’ really two. FACE IT. Stop trying to avoid it. Face it.

I had to accept that my choice of wings with blue cheese dressing was a poor decision. I had to accept that binge eating had been a coping skill that was killing me. I had to open my eyes to the new dose of blood pressure meds and the underlying fear of type two diabetes. I had to FACE IT.

Face the fact that the food industry doesn’t care about making me healthy, they care about me purchasing more. Face the fact that if I really want something, I can put on my big girl panties and make a change.

I faced the fact that I was destroying my body and always had been. I faced the fact that I had so much more pain and inflammation. I never got enough sleep. I was fueled by anxiety and fear.

You know what? You can change it. Face it. Stop running, stop avoiding, stop denying. Face it. Would you treat the person you loved the most in this world the way you are treating yourself?

An out of popularity AA slogan is “surrender to win”. That’s exactly what I did. I surrendered. My way was going to kill me. My way was going to perpetuate poor health.

It was time to face it.

It feels good. Not all the time, but most of the time, my pain is less, my confidence is vastly different, I’ve exchanged hope with the weariness I had been feeling. This is MY life. My God-given life. God gave me this body and it is good!

Life can be so much better.

I invite you to join me on this journey. But only if you’re ready.

Peace. 

Living to Die

Living to Die, Dying to Live

I remember when my best friend’s big brother was killed in an accident. The whole town grieved. I remember, very clearly, telling God how loved this guy was, the world needed him back, so please take me and bring him back. I later had a dream that cleared things up for me, but this was the first time I really thought death was better than life.

I grew up in a home with a dad and his weak heart. We were told, quite strictly, to not upset him. Therefore, nothing emotional, as a general rule, was ever discussed, at any length, as I was growing up. I knew he could die any minute, although at the age of five, I was pretty unclear on what that meant.

At some point as a teenager I decided that eternity with God was a whole lot better than to trudge the road here on earth. In the depths of my own-of-control and poorly managed depression, I was often suicidal – not in a “I’m going to jump off this bridge” sort of way, but basically the belief that I’d be better off far, far away, long gone from this earth.

I had no respect for my body. In fact, I hated it a lot. I hated being female, because I saw how we were treated like fragile china plates. I also knew that being female made me vulnerable to sexual abuse. I was all too familiar with that.

At the age of 20, I went to the Air Force recruiter and asked about signing up. My dad had died about a month before my inquiry. They told me I had to lose 15 lbs, I think. At the time I did not feel I was overweight, just that I hated my body and didn’t care for it one iota. Obviously, I never lost the weight, not then anyway.

My untreated depression came to a head when my childhood trauma began to come back to me in flashbacks and body memories. Boy, did my hatred for my body increase then! I was tried on all the different ones, plus mood stabilizers, tranquillizers, benzos, you name it. And another ten pounds would be on the scale.

I have to stop and interject that before and after this time, I was determined to NOT take care of my body in the hopes that it would give out and I could die. I continued to smoke and drink and eat whatever. I didn’t care. This life sucked anyway, what did it matter?

Ok, back to the story. So I met with the shrink in seminary and got lots and lots of meds. After three years, gaining about 40 pounds, I developed a blood clot in my leg which gave me a lot of nerve damage there, and pain. I was on a walker. I was in my internship and thought God had done a cruel joke in calling me into ministry.

I graduated from seminary as a size 24. When I started I had been a 14-16. My leg was painful and numb at the same time, I didn’t know what I was doing, and off I went to be a fulltime pastor. The walls frequently felt they were falling in. I would have a brief reprieve from the depression and feel hopeful, but then crash down again.

My first suicide attempt was in 1979. I didn’t find the right combination of medication and have my depression under control until 2014 or so.

I still hated my body. In addition to the weight, signs of aging were beginning and I also started having chronic pain. Now medicated with opiates, I fought with the same 20 lbs back and forth, hating every inch of me, feeling like a train wreck if I had to see a doctor and they had to see my medical history.

Then I saw a Facebook post from an old friend and how she had lost 70 lbs in eight months. I figured it was all Ozempic. I thought I would ask her about it. And then I became an Optavist.

It hasn’t been three months yet and I’ve almost lost 30 lbs. I’ve gone from a size 20-22W to a 16-18 W, which are loose. I feel GOOD. My pain is greatly decreased. Seeing the pounds come off, I have a great attitude. I want to be with God, yes, but I don’t have to die for that to happen. My aging body continues to grow and change because I am alive!

I am so grateful for this change. I’m so grateful God isn’t done with me yet, that God’s plans for me obviously include living longer and that’s okay. I want to help people not only in the faith walk, but in changing how they feel about their bodies because it will change their lives.

My word to guide me in 2025 is surrender. An old expression from AA used to be “Surrender to Win” and I am winning, y’all. I hope you are, too.