Isn't it funny how some of the things or places we love so much in life bring us comfort, nurture, inspire and restore us, yet also smack us in the face at the same time? I'm talking about having a seemingly perfect 'Return to LA' trip, only for it end on an absolute bombshell. No- I'm not talking about the earthquake. I didn't even feel it as I was busy tucking into an In-N-Out burger. I'm talking about a chilling and utterly mind boggling phone call from a ghost of my past, which threw me more than any 7.2 on the Richter scale would. I'd rather not give them the airtime on this blog, but there's a couple of important takeaways from this event I'd like to acknowledge: Anger is a better emotion than sadness. At least in anger there is strength, and you realise how far you've come. Just make sure you channel that anger wisely- like hitting the all-you-can eat buffet in the airport lounge, then sleeping off your food coma on the plane. Secondly- for anyone that's unaware, anybody you've blocked can still ring you if they've changed their number but yours remains the same! Block that new shit ASAP! And continue living a peaceful life.
Sigh*..... I love you LA but you always serve me something right at the 11th hour that I wasn't planning on ordering. Anyway, once back on solid Manchester ground after a delay at Dublin, most normal people would give themselves at least a day to reflect, acclimatise, try and beat the jet lag, go to Aldi etc. But not me! I was up early the next morning to pick up a hire car and drive to Knockhill in Scotland.
1. Because I'm a crazy person and 2. because I didn't want to miss a BTCC round! With my tan fading fast and LA starting to be a distant memory, I was straight back to Sophie-life which seemed to consist of numerous appointments. Starting with the most important of all: the results of the MRI on my head. Are there tumours on my pituitary gland? Am I going to need my head cut open and operated on? Will I become a vegetable if that goes wrong? Or is there nothing there and my pituitary gland is just having a very long day (years!) off? Or is it benign tumours living on my gland, doing nothing sinister that's going to kill me, but still stopping it from working? Am I dying a slow death? Because I sure feel it being THIS tired every day. SO MANY QUESTIONS!!!
The answer: none of the above. My small but mighty master gland looked normal on the scan, with no additional lumps and bumps (unlike my left knee thanks to all my new metal work) My bloods were also normal, apart from my hormone levels which were non existent and we already knew about, hence HRT.
So, I'm not dying. Thank God! I felt relief merged with slight frustration as I begged the question "So what is it then? Why isn't my pituitary gland working?"
"Years of high stress and living in an anxious state." The endocrinologist said.
Yes this does resonate, but is this just since I lost mum?
"No, this has been years in the making.." she was quick to correct me. "It's taken years for your bones to get this bad."
I gazed down at the ugly medical bin all doctors seem to have in their treatment rooms, as the final piece of the puzzle fell into place in my mind. Basically, I broke my femur because I'm stressed?!
Our bodies are so clever. As soon as we enter into that fight or flight mode, our female system goes "Shit! I'm in no fit state to produce a child right now, I'm just trying to survive! I'd better shut this reproductive system down right away!"
So unbeknownst to me, my pituitary gland stops trading for business, stops producing hormones for my body, no longer sending anything to my ovaries (hence no periods for years) and as my oestrogen levels start declining, so does my bone density. Rapidly. My trauma levels reach an all time high losing mum in July and peaks at the ultimate crescendo of physical pain in October when I snap the biggest bone in my body, at the season finale at Brands Hatch.
"My name is Sophie and I'm a stressed and anxious person." Said like an alcoholic would at their first AA meeting. The first few times I admitted it to those closest to me and said it out loud, I'd break down in tears. Those who aren't as close to me or don't know me at all would never in a million years think I was a stressed person. "She's always so happy! Always so positive." But they're not the ones roaming round the avenues of my mind at 3:00 in the morning.
Here's how it makes more sense to me: my personality is happy, bubbly, joyful, enthusiastic, positive- that's my soul's identity, the true essence of Sophie! But I suffer feelings of stress and anxiety, and they are affecting me deeply. I am NOT my feelings. I am my personality. My goal now is to learn to deal with my feelings. Nana always said "Stress is no good for anyone" and she's right.
What's stressing you right now? It could be things you don't care to admit or aren't serving you anymore. It's a lot to chew on I know, and I'm still trying to figure it all out (aside from the obvious) as there's no quick fix for this. The doctor told me it's up to me to do the inner work. To re-evaluate my life, take a good look at my lifestyle, my relationships, my work... I need to figure out what brings me inner peace and what is actually stealing it. The scary thing is- all my meditation, journaling, walking and affirmations clearly aren't working, so where do I go from here? Maybe we all need to start being truly honest with ourselves for the first time in years? But just remember: YOU ARE NOT YOUR FEELINGS! You are just being affected by them. A bit like food poisoning... you never were and never will be a dodgy curry. You'll have just experienced feelings of a bad massala kicking your intestinal tract at some point in your life. Similar to something you've internalised that is massively stressing your nervous system.
I've tried all the weird and wonderful therapies you can think of over the years, apart from acupuncture. It's worth a try, so I'm going next week to have a load of ultra-fine needles stuck into me, and I'll resemble a human pincushion. I'm not a fan of needles but I'd rather try this then cold plunge therapy. Or drugs that alter my brain. That said, everyone is different so please do whatever works for you and brings you peace. Do more of that! As long as you're not hurting anyone else, and most importantly, not hurting yourself.
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