January 2015 saw me at the lowest of the lows. I had a painfully stiff neck that radiated up my jaw to my temple, and a pinched nerve in my neck which sent me to a wonderful chiropractic office that also focused on the whole person. I subsequently found out that I suffered from chronic gastritis (stress and diet play huge factors), I was gluten intolerant, I had a leaky gut. No more soft pretzels or pizza or italian bread or cake or cookies or… No more Margaritas or wine or an ice-cold brewskie or… No more cumin in my chili or any other spices in my food beyond salt and tumeric… No more of the healthy foods I loved to eat because they bothered me.
Over the next several months, I sunk into depression, low enough that all I could do was sit on the couch and watch stupid movie upon stupid movie and hide from the world, non-communicative. All the while, I refused to take happy pills for it because I knew I was not clinically depressed. I was having a spell, if you will, and I just needed to honor it and see it through to its end. But boy, oh boy, was it lasting a good long time!
I couldn’t write a decent creative sentence if my life depended on it, and frankly, I didn’t care if I ever wrote another word. That depressed me even more- that my passion had seemingly died. And it scared the living shit out of me because a muscle not used gets rusty. I will admit, I am rusty, but not beyond repair!
I grieved my losses, I became angry, resentful, intolerant to situations where I was forced to be surrounded by the very foods and drinks I couldn’t have. Imagine an alcoholic being invited to a party at a bar or a diabetic invited to a dessert party. Yes, I was expected to attend a wine party with neighbors and an afternoon tea with my family. I finally said, ENOUGH! Never again would I subject myself to these brutal situations. Never. And I haven’t.
My homeopathic doctor set out to cure all of these problems and said that I would heal from the newest issue to the earliest and from the inside out. I was thrilled to know this, but I’d lost my “happy,” so the smile didn’t linger on my face. In fact, I told her I’d lost my happy and would like to get it back. My mind and soul needed time to heal, just like my body. For a person not on friendly terms with patience, I was glad to know that I’d feel better, but sore about the time-frame.
A turn-around came by way of an offer of help from a very dear person, Jessica. The rest, as I say, is the present. Why not history? I am still working on me. I’m working on understanding my limiting beliefs and fears that keep me from manifesting my dreams through abundance rather than lack. I meditate, I visualize, I listen to classes on personal growth, ALL THE TIME. I read numerology forecasts and astrology to a point. I believe in chakra healing and tapping EFT. When my thoughts turn dark, I run for my supports, and they help me from staying down for days. Now, it’s only hours.
There is so much more I have to do before I can admit victory over my limiting beliefs and fears, but I’ve only just started. As Deepak Chopra teaches us, I’ve set my intentions. Now I have to let it go and live in the flow. I look for signs, I listen to my intuition, and I express gratitude several times a day.
I kind of feel like my life right now is that movie title, How Stella Got Her Groove Back, only it’s How Deena Got Her Happy Back. I’ll be turning 50 in December. It’s time I live this half of my life for me, the healthier, happier me. The me that has her HAPPY back full-time. I’m close. I’m real close. And I won’t stop until I feel abundance has entered my life and taken up permanent residence.
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