mental health Archives -

The Habitual Quitter

January 20, 2017 by coachshelby 1 Comment

Hi, I’m Shelby and I’m a recovering habitual quitter.

Well that felt good to get off my chest.

I am was the girl who quit. My older sister was pretty and popular. My younger sister was smart. And I was the quitter. It was my thing.

I quit Daisy scouts before even going in because I was too afraid to go in the classroom filled with blue vests. I quit dance team one year because I felt like I would never be as good as the other girls. I’d quit jobs. Quit relationships. Friendships. I was a full blown quitter.

And once you get labeled something, you almost feel like people expect it from you. So many times I would want to sign up for a new activity and my mom would say,

“Now Shelby, if I pay for this, you’re not going to quit again, are you? ”

Well yes, mom. I probably will. The minute it gets scary or I feel inferior, I’m gone.

“Of course not, Mom.” Rolls eyes.

Two weeks later I quit.

I mean it’s like riding a bike. Once you have quit something, it gets easier and easier.

And I am not just talking about jobs or relationships or daisy scouts. I quit on myself.

Maybe it was because I was insecure. Maybe it was because I didn’t like myself. Maybe because I was scared.

But for whatever reason, I couldn’t stop.

When it came to my health, I was the typical yo yo dieter.

Try this magic shake. *Drinks one sip and checks if i’m skinny* Shit, this doesn’t work.

Do this workout dvd. *Can’t breathe or jump or move my body* Screw it. This is a joke.

Calorie restrict for 2 weeks to fit in a dress. *Dress doesn’t fit* Eat the entire kitchen.

See it’s so easy to give up. But eventually, you get tired. You get tired of people expecting you to fail. You get tired of failing yourself. You get tired of starting over. It’s just fucking exhausting.

It wasn’t some grand epiphany. Nothing significant or monumental happened to make it happen. But one day, I just got tired of my own bullshit. I thought to myself,

What will happen if I stop quitting on myself? What if I forgive myself for my mistakes? What if when a lightbulb burns out in my house of life, I don’t try to burn the whole thing down?

And I just stopped giving up on myself. It didn’t happen overnight. It was tiny choices and decisions made each day, each hour each minute.

*You can finish this mile, Shelby. Move your ass*

*Answer your damn phone. Your anxiety is not winning today.*

*So you didn’t lose this week. But you feel better, don’t you? You are not stopping.”

*So you ate a whole cheesecake? That doesn’t mean you don’t get your ass up and work out. You fell down. You aren’t staying down.*

*Share your story. Don’t let the people who don’t understand it make you stop sharing your heart.*

And just like that, I started realizing how strong I am. Strength truly comes from within. Proving the nasty mean voice in your head that tells you you aren’t good enough, wrong.

I am making big changes in my life. I am pursuing my dreams of helping others in their health journey-mentally and physically. I would have never in a million years thought I’d be 3 weeks away from completing what needs to be done to do that. I would have been on the wine wagon drinking away using the unused study flashcards as a coaster.

I am not perfect. I have a past. I have my failures. My flaws. My shortcomings.

I am a lot of things.

But I am NOT a quitter.

Originally posted 2016-02-26 14:32:09.

Eating Disorders come in one size : Miserable

January 20, 2017 by coachshelby 1 Comment

Telling your story is healing. My battle with disordered eating has been something I have fought to overcome for so long. And in a way, I am still healing. But in a day and age of being constantly ‘connected’ in a place where social media is bombarding you with photoshopped false illusions of ideal, it can aggravate and bring to the surface insecurities. Even the fitness and health pages of ‘normal’ people are constantly showing you their highlight reel, perfect angle, best lighting and posed images giving women the idea that their normal isn’t correct. I feel it is so important for anyone with social media influence to keep it real. In a space that’s so often filled with false illusions, unrealistic images leading to unrealistic expectations, and a 20 billion dollar diet industry preying on the vulnerable, we need more voices of what real and healthy is. Healthy is not being perfect- but loving yourself anyway. Healthy is working on you, for you. Not to fill someone else’s ideal. Healthy is knowing that your worth isn’t dependent on the size of your ass, the curve of your backs, the space between your thighs, the number on a scale. Healthy is measured in how much you value your body for what it can do, not what it looks to everyone else and not by how many likes you get on instagram.

My ED story

ed2

The first time I heard my infamous title, I was 14 years old. It was the first day of high school. I walked the already scary, overwhelming halls, and heard it.

“Oh look! S has a little sister. They look so much alike. Except she’s the fat one.”

Were they talking to me? Why are they looking at me like that? I ran into the bathroom and hid in the bathroom stall until I heard the warning bell-crying.

My sister and I had always been compared. In dance, in school, in life- but never in looks. And now I knew and had confirmation for all the things I already felt. I was the ‘fat’ one.

I couldn’t think of anything else the entire day except how fat I was. I was starving from not eating dinner or breakfast from first day jitters. But I wasn’t going to let them see me eat. So I skipped lunch.

This became my thing. Skipping breakfast and lunch and starving all day. And coming home and eating everything I could touch.

And then one day, the purging started.

It took over my life. My life was based on when I could binge and finding ways to cover my purging. My life was based on whether there was a bathroom close enough to where we ate out to purge immediately after. If there wasn’t, I wasn’t going.

No one noticed until it was out of control. It’s not their faults, really. My mom was working 60 hours a week, raising 4 girls all while carting us to and from dance and activities.

I was hospitalized and in and out of treatment centers my entire junior year of high school. I wish I could say it helped, or that I got better. I didn’t, just smarter.

I spent years going in and out of states of half ass recovery and relapse. I’m talking all the way up until I got married and had my first child. That little bitch in my head kept calling myself ‘The Fat Goodrich Sister’. That’s all I was sometimes. Still am on bad days.

I’ll spare every detail. It took a big scary life changing event to wake my ass up. In 2011 I almost lost him. My only saving grace. My son.

My son was diagnosed with a scary, life threatening disease. All of a sudden, my world just changed. Nothing mattered except that little boy. Over the course of a year I spent 67 nights in the hospital bed with him. SIXTY SEVEN days on the hem/onc floor of that children’s hospital. For once, I realized how unimportant all my selfish bullshit self destructive behavior was.

Wake the fuck up, Shelby. This child? Loves you. needs you. Sees your beauty. And he needs a strong, healthy mother. Mentally, physically and spiritually.

I know the point is to rewrite a happy ending. Well, my life is a happy ending. I’m blessed. My son is in remission. I have a beautiful family. I have faith. I have friends. I have a healthy strong body.

ed1

And I have an eating disorder. It doesn’t go away. It stays with you, whether it’s rearing its ugly head or not. ” the fat sister” lives in my head. But she has a new sister in there, telling her to ‘ Shut the fuck up, get over your own bullshit, and see all your amazing blessings.’

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If you are suffering from an ED disorder, there is help. I am always here if you need to talk.

another great ED resource is:

The National Eating Disorder Association : https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org

Helpline: 1-800-931-2237

Originally posted 2016-02-22 08:36:05.

Always send your Thank You notes…

January 20, 2017 by coachshelby Leave a Comment

People give advice all the time.

I give it way more than I probably should.

But everyone has one piece of advice, one tidbit, one little morsel that hits home with them. That they carry with them for the rest of their life. It sticks with them for all different kinds of reasons and they are learned in different seasons. But you will never forget it.

My advice that I carry with me in my heart? A lesson of showing gratitude. Appreciation. Love.

I was always told to write thank you notes.

But it’s the thank you note that I never sent that reminds me just how important it is.

This weekend was emotional. Hell, this past week, month, year has been emotional. For many reasons. But overall, I was just emotional. Reflective. Pondering.

And I came across the thank you note I never sent.

I am blessed beyond measure when it comes to my family. We are all wildly different- but in the big scheme of things I am truly lucky. I have two amazing, smart parents who despite being divorced and having their differences, raised us girls right. (or tried with me-my damn rebellious spirit.) I have 3 beautiful, unique sisters that despite how much we have put each other through, we love each other like no other and know we are always there for one another. Amazing grandparents. 10850263_10152974585997125_5736595902173979974_n 12299324_10205248281545932_925541190688424213_n

And then there was my Aunt Judy. She holds a special place in my heart. My dad’s older sister, was an amazing woman. Despite all my struggles, battles, rebellious streak, trouble I got into, I know going to her house I would feel welcomed. Embraced. Loved. Non judged. I was always greeted with the sweetest, warmest hug. Although she probably never knew it, going to her house every Thanksgiving was an escape. A treat. A light in a sometimes dark young world.

Every holiday, birthday, special occasion, she sent a card. Even when I was well into adulthood. It was a small reminder of her warmth and and kind heart.

Two years ago, she sent a card when my daughter was born with a check and the sweetest words.

And I meant to send a thank you note.

I bought it. Wrote it up. Addressed it.

But life happened and I never sent it.

She passed away from Thyroid cancer last year.

I never did get around to sending that thank you note. And for the longest time it killed me on the inside.

I was too ‘busy’? Too busy to show someone I loved I appreciated them. I loved them. That their kindness and generosity touched me.

What a ridiculous person I was to think I was ‘too’ anything to do the little things that mean the biggest things. Like she had done for me. It broke me up inside.

I keep it on the shelf in my closet. I see it everyday. I keep it there so I can see it, not to make me feel bad-because I know she would forgive me. And I forgive myself. You have to. Forgiveness is a powerful, healing thing.

I keep it there to remind me to slow down.

Life is fleeting.

You have to just slow it all down. Relax. Escape the busy. Cherish and spend time with the ones you love. Remind them how much they mean to you.

In a world so focused on being ‘busy’ and ‘connected’, you have to step back and get busy connecting to the human things. Not a screen. Not how many likes you have on your facebook page. Not how many people follow you on Instagram.

Go play outside. Go hug your mom. Dance in the rain. Call someone. ( The real, dial the number and talk. )

And always send your thank you notes.

12065710_10153784238997125_4187849780494569689_n — Although I look like Buzz’s girlfriend in Home Alone (woof) this was one of the happiest Thanksgiving’s spent at Aunt Judy’s

Originally posted 2016-02-15 07:43:07.

I Am Not Your Victim Anymore

January 20, 2017 by coachshelby 1 Comment

I am a victim of your sexual assault.

I have never uttered those words before. But, you see, I’m tired. Carrying around what should be your guilt for 16 years has exhausted my soul.

You will probably never experience consequences for violating me that night. It was my fault. That’s what you told me. Why would you?

After all, I invited you to that party that night. I drank too much and lost control. I picked out the clothes you held on to when you told me how much I wanted you to touch me. It was my fault I went into that bedroom with you to use the bathroom at the party. It was my fault I was frozen and couldn’t mutter the words get off me when you said, “No one will believe you said no. So might as well do it.”

I stayed silent because I thought I deserved it. I stayed quiet because I thought just because I was able to fight you off and get out of that room before you could get that last article of clothing off me, I wasn’t assaulted. I got drunk, wore too tight of clothes, and I deserved it.

And I’m scared. Scared every time I turn on the news and hear words like ” just locker room talk” or hear sound bytes of powerful men saying things like ” you can do anything you want. And they’ll let you”. It sends me right back to that dark bedroom and all I can feel is a chill running down my spine and your hands on me and I’m that broken, fragile, unworthy girl all over again.

But I have a beautiful girl to raise now. I have this amazing responsibility of teaching her all the beautiful things about herself. I need to teach her she deserves respect. I need her to know her body is her own. I need her to understand that she needs to speak up when bad things happen, even when she’s scared.

So I need to set the example. I will not be scared. I will not accept what happened to me.

You put your hands on me without my consent. That, is the definition of sexual assault.

You stole so much from me. It’s taken me years to understand that I’ll spend my life repairing the harm you did to my self worth in just 30 minutes.

I bet you don’t know that I’ve spent the last 16 years relearning to understand my body is more than the things done to it. I am more than the labels placed upon me that led me to stay silent. You made me feel cheap, disposable, and unworthy. You made me feel that I deserved it.

What you did to me was not okay. I chose to forgive you, for my own inner peace. Although the things you stole from me forced me to become strong and brave, I don’t give you credit for that. I shouldn’t have had to spend my young adult life cleaning up the mess you made of my soul.

But I did.

I am a powerful, brave, ambitious, beautiful, worthy woman. You, nor any person, can take that away from me. I will chose to believe in love and have faith in humanity, despite your hateful disgraceful act against me. I get to chose my place in this world, not you. I will fight fiercely to remind every woman and girl that they are worthy. I will forgive you, because I need to stop being angry. But I will not stay silent.

Xoxo

~~Your victim.~~

A brave, strong, worthy woman.

Originally posted 2017-01-20 08:01:36.

" Just be brave. And be kind. That's all you ever need to be."

January 20, 2017 by coachshelby 1 Comment

I’m gonna hit you with all the feels right now.

In our PCOS FB group, we’re doing a #positivitypause to take a break from all the sad and fill our wall with happy.

And I feel we need some perspective.

God knows I do lately.
I haven’t felt good. I have 2 cysts causing a lot of pain. And when I’m in pain, I’m a mean grumpy carb eating, not so nice words saying troll.

And I know it. But sometimes it’s hard to reel in. You get caught up in the negative. The pessimist mind set. Moaning. Complaining. Blaming others and life for all your misery.
And then last night, as I rolled my eyes and said something not so nice under my breath, which then made me star crying as I noticed my son watching my terrible behavior, he said to me…

” It’s okay momma. Just be brave. And be kind. ”

That was it.

My snap back to reality breaking point to get me out of the chunky dunk funk pool I was swimming in.
You see, I I haven’t yet talked on this blog about my sons health struggles, but if you follow me on Instagram or are in the Facebook group you’ve heard my sons story. The health struggles he’s endured. The life threatening condition hes lived with and handled with grace and dignity of an old soul is an amazing thing for this mama bear to see.

Throughout the rough years, the blood transfusions, the hospital stays, the fear- I was clueless. I didn’t know how to make his world better. And he’d ask me with his little 2 year old voice ” momma what do I do? ”

So I just kept telling him “Just be brave. And be kind. That’s all that ever matters”. And it’s become my mantra to him.
Over the last six years, I didn’t think he was listening.

They’re always listening.
And sometimes it takes your six year old to remind you to get your shit together, suck it up, life can be a lot tougher. harder. Scarier.
So today I will remember to just be brave and be kind.

Because, in the end- that’s all you ever need to be.

( This is one of my favorite pictures. Not just because of his damn chubby cheeks from lots of steroids. But because it reminds me if he can be that strong, GOD damn it- I can, too)

Originally posted 2016-02-09 08:28:11.

It's just my face

January 20, 2017 by coachshelby Leave a Comment

I remember when my mom told me,

“Quit making that face, Shelby. It’ll stay like that.”

She was right. I pretty much am making a ridiculous face all. the. time.

And I truly didn’t notice it until I started posting on social media.

And for the most part, people find it entertaining. Funny. Enjoyable.

But the other day, someone said to me,

“You have such a pretty face. Why the ugly faces?”

Woah, sister Mary Clarence. Is that a passive aggressive insult?

I walked over to the mirror and tried to make a smile without the cheese. It looked so unnatural.

Who is this? This is crazy! Do I always look ridiculous?

So on to my phone I went. Into the selfie section of my iphone. (Anyone else guilty of having 340 selfies? Just me? Okay. Cool.) Every single picture I am making a face.

And I started getting upset. Am I trying to make faces on purpose? No. Am I being silly on purpose? No. Am I trying to make people laugh? No. But if they do, hey- why not?

And I got an introspective and deep and tried for the next 3 days to not make “my faces”. It was so hard. It was unnatural.

And I caught myself thinking,

Why on Earth do I care what this woman thinks of me and my faces? It’s me. It’s part of who I am. F*ck her and her passive aggressive b*llshit. I’m going to keep being me.

So naturally after coming to this realization, I grew the guts to finally reply to her comment on facebook. I wrote back,

“It’s just my face.”

And hit her with the cheesiest, Shelbiest selfie I could muster up.

My point:

Don’t let people make you question who you are. Don’t let people hiding behind a keyboard with their big bullying ways make you doubt the awesome sauce qualities you possess. I am guilty of it, too. We are all human.

But letting that get under your skin will only hold back your true amazing shining self. I am not going to let ‘Passive aggressive Pammy’ make me change or do anything different.

Your people will love you just the way you are. The haters will always hate. And it says more about how they feel about themselves than anything else.

Keep rocking it. Keep being amazing. Chin up and face to the sky.

Funny faces and all.

Originally posted 2016-02-07 08:22:17.

PCOS, Hair loss, and amazing headbands…

January 20, 2017 by coachshelby 8 Comments

"but my hair is my thing" — “but my hair is my thing”

I debated whether to write about this topic. Not because I am ashamed, embarrassed or trying to hide it. In fact, it’s the exact opposite. I joined this big bad social media world in an effort to find other women just like me, dealing with PCOS, and who are not letting it control their life. And along the way, I have myself become a voice in this. And I am proud of that. I want to show other women with PCOS that they aren’t alone. We are all dealing with and struggling through the adversities we have been handed.

But on the flip side, I don’t want PCOS to be my identity. I am more than PCOS. We are all more than the struggles we are facing.

It’s off topic, but this came to light the other day at the gym. It was the strangest and coolest experience I’ve had. I saw two girls staring at me. THE.WHOLE.TIME. I was working out. I was thinking, “Can a girl get some squat work in without others creepin’ on me? Ya I know my gym clothes don’t match and my hair is greasier than the bacon pan sitting on my counter from breakfast- but c’mon. We are all here to get work done.” And I continued on, and went about the rest of my sets. And I found them in the bathroom, before I left, and one said ” You are that PCOS girl. The one with funny faces and great hair. On instagram!”

Oh fuck. Now I’m the asshole who thought they were judging me. Geeze, Shelby. Chill out.

And we chatted and talked for a good half an hour and I found out they both have PCOS and I made two new friends. And as we said goodbye, one of my new home girls said, “You are so much more than funny faces and great hair. I’m so glad you are real.”

**Am I putting it out there I am fake? Shit. We gotta fix that**

Dose of realness for the day: hair loss

My hair has always been my thing. Even when I was heavy and couldn’t fit in my clothes and had to wear stretch errrrrthing, my hair could always look good. It never betrayed me.

Until it did.

After I had my daughter, my hair was coming out. And I’m not just talking a little bit. I am talking handfuls and clumpfuls at a a time. I would wake up in the morning with a rat sized hair ball on my pillow.

To make it worse, I was heavier than I ever had been, I was in the the deepest, darkest pits of postpartum depression, and I was tired. Not the “didn’t get enough sleep last night tired” the “I’ve been up for 4 days straight crying and trying to take care of a baby who I think hates me because she won’t stop crying and I can’t fix it and my world is ending” tired.

I couldn’t believe that it was happening. As if I wasn’t dealing with enough issues already.

But one day, I just decided I didn’t want to let that be one more thing I was sad about. I may be chubby, and tired and crabby, but I WILL NOT HAVE BAD HAIR.

So I started researching. What can I do to get my hair healthy and growing and not falling out in chunks?

HAIR REPAIR STEPS WITH PCOS

BIOTIN: I started taking biotin. It is a vitamin that helps preserve and promote hair, skin and nail health. I still take it to this day. ( You do NOT need some fancy, 40 dollar MLM magic pill, I promise you. My biotin costs 4 dollars at Walmart, y’all.)

NIOXIN: To promote regrowth, I started using the Nioxin shampoo system. You can buy it from your hairstylist, buy it at a reputable salon or even on Amazon. It helps thinning hair and I saw tremendous regrowth in the months that I used it.

Clean eating: I started cleaning up my diet. When I cut the processed junk out of my diet, my overall health improved. But so did my hair. It’s so important to understand everything you put into your body affects the outside of your body. Skin. Hair. Weight.

FitnessFoxheadbands: I was in the depths of depression when my hair started falling out. I was sad and tired. I wanted so badly to feel confident about my hair when I felt so insecure about everything else going on in my life. I went to the internet in search of a headband that would not only cover my thinning spots in my temples, but be stylish, and wouldn’t pull to prevent even more breakage and loss and wouldn’t give me ‘headband headache’. I found the etsy shop FitnessFoxHeadbands. They were so cute, and so inexpensive- I had to try them. I am so glad I did. I am still wearing them almost daily, even though my hair has improved. I wear them to the gym. To Target. Out at night. I am not one to promote or discuss products, but I am so passionate about them. They truly helped me feel more secure and pretty when I was in a bad place.

*If you want more info on Fitnessfoxheadbands, check them out on instagram (@fitnessfoxheadbands) or at their website www.fitnessfoxheadbands.com and use my code SHELBYE and you can buy 4 get 2 free!

This morning I noticed my hair is thinning again, in my temples area. And I am going to restart Nioxin, and make sure my eating is clean and I am taking my vitamins. And I am going to be okay with even if I am doing everything right and treating my body the best I can, sometimes we can’t fix everything. I will do my best, and rock headbands until then. And I will be real and accepting of the fact that this might just be my hair. My hair will always be my thing. And I will make bald temples cool.

Originally posted 2016-01-30 10:50:59.

Anxious Extrovert

January 20, 2017 by coachshelby 5 Comments

I know that sounds like a contradiction.

I enjoy being around people. I enjoy laughing and hanging out and being around others.

But the problem lies in the actually getting to that point. It takes a lot for me to get over my anxiety to actually get me out the door.

Just recently, a girl I went to high school with happened to relocate down to Georgia from my home state. And she happened to wind up around the block from me. I was extremely stoked.

‘Wow. A real live non internet friend. One that I can get drinks with and go out with and take a break from mommy life with. This is great.’

And we talked and chatted and I was excited for her arrival.

Until she actually moved down here.

My phone rang.

Why is she calling me? Are we on that level? What do I say?

I immediately felt bad as soon as it stopped ringing. What the hell was I afraid of? Why was it so hard to do something that made me feel the least bit uncomfortable? I then hopped right on Facebook messenger, our normal comfy way of communicating, and came up with some excuse as to why I couldn’t answer. She said she was near my house and wanted to see if the kids wanted to play. That’s it. Just a friendly spontaneous playdate. Not the end of civilization as we know it.

Damn you, anxiety. You’re making a liar out of me. The dog wasn’t down the street and you missed the call. You were staring at your screen waiting for it to stop ringing.

I’ve always been like this. I needed ample time to prepare and control my anxious feelings and worries of others judging me. I don’t know why I assume people are judging. I was constantly making lists and excuses and stories up to why I couldn’t get out of my comfort zone. Explanations in my head for why stepping out side of it would lead to my social death.

It was crippling at times.

And no one believes me when I say I have anxiety. That I’ve suffered with it for years.

“You’re so friendly and outgoing and funny and easy to get along with. That’s impossible.”

Oh honey, come hang out with me before I have to go to any social outing where I am outside my comfort zone. You’ll witness it. While you’re at it, bring the Xanax.

And I am a natural born leader. I enjoy parties. I’m loud and friendly.

-but-

I am a flake. I am awkward. I hate surprises.

A walking contradiction, really.

I was lonely. I was in a new state. I was either doing work or with my kids and that was it. I needed to get out of my comfort zone. As easy and familiar as it was to stay in that bubble of caution, it was quite literally hindering my growth. My kids don’t want to talk to me about wine and carbs and the gym. Either does my cat, trust me, I’ve tried. Little bitch.

So the next week, this new friend tried again. She didn’t give up hope on making our friendship work. She asked me to come hang out with her while her kids were out of town. And we were having a great time. And then she sneak attacked me with, “We’re going to go to a social networking event for women. Tonight. Get ready.”

Slow your roll, homie-what? No. I’m not prepared for this. How can I sneak out of her house when shes not looking? I’ll say a squirrel bit me and I had to go home. Shut up Shelby, Get your shit together.

I finally decided to face my fears of last minute plans. Let go of my fear of judgement. I had to just get over my own bullshit.

“Okay, Let’s fucking do this. Where’s the wine? ”

We went. And we had a blast. We talked for hours and laughed. We talked like we had known each other for years. I even peed in front of her after too much wine. If that doesn’t say friendship, I don’t know what does.

After the night was over, I went home back to my comfy bubble. I felt sad. How much had I missed out on in the past because I was uncomfortable? Because I refused to face my anxious fears? How long had I been letting my own ridiculous notions of others perceptions of me hinder my growth?

Looking back, every time I’ve gotten out of my comfort zone-whether forced or on my own doing-I’ve had a positive experience. Not once did I say, ” I really regret doing this.” I have however regretted when I stayed back- held back.

I am not saying the anxious Shelby will ever go away. She needs to be nudged and pushed into new situations all the time.

Take for instance this social media world. I am anxious and nervous and apprehensive with every post. But every time I put my heart out there, I am glad I did. Because the truth is, we all have our things. Our issues. Our quirks. And sometimes it takes seeing that other people are kinda like you to be more okay with that.

So here’s to all my anxious extroverts. I’m here for you if you ever need someone to talk to. (Just make sure it’s an email. Or a text. No phone calls. Don’t work me up like that.)

Originally posted 2016-01-28 14:22:07.

Today I’m Thankful For PCOS

January 20, 2017 by coachshelby 1 Comment

Today I will sit around the table, surrounded by loved ones. We will do as we do every year. We will reflect and say one at a time the thing we are most grateful for in our lives.

I’m sure the regulars will come out.

Family.

Friends.

A home.

A Job.

And then they will get to me.

I know what I want to say. I’ve been reflecting about this for some time. I have been trying to figure out how exactly to express the thing I am most grateful for. So instead I’ll likely joke and say ‘leggings’ and or carbs and life goes on.

But I want to tell you. I think it’s important.

It is for me this year.

(Before I tell you, I want you to promise to hear me out? It is going to sound crazy. But…trust me, okay?)

I am thankful for PCOS.

Yes. You did not misread. I am thankful for the condition that has wrecked havoc on my body, mind and life.

Please Understand I am not trying to lie and say I am glad I have this diagnosis. Chronic illness isn’t something you can just sugarcoat with positivity and smiles and make it seem like it’s anything less than it is.

It sucks.

I am certainly not sitting here trying to convince you to give thanks that something bad has happened to you. I am not thankful for losing my aunt too soon. I am not grateful my dog is sick. I am not thankful for the fatal crash I witnessed last week.

I wouldn’t wish PCOS on another woman. If I was given the choice, I promise you I wouldn’t chose to have PCOS. If they woke up tomorrow and had a cure for it, I’d be in line. It is horrible sometimes. It has made for some bad, scary trying dark days.

I remember one of the dark days. On this August day, I wasn’t grateful for PCOS. Laying curled up on the floor of the bathroom, the chills of the square bathroom tiles were cold on my skin, I lay there. In that dark moment, as I fought between uncontrollable sobbing and fighting back the sound escaping my lips so no one would hear, I traced the tiles edges to make the time disappear. I wanted to disappear. As I did, I remembered something someone once told me.

It’s a bad day, not a bad life.

I sat up from that floor, and thought,

“Shelby get through the next minute. It’s just a minute. “

I got through it.

And thought,

I did it.

Now what?I have grown to realize it’s all in what you do in those ‘Now What?’ moments. It’s then when you have you decide. What’s next? It’s when you have to make a choice.

For me that particular August day, it was deciding to accept and face whatever ‘bad’ day/pain/fear/situation. I would find something good. If I couldn’t find something good, I would find something valuable.

That day was the day I got online and typed in PCOS Support. I was shocked at how little information there was available. Even worse, in the support forums, it was all so sad and negative. Women talking about all the things and dreams and happiness PCOS was going to take from them.

Today, I am grateful for all the things PCOS has given me.

On those that I had to go school and face being called the ‘fat sister’ by the senior boys because I’d rather cry in the bathroom than tell my mom about it, I learned to be resilient.

I’d like to say it played a part in giving me my wit and sense of humor. Being the fat friend wasn’t easy, so I learned to be funny instead.

I learned patience, while I waited for an explanation year after year for why my body was acting different or didn’t feel right. I stayed patient while my body failed me cycle after cycle.

And when I had enough of feeling clueless about my own body, I became my own health advocate.

It’s really hard to love a body you don’t understand or feel comfortable in. It has been one of the hardest thing’s I’ve done, letting go of expectations of what to look like and hatred of my own body for not following suit but I’ve discovered self love. When you start to love yourself, amazing things happen. When you love yourself you forgive yourself. Self forgiveness lead me to bravery in ways I wouldn’t understand. But I chose to have to believe things happen for a reason.

And today, on Thanksgiving, PCOS gives me hope.

That August day I felt hopeless. I can’t tell you why I suffered that early loss that summer. I don’t know how I wound up feeling so alone and wanting to disappear myself, surviving by getting through minutes. I thought for the longest time that PCOS just wanted to take away everything good in my life.

So I don’t know what possessed me to seek out support online. On any other given day I probably would have joined in with the other women feeling victimized and letting our diagnosis take away from our lives. But I didn’t. Maybe I was ready to accept my diagnosis. Maybe I wanted to help.

Maybe I refused to let PCOS take one more thing from me.

Whatever it was, I wasn’t looking back.

And so I am grateful, because that day

PCOS Saved my life.

( It just took a really round about explanation to realize that.)

and when I get stuck in a ‘Now What?’ situation, I remember…

It’s a bad day, not a bad life.

(To the amazing souls I have been blessed with through entering this PCOS community, I am grateful for you. I am entirely blown away every single day by the inspiring, remarkable humans you are. And to the souls who dare to share their stories even when it’s scary, who forgive and love themselves fearlessly, and don’t ever quit-I’m grateful for you. You are an inspiration. Keep being brave. )

Originally posted 2016-11-24 05:01:29.

PCOS and Dieting= a fatal combination

January 20, 2017 by coachshelby Leave a Comment

PCOS sucks. There. I said it. It is the most common endocrine disorder among women, and it doesn’t just affect one area of your body. It takes over the whole damn thing. It can cause infertility, facial hair, male pattern baldness, anxiety and depression, infertility, insulin resistance that can lead to diabetes and the best part- it makes you more prone to being overweight, especially in your stomach.

Fun stuff, right?

Well add this into the mix. Society hates fat people. I said it. The society we live in tends to judge overweight people as being lazy and lacking self-control.

Can I tell you something? I am a woman with PCOS, and I have tried and fought to lose weight my whole life. Spoiler alert, it didn’t work most of the time. I tried every extreme, quick fix, straddling the fine line into disordered eating, only to see the scale budge a few pounds. After a while, your body can’t continue in that extreme state and quite frankly, it makes your body more prone for other issues. So I couldn’t figure out how to lose weight. It wasn’t due to lack of self-control, or being lazy and unmotivated. I just couldn’t understand why I couldn’t lose or keep weight off.

Well, I was dieting. All well and great, right? Wrong. Because with dieting I have found a cycle of stages we often find ourselves stuck in.

I am sure you are reading this and you can relate. Whether it was a 30 day magic shake diet or a year long one. I am sure you have gained weight back, or have felt like you failed your diet.

Here’s a secret: Diets Don’t Work!

In fact, I am case in point that goes to show dieting can lead to disordered eating. Let me explain.

I spent most of my life hating my body. Here I am: overweight, unable to lose it, not understanding why I could work out and eat like other women and not lose, and being judged by a society that’s flooded with weight stigma and pressure to be thin. Yea, I disliked my body. And I wanted to change it. So I wanted to try anything to change it. ANYTHING.

Fun fact I didn’t know before my diagnosis of PCOS and my education and research: Most women with PCOS have insulin resistance. Insulin resistance makes it extremely difficult to lose weight. (See my last post about this.) Also, high levels of insulin in the blood turn off the satiety trigger ( the feeling of being full) which leads to tendencies to binge.

Here’s the lethal combination:

PCOS making weight loss difficult+pressure from society to lose weight and be thin= birth of my eating disorder.

Did you know of all mental illnesses, eating disorders has the highest fatality rate? True story. But we aren’t here to discuss ED. Another day. Let’s get back to why we are here. The dirty word- Dieting.

This constant cycling of dieting to binge is disastrous on our bodies. The yo-yo dieting cycle causes higher insulin levels and higher inflammation levels in the body. With PCOS, you already are at a disadvantage with your predisposition to insulin resistance.

When insulin levels are high, so are carb cravings. Ever find yourself saying, ” I need some freaking bread or I’m going to hurt someone!!” ?You can thank your body insulin for being a raging bitch.

So what do some in the PCOS world suggest? GET RID OF ALL CARBS ! THEY ARE THE DEVIL!

Let’s slow down. We don’t want to break up with carbs before we have to, right? I wouldn’t. For most, removal of all carbs is not necessary and in some cases, unhealthy. For myself, when I abstained from carbs I found 3 things:

I was more likely to binge> raising insulin levels
I felt restricted and limited> lead to disordered eating tendencies
Continued my cat and mouse game with the cycle of dieting. ( see above.)

So what the actual heck do you do with PCOS if diets don’t work?

On my next post: The non dieting guide to PCOS

Originally posted 2016-11-01 21:23:50.