Healing IBS at the Source

A practical word-sketch on managing symptoms of IBS and a poetic word-sketch on healing it at the source.

For as long as I can remember, I've had stomach problems. I actually missed a lot of school in the third grade because of them and almost had my gallbladder taken out. Thankfully, when my mom called my dad to tell him what the doctor said, he demanded that we get a second opinion. The second doctor found that my gallbladder was actually fine and he suggested that my stomach problems might actually be anxiety.

This wasn't the first time I'd heard this word that I didn't fully understand.

When I was in the second grade, we started having homework assignments to read aloud each night to our parent or caregiver. One night my mom and I sat on the couch to read. By the second sentence I felt like I couldn't breathe. I kept trying to breathe deeply, but couldn't get a full breath. My mom called her aunt, a pediatric nurse, and she suggested that I could be having an anxiety attack.

We moved from Minnesota to Idaho the summer between these two instances of anxiety. Our physical move was an outward depiction of a fundamental shift that happened within me. I went from being outgoing, "bossy", and social at school, to quiet, reserved, and withdrawn.

It wasn't the move to a knew state, but the shift I sensed within my mom, that really contributed to this feeling of instability. She was fighting demons that had hitched a ride with her long ago and I could tell she was growing tired of the fight. She started to become more withdrawn and spent more time in her room with the door shut. She started to turn to drinking more and more frequently to try and numb the pain, quiet the noise.

For as long as I can remember, I haven't been very good at paying attention to my feelings. Don't get me wrong, I am absolutely 100% a feeler (hello INFJ), but I chose to trade feeling for the sterile, black-and-whiteness of logic (hello unhealthy, enneagram 3). It's as if I would take all the feelings I didn't want to feel and shut them up in my stomach. A stomach ache and queasiness were safe problems to have -- fear, anxiety, anger, sadness, and emotional pain? Not so much.

So, I unconsciously traded the emotional pain for physical pain. The problem with that is you're only able to put a Band-Aid on the gaping wound, instead of addressing the wound itself.

Even though I've spent the last 3 years addressing the deep wounds, I still struggle with stomach issues. I think in-part because my body has grown accustomed to presenting emotional pain with physical pain. So, I'm working on trying to listen.

Part of this listening, was finally going to the doctor for my stomach issues, just to be sure they truly weren't something else.

You might be wondering by now, "Erin, what are these stomach issues you're talking about?" Well, since you asked...

• Severe cramping

• Bloating, abdominal pressure

• Feeling like I'm going to vomit (nausea, queasiness)

• Gas

• Loose stools

• Infrequent bowel movements

• Did I mention severe cramping?

I recently started having much more frequent and severe episodes so, like I said, I finally decided to go to the doctor. It was my way of saying, "Okay, body, I hear you."

The doctor ran a bunch of tests, but he was pretty sure I had Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS). IBS is tricky as there isn't a specific test to diagnose it; it's a diagnoses of elimination (pun intended). Essentially, they run a bunch of tests for anything and everything it could be. When they all come back negative, you're diagnosed with IBS.

Well, all the tests came back negative, so the doctor recommended the following:

• Start taking a fiber supplement daily

• Try the low-FODMAP diet

• Exercise at least 3 times a week

• Drink plenty of water

• Continue therapy

P.S. these symptoms can also be a sign of other serious underlying conditions. Do not take my experience and use it as a tool for self-diagnoses. Instead, follow my lead and go see a doctor.

Trauma and IBS

As I do, I did a bunch of research on IBS and found there's a high correlation between trauma in childhood and IBS as an adult. There's also a high correlation between depression, anxiety, and IBS.

I'm not gonna lie. This first bit of news kind of felt like being kicked while I was down. It felt like just one more thing that had been taken from me and it was just another way my past traumas were hindering my present life. I let myself grieve, to both despair and rage over the unfairness of it.

And now I'm moving back into the fault vs. responsibility headspace once again.

The truth of the matter is I am dealing with symptoms of IBS. I can choose to wallow in it, to allow it to destroy my present joy, or I can choose to do my best to work within the reality of the situation, and hopefully mitigate the symptoms.

I'm choosing to walk the balance beam between listening to my body's cries and finding the joy of now.

Resources I'm trying

Here's what I'm currently trying to manage/reduce my symptoms of IBS:

Regular Girl (Fiber)

The doctor I saw, recommended Metamucil, but after some digging, I don't think Metamucil is IBS-friendly. Same with Benefiber, which were the two options available to me at my local stores.

So, I took to the internet and found Regular Girl.

It's "Low FODMAP Certified, Glyphosate Residue Free Certified, Non GMO Project Verified, Organic Certified, Gluten Free, Vegetarian and Kosher."

Now, when the doc first said, "You need to take a fiber supplement every day." My first thought was but I'm not constipated. Come to find out, fiber helps both with hard bowel movements as well as loose ones.

I've been taking Regular Girl everyday for about a week and a half now. Things are definitely more solid and regular, so I plan to continue with it.

Also, it mixes up almost clear in water (you wouldn't even be able to see it in any other drink) and it has a very slight bread-like, nut-like taste to it. I just drink it in the morning in a cup of water and the taste is pretty neutral to me -- I don't love it, I don't hate it, it just is.

Low-FODMAP Diet

FODMAPs are sugars (carbohydrates) that aren't completely absorbed or digested by our intestines. This is true of all people, not just folks with IBS. The difference is people with IBS have more "motility issues", read constipation and/or diarrhea, and highly sensitive guts.

When I first looked at the list of foods to eat and not to eat, I was super discouraged. BUT it's important to note that the low-FODMAP diet is actually a 3-part diet:

1. You start by eating a low-FODMAP diet and avoid all foods with high or moderate FODMAPs.
   

2. Once your symptoms are under control (they say generally 2-6 weeks), then you start the re-introduction phase. Continue eating a low-FODMAP diet and reintroduce one of the FODMAPs for 3 days, increasing the amount consumed over the 3 days. Then see how your body responds. Go back to completely low-FODMAP for a few days and then try another FODMAP type. Repeat until you've gone through all the different FODMAP types.
   

3. The goal is to find your FODMAP threshold and triggers. Once you've identified which FODMAPs are triggers, just work to avoid those ones. You can then go ahead and eat the ones that don't seem to trigger symptoms.

As with most things in life, there's an app for that. I downloaded the Monash University Low FODMAP diet app and it has been super helpful as I navigate this new lifestyle. They use a traffic light system to easily identify which foods are low, moderate, or high FODMAP. It also shows you "safe" serving sizes of foods that could be high FODMAP depending on how much of it you eat.

Exercise

Once upon a time, I was a runner. I ran 3-4 times a week and regularly ran up to 10 miles on my Saturday runs. As I've been working on healing the wounds of my past, my physical health has kind of taken a back seat. I tend to eat high-sugar, calorie-dense foods when I'm emotionally hungry. It's also a TON of work processing unresolved trauma, so I haven't exactly had extra energy to work out.

All of that to say, I haven't been taking very good care of myself, at least not physically, even though I know when I'm physically healthy I tend to feel better mentally as well. I'm not in the right physical condition to do my favorite type of exercise, running, so I've been looking for other ways to move my body.

I've started walking to and from work each day. It's only about a 15-minute walk, but I'm working on adding movement wherever I can. Now that the weather is getting nicer, we've been going for walks after dinner a couple nights a week too.

I'm working on taking a break at work every 2 hours to do some squats, jumping jacks, or light jogging in place. They have timers you can download to your computer or just set an alarm on your phone if you're like me and need a little nudge.

My daughter also loves to dance, so we occasionally turn on music at home and follow the old adage "dance like nobody's watching". Besides, my daughter's 4 and still thinks I'm, like, the best dancer so it's a bit of a confidence booster too.

I've had a number of people recommend searching YouTube for exercises, but I tend to find typical exercise videos overwhelming. They have super loud, intense music and they keep yelling at me to "try harder!" "keep going!" "don't give up!" I know this works for a lot of people, but it just stresses me out.

And then I stumbled on this lovely 7-day video series:

She doesn't say a word the entire time and it's freaking magic. I love it. She uses a series of gentle beeps to let you know when the next exercise is up or to switch sides. She puts a clip of the next exercise on the screen and shows you what you'll be doing next instead of telling you.

Not all of her videos are like this, but this series is, and there's 7 videos so I can do this for a while and still have adequate variation of exercises.

Hydrate

I'm actually pretty good at staying hydrated, but I didn't use to be. It was definitely a process, but I finally found a method that works for me.

I try to drink about 96 ounces of water a day, or 3 of my 32-oz Hydro Flask. I'm usually downstairs around 7am each morning, so that's my hydration start time. I fill my Hydro Flask and take my medication (Zoloft) and vitamin. I try to stop drinking water by 7pm each night.

So, that gives me 12 hours of hydration time. 12 divided by 3 is 4 so, I try to finish my first 32-oz by 11am, the next by 3pm, and the last one by 7pm.

I've also found if I set it beside me at work with the lid off, I'm more likely to take drinks periodically throughout the day.

Some people have told me they find they drink more with a straw, but proceed with caution. Using straws can allow more air into your tum and that won't really help our cause of minimizing gas and bloat.

Counseling

While all of the above mentioned things are great and can be incredibly helpful, the greatest trigger of IBS symptoms is anxiety.

I cannot recommend counseling enough. Eating healthy is important. Exercising and moving your body is important. Making sure you're getting enough water is important.

But these can be like putting a bandaid on a gunshot wound if you're not attempting to heal the source.

Unresolved trauma will continue to fester and infect your system until it's addressed -- cleaned out, treated, and healed. I know this from personal experience and this message is as much for me as it is for you.

Don't just manage your anxiety, like I did for years. That anxiety is trying to tell you something and simply trying to make it go away without listening to it is just going to make it yell louder.

Find a trained professional that doesn't just give you visualization exercises and deep-breathing techniques, but who's willing to wade into the pain and find the source. No matter how many bandaids you put on it, that bullet needs to be removed.

That's not to say that those techniques aren't useful or helpful -- deep breathing has gotten me through many nights of panic attacks -- I'm just saying, as someone who's been there and who is there, that the anxiety needs to be addressed at the source.

A final thought on self-care

If I had a dollar for every time someone responded to my admittance of dealing with anxiety with, "You just need to practice more self-care" ...well...

I would have a lot of dollars, that's all I'm sayin'.

Similar to the above section about counseling, getting my hair done or taking time for myself felt like throwing cotton balls at a locked door and expecting it to open. I'm throwing the freaking cotton balls and they're just bouncing off the door, and I'm sweating from the exertion, and my arm hurts from straining to throw them harder, and I have mascara running down my face, sobbing out of frustration and the stupid. door. is. still. locked.

It's because my heart-position (intention, motivation) was unhealthy. I wasn't actually practicing self-care. I was checking an item off of my to-do list of things I'm supposed to do and then shaming myself when I didn't feel like doing the face mask, going to the girls' weekend, or whatever I was "supposed" to be doing.

The problem wasn't a lack of self-care; the problem was a lack of self-love.

I learned from a young age how to neglect myself.

I watched my parents neglect themselves and was on the receiving end of their neglect and emotional abuse -- fallout from their own unhealed wounds.

As time went on, I learned to hate myself.

I didn't deserve to enjoy myself.

I didn't deserve to have a night off.

I needed to keep working,

keep striving,

keep proving my worth

otherwise I was worthless.

I still struggle with believing that people can actually enjoy being around me, for me, not because of what I can do for them. And that if someone doesn't like me, it's not somehow my fault, my lack, and if only I tried harder they would like me.

Sexual trauma speaks the lie that we're not human -- with emotions, needs, likes and dislikes -- but that we're an object -- to be used however, whenever, by whoever.

Neglect speaks the lie that we're not worthwhile, easily forgotten, an annoyance to those who are supposed to love us most -- not precious beings that deserve to be loved, held, nurtured, and cared for, enjoyed for simply existing.

Emotional abuse speaks the lie that we're the dumping ground for everyone else's garbage, here to absorb the junk, always providing more space for others, as our own identity continues to shrivel and dry up -- not beating hearts, tender and fragile, in need of encouragement, reassurance, and a safe place to rest.

I'm still learning that I'm human and that it's okay.

I am terrified of failure, because to err is to be human. When I do inevitably fail, it wrecks me. I'm not allowed to be human, to make mistakes, to have bad days, to need forgiveness, compassion, and space much less get some much needed time to myself.

So, no, I don't practice self-care, because I'm not there yet. I'm working on self-love.

Not conceit or self-absorption, but a healthy level of caring.

When you love someone, you want what's best for them.

I need to care about myself before I can care for myself.

And you do too.

I would love to go into a monologue telling you how lovely and worthwhile you are. How you deserve to fill the space God gave you in a beautiful, bountiful way. But if you're like I was (and still am most days) you won't believe me and, at the end of the day, it doesn't matter what I think about you.

It matters what you think about you.

Until we can address the lies and heal our self-beliefs, we won't consistently eat healthy, exercise, go to the doctor when we need to, take that vacation and actually rest, or any of the other things you'll find in an article titled 100 Ways to Practice Self-Care.

This requires the deep work. The hard work. The work we shouldn't have to do, but that we need to do. The past 4 years it's felt like I've been building the plane as I've been flying it.

I'm parenting myself and my daughter simultaneously.

I'm learning through caring for her, how to care for myself.

Because, you know what?

I love my daughter simply for existing.

I love her because she is and no other reason.

When she throws temper tantrums and doesn't listen and talks back, I want to pull my hair out, but I don't love her any less.

The moment I knew she was in my womb, I loved her.

The first time I felt her move, I loved her.

She wasn't even born yet, was doing nothing for me (in fact her pregnancy caused quite a lot of discomfort, heart burn, heart palpitations, headaches -- yeah, I was not one of those women that liked being pregnant)

BUT I loved her.

I was scared out of my mind at the prospect of mothering when I had no idea how to, but I loved her.

And through all of this, I'm beginning to realize, if she has inherent worth, maybe I do to.

If my husband has inherent worth, and my best friend, my sister, my brother, that stranger on the street. If I truly believe that every human on this planet has inherent worth, which I do, why then do I think that I don't?

So I'm working through the lies with my therapist.

I'm parenting myself while I parent my daughter.

I'm telling myself all the things I need to hear, even if I don't believe them yet, because eventually they'll sink in.

And little by little I can feel the ice thawing.

I can feel the defensive shell cracking.

I hear the door unlock...

I get up off the floor,

I turn the knob,

and open the door.

I realize that I want to move my body.

I realize that I want to eat better.

I want to feel better.

I'm beginning to take care of myself because I'm beginning to care about myself.

So, if you have IBS, or anxiety, or depression, the first step is to uncover the wound (or many wounds if you're like me).

Begin to heal the hurt at the source and the rest will fall into place.