Body Dismorphia, illness and the Hyp …

Published December 27, 2013 by Audio Guerilla

Greetings!

Firstly, please let me thank all you wordpressers for taking the time to read and follow my very newborn blog.  It’s wonderful to start connecting with so many kind souls so thank you and I look forward to finding out all about you : )

I’m not due a blog update for another week, but I’ve found recently that on social media sites there seems to be a ressurgance of body beauty issues … and this all came about because of a facebook post I made regarded my Hypothyroidism.

 My last blood test was in early October and my TSH and T4 levels were through the roof (I’ll explain in my next blog post what these are) so my medication dosage was lowered. This has had an immediate and damning impact on my day-to-day life; my energy levels are low, I have a perpetual sore throat and flu like symptoms, I go into commatose on the sofa and, perhaps most disturbingly, I gained substantial weight .

I

 posted to my friends about my aches, my lethargy and my desire for the next blood test to come around. Cue a very well rounded discussion about proper medication, proper medical support and requests for medicines that contain T3. One such medicine is called Armour, and oddly enough you can purchase it without prescription over the Internet . Then

, a friend asked the dreaded question:

“Does [Armour] make you lose weight?”

And I froze. This, I imagine, is the question doctors dread from hypothyroid patients who are at the end of their tether because they know that there is NOTHING to stop a patient from self medicating if they have access to these meds and decide to double their dosage, unsupervised, and overdose.

Let me make this very clear – an overdose of meds in a hypothyroid patient is extremely dangerous. It can turn you hyperthyroid, destroy your immune system and even, on prolonged use, stress your heart.

In a person who has a healthy functioning thyroid, it can kill you. Even instantly. It’s like taking speed.

Needless to say, I carefully explained the functions and highlighted the dangers of unsupervised use. I also urged her to get a blood test to determine whether she might be hypo.

 I know that this person is desperate to lose weight, at almost any cost. She has over the past 4 years lost so much weight she is almost unrecognisable, and that’s not to say she was by any means fat to begin with. She is svelte, curvy, beautiful and if she lost more weight she would become underweight.  All in the name of beauty.

There’s a thing about beauty in our culture that exists if only to enslave people, and it is practised more vehemently in the west than any other region in the world (at least openly).

That thing is this:

We only possess ownership of our beauty within the years that we are not biologically ready to be sexually mature and therefore powerful. Once we move past adolescence, ownership of an individuals beauty is usurped by society and often never, ever reclaimed wholly. 

This idea isn’t new nor will it change within the global consciousness of our constantly evolving world. It’s a survival mechanism designed to temporarily save women living in the crisis of a dangerous world.

In 1978, Granada Television commissioned a series of documentaries entitled ‘The World Around Us’ – one of which was about the Nazi Auscwitch doctor Josef Mengele. The documentary opens with descriptions of his appearance from his contemporaries, confidants and a one prisoner of camp – Margaret Englander. In her own words, Margaret relates that Dr Mengeler was a very handsome, clean cut man. More harrowingly, she explains that he spared her .. because of her beauty. Her beauty, her socially accepted features of sexual beauty, attractiveness and – from what I personally understand – as the insidious mental desire, fed by his attraction to her, that he might have congress with her – spared Englander from certain death. Her daughter was also spared, also because of her beauty, although she was killed 2 days before the camp was freed.

For those with an interest in the documentary, it’s available on youtube here.

Nazi Eugenics, Genocide and Racism have one common trait: the dehumanising of individuals by stating that their DNA makes them sub human, asserting the belief that they are ‘ugly’.  There are countless academic journals written on the importance of Aesthetics within the cogs of the ‘Final Solution’ that are a realisation of such an extremity of this concept of “unacceptable ugliness”.

From the sexualising of child brides and trafficked prostitutes to the iconographic fashion industry, the aesthetic value of beauty and its merits in sexual power, commerce or financial reign has long been associated with a skewed concept of the achievement of beauty as a sexual conquest: the aim of which is to attain a champion, trophy, or kingdom. Ironically, this idea has dehumanised our natural beautiful selves beyond all recognition in the name of self defence – and it supports a violent, anti-love culture.

I spent many years of my youth trapped in a toxic hell of private mental anguish because of my physical appearance. Like many adolescents and teenagers, I suffered from severe cystic acne – a skin virus which has little to do with diet and much more to do with environment.  Unlike most teenagers, the roaccutane tablets I was prescribed and forced to take (by being lied to and told that my acne was part of a potentially fatal heart problem) were coated in an untreated percentile mercury layer. Aside from the obvious dent in self esteem, being repeatedly referred to as a test subject in the third party, or continually corrected when I exchanged that I was fine and not self conscious about my acne, which I was not, I was imprisoned into a lucid, hallucinogenic state of normality where I spoke in philosophical riddles and made observations openly that are not socially acceptable.  Such was the detrimental effect of my mental state that one of my teachers asked a school psychologist to have me tested for schizophrenia and have me sectioned against my will. Were it not for a doctor who was a family friend I may have had to battle my way out of a legal request to have me institutionalised for no real reason. Dr Valarino who lowered my dosage, changed my prescription tablets, referred me to a specialist uk dr and when I arrived in Winchester, only then was it revealed to me that I had been poisoned.

Such was the disgrace of being ‘ugly’ that I did’nt posess ownership of my own body until I was 19 years old. Society, in it’s backwardly infinite wisdom decided I would be better dead on illegal medicine that was cheap rather than alive as a less aesthetically pleasing yet valuable human being.

To this day I still cannot leave the house without wearing make up, though I wear alot less of it. It is my mask of self-preservation. It empowers me with control over perception based judgement and action in accordance (which is wrong on every level). It gives me a defence against the public by pre-empting their reaction based on what they see … and sadly, it’s based on what they seek in terms of value, which lies in the aesthetic of first impression.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stop wearing make up all together in my lifetime.  I hope to. For my daughter at least. But I do hope that if there is a revolution I can be a part of it, and that the little things – like this blog – can be the first steps

Xx

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Introduction; why the hyp

Published December 1, 2013 by Audio Guerilla

On October 26th 2013 my father died. During the last 6 months of his life, my father underwent a quadruple bypass and 2 leg amputation procedures. He passed away in his sleep and the coroners report stated that he died of coronary arterial disease (Ischaema).

My father knew he was dying, what he was dying of and he never told a soul because he didn’t want his family to worry. I saw him a month before he died and whilst he told me that he was so proud of me, and that he loved me, it never quite hit me so hard that I was mourning the loss of my first friend so much as the moment I found out he had died.

At the time of his passing, my life was falling apart –

 I had been diagnosed with hypothyroidism 8 months prior, which had only explained but not helped my illness. I was mother to a 14 month old who demanded alot of attention, physical and mental -after an extremely, unnecessarily traumatic pregnancy and birth. I was in mourning for my life and I resented not being closer, have more time or more financial support to get up and take care of my dad through his last days. Even now, things much improved, I regret being unable to visit my father in hospital everyday – talk to him, hug him – but most of all, assure him that I would be ok. I wanted him to know that I am brave, strong, that I could undo the mess that I had allowed myself to walk into … that he could be proud of me. He was always proud of me and he always said so.

The truth is, I am not proud of myself because I feel as if I have not done anything to be proud of since I stopped making art.

For a long time, I felt enourmous pressure to give up the sacred things in my life. I sacrificed my philosophy and lifestyle to prove my love to a group of people; most of whom were not worth the sacrifice. Now, having lost my greatest ally and loving parent, I felt the sting of lonliness more than I had ever experienced in my life. It was one evening during which I was taking a shower that I thought about what I had truly lost and how I could regain my happiness,

It hit me. I am currently retaking GCSE science in order to pursue a PGCE to become a teacher. I am pursuing teaching to ensure I had a steady income so I could keep my husband happy and we can buy a house. And then I realised what a fucking awful idea that was. As a mum, my time is spent taking care of other people – something I have done my entire life – but with no real gratitude. Being a mum is not the best or most important job in the world to me and someone telling me how great I am to be a mother doesn’t fulfil me. It’s empty. It will not make a difference to anyone other than my daughter and she will grow up very quickly. It’s not something I will, or should, win a nobel prize for. If I became a teacher, not only would I have to take care of other people’s children but I would have to be care taker to my family when I got home! I would have no time to make a real difference in people’s lives or do something that would fulfil my personal purpose in life.

And I would be an AWFUL role model to my daughter.

I would be a disappointment to my father – I’m currently a disappointment to myself. So I need to stop and go back to the person that I was proud to be.

As I stepped out of the shower, I thought to myself “should I pursue my dreams?”. I felt a surge of warmth rush through my body, and a sensation of holistic peace and wholeness surround my entire being. My mind stopped worrying. My chronic headache disappeared. I heard my father’s voice say “Your dreams will make you happy. Go and be happy.”

I loved my father more than anyone else in the world. He taught me to always trust my instincts, and therefore I decided that in 2014 I’m coming clean.

It’s time to start taking pride in myself, which only comes with love and respect. I’m cutting out processed, refined, artificial and addictive foods to adopt a vegan lifestyle. I’ll also be exercising and meditating, like I used to. I’m going back to the lifestyle that made me healthy, happy and inspired my dad to make his most successful attempt to quit smoking.

When you are out of balance with the beliefs that you hold, you are at war with the entire universe. I wholeheartedly believe that it is not only my choice but my responsibility to repair the inter-relationships between my body, mind and spiritual essence (whether that’s a soul, a cosmic energy or an idea). The best way for me to do that is to live clean – free of addictions, respectful of my body as the vessel of my mind. It’s not a new notion and I’m not trying to sell anyone anything.

I’ll be focusing on specific topics with each new blog post and updating you on my path to happiness. I’m hoping to post at least once a fortnight.

This is my New Year’s Resolution for 2014 and an ongoing journal to record my healing journey.

And I just wanted to share this with whoever is interested on being part of the journey with me x

Image

N xx

(P.S – Here’s a list of mind expanding things to ‘google’;

SoulPancake

Super Better!)