Mental & Emotional Health

I am making an effort to eat more fruits.  I don’t like many veggies so to day that I am trying to eat more of those would be a lie.  But, being allowed to wear and review and then give away some clothing items has made me realize just how large I really am.  And, just looking at the photos makes me cringe.

Here’s the photo and as unflattering as the photo is, it isn’t as bad as it seems.  My husband as a knack for capturing the exact angle that is…..all wrong.

It appears that I have no waist and in reality, I kind of don’t.  And, because I have broad shoulders even when I wear 140 pounds, well that doesn’t help.  But looking at this photo sends me into a deep dark ugly funk.  Apparently not in a funk that’s strong enough to get me to moving more often but definitely in a funk.

I have been unable to do much of anything due to the broken bone and even now, I am in a great deal of pain and just don’t know that the thing is healing like it should. 

That along with my weight and the state of just general attitudes in my house has me sinking into a funk….one big ugly funk. 

Any advice?  Besides the obvious which is to get active.  I will be hitting the EASports 30 day Challenge as soon as the foot is well.  As for now, I”m in this brace for 4 more weeks and honestly, I don’t know but I’m thinking the big clumpy boot felt better.

Sad when you like the ugly boot.

You know I’ve had this cast….ok, I’m not going to tell you that story again.  Today though, I got off the sofa and traveled to the doctor where….whoohooo I got rid of the cast.  I didn’t get rid of the whole issue as now instead of big clunky gray boot, I”m wearing a smaller ugly black thing.  I call it a thing because I have no clue what else you would call one of these things.  Naturally I have pictures but it’s too late now.

Anyway, it was quite peaceful in the car, my radio blaring on a station I wanted to listen to and just being alone.  I love my kids, I do but ya’ll, sometimes Mamma just needs a break.  It’s funny how my mom and husband think I’m crazy because I long for some me-time away from my kids.  What they don’t realize is this….my husband goes to work everyday and with that, he communicates with adults for about 10 hours a day.  My mother, although she has helped me tons with the boys, she goes home at night.  But me…….I am here in this house 24/7 and unable to move around and alone time……whew…

Then, tonight, my mom and I took my boys to see one of my cousin’s and his son’s baseball team play in the state tournament.   And, although the boys were only interested in about 20 minutes of the game, I talked to my cousin’s wife and it was so cool to have adult conversation with someone other than my mother and my husband.

My internet buddies are awesome but the written conversations aren’t near as rewarding and face to face conversation.  And, alas, the mind and body was refreshed.

You know, as I mentioned in a previous post, I have seen some real crazy doctors.  And, had I been as smart man years ago to know that they not only don’t know everything, they also don’t always even tell you what they do know.

What does that mean exactly?

Well, no one every told me that I should have stopped the anti-depressants but slowly through a weaning process.  And now, now I can’t wean off of them no matter how hard I try.  Not that I have tried in a while but at this point, I am very aware of chemical imbalances and I am certain that my body is dependent in so many ways. 

But, I did make a decision to attempt to wean myself form xanaflex but I didn’t do it correctly and I have experienced some really horrible feelings in the last week.  First of all, I quit sleeping much.  I am having a hard time going to sleep at night and then I’m droggy during the day but can’t nap.  And, most importantly the back pain or tail bone pain has returned with a vengance.  However, I’ve made it a week and I am not going back unless it just becomes unbearable.

The problems with weaning was I didn’t really wean, I just quit them cold turkey when I ran out.  So, I’ve experiences the insomnia, the return of tailbone pain and some really serious jitters.  Add to that the running out of xanax which I don’t use it everyday, but I do use it when I’ve worked late and have a particularly hard time with the boys.  My boys are 4 and 6 and are really very very active.  Sometimes it’s difficult to cope.

I refilled that script today because I was having heart palpitations that I couldn’t quell and it was just necessary.  So, my suggestion to you is that if you find you need to wean, do it the right way, don’t quit cold turkey.

Sounds like common sense and I didn’t need this little experiment to know that.  I’ve tried to quit before cold turkey and it made me sick.  So, I knew better, I just thought I could do it.  I couldn’t.

Anyway, doctors need to be responsible for the drugs they dispense but patients have to take the responsibility for managing them right. 

And, that’s my 2 bits of advice for now.

Deb Beaulieu received her Bachelor of Arts in English, with a minor in psychology, from Salem (MA) State College in 2001. For the past eight years, Deb has worked as a journalist and editor for various publications in the insurance and healthcare trade press. She lives in the Boston area with her husband and two young children. In April 2009, she launched her first parenting blog—www.spawnocalypse.com—where readers come to laugh, cringe, and relate. Deb is also an avid long-distance runner who completed the Cape Cod Marathon in 2004.

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I’ve almost always had the self-awareness to know that I was generally a happier person as long as I got the chance to do two things every day (or close to it): run and write.

If I go too long without sweating and typing it out, I get—for lack of a better expression—mentally constipated. I get irritable, lethargic, and generally unpleasant to be around. Throughout my teens and early 20s, I stayed on track through self-discipline and the occasional reminder from friends and family (aka victims of my wrath).

But enter back-to-back pregnancies and two under two, and these mission-critical outlets became compromised. No, it wasn’t physically impossible to jog with my bump or journal my thoughts when the babies were napping, but it just wasn’t practical. Until my youngest was about a year old, I spent any and all free time either sleeping or doing housework while wishing I was sleeping.

I still had my editing job and plenty of exercise pushing the double stroller, so I managed to muddle through feeling only half-jammed. Most of the time, my babies were my focus—a sacrifice I do not regret one bit.

But reclaiming my pre-parenting loves has been more fulfilling than I could have imagined. Today, I’m content if I get to lace up three times a week. And I train and race for sheer enjoyment of the sport; at least for now, I’m 100% free of the stress to compete. And blogging couldn’t be a better fit with my writing needs and style. After months of letting myself down by not jotting a single word of the novel I’ve always wanted to write, I found a way to get those ideas down before they evaporate—and meet a whole other community of writing moms.

When the kids are in school or too old to want their daily shenanigans shared in public, I very well might get around to penning that book.

So, what’s your personal prescription for happiness?

What are your challenges to filling it and how do you overcome them?

My appointment with the “padded cell” doctor is on today.  And, in reality, it’s a good thing because as of late, I have the patience that certainly belong to someone besides Job and I am just as cantankerous as I can be.  No one is on my side it seems.  It’s just me against the world.

I have this ridiculous earache and I’m not sure if it is TMJ induced or a true ear infection.  I have a mouthpiece to help with the TMJ and since I got it in early December, I have had a day or two that I had ear pain from the TMJ.  But, this pain, it has managed to linger for 2 weeks.  Does that surprise anyone?  Stress…the stress I have induced upon myself.

You see, I certainly believe that we create many of our own problems.  And, for me, that’s simply what’s happening right now, I just keep adding events, doctor’s appointments, athletic practices and conferences to my schedule and the reality is, I’m blown away by all of it.

Someone who suffers from Chronic Fatigue and/or Fibromyalgia is probably the only people who are going to understand what this is all about.  There’s also that silly little thyroid disorder that has me ready to jump ship.  Throw in a side of diabetes and do you wonder why I need a doctor to keep me out of a padded cell?

I saw a cute sign on someone else’s blog and at the time, I just knew I would remember where I saw it so I didn’t record it with the saved sign.  But, as it is, now I can’t remember.  So, if you recognize this as a sign from your blog or if you know whose blog it did come from, please let me know so I can send credit where credit is due. 

The reason I was so intrigued by the sign is because is sums up many things I have to say without me having to say a world.  Here’s what that sign looked like…

Well, I sent that photo to a few friends in email and my friend who is a Pharm D and has her MBA, obviously knows a bit about medication and business too, sent me an email back requesting the following sign….so here you go Krystal…

I’m sorry, but some of these are just too good to pass up….what did you think?

I don’t know if it is just me but I think it is pretty much a universal thing but when I’m sick, even my adorable little cherubs make me want to gnaw my arm off.  Honestly, in this week alone I’ve had a raging TMJ issue, an even worse sinus issue and I spent 4 and a half hours in the neurologists office today.

I love my kids.  They are precious as pie, just like yours I’m sure.  But for some reason, this afternoon I’m threatening to run away from home.  They are welcome to stay here.  That’s not a problem, but me?  I’m going to mommy-boot-camp or something.

I do think that the level of medication is going to need to be adjusted but what I would really like to do is check into a mental ward and detox off of everything I take.  Then, from there, see if I need any medication at all.  Makes you wonder sometimes uh?

Especially when your skinnier-than-though, health-food-eating neurologist-freak of a doctor is preaching to you about brand name omega3 fish oil caplets versus generic ones.  That almost put over the edge.  I can’t imagine someone having so much knowledge in so many places.

Anyway, I hope I am back to a semi-healthy state for now.  Tomorrow I go to school to pain paper-bag pumpkins…wanna go?

Cross posted all over the place, just letting you know…

I have a very close cyber-buddy (I mean, you know, as close as two people can be in cyber space) and she has the most upbeat attitude that sometimes I wonder if maybe I need some of what she has stashed in her kool-aid drawer at home.  Either way, I’ve seen her make photos of thunderstorms and turn them into happy times.  She’ll pour a glass of wine and visit with the neighbor while the children play and she sits back with her wine and enjoys it all.

She’s been known to chase their dog around the neighborhood in her PJ’s and barely stops to wonder if anyone notices.  Basically, she just has a great attitude. 

Have I ever known her to not have a great attitude?  Of course I have, no one is that perfect all the time.  But, she knows how to block the punches, skip over the rocks and dunk under the timbers and land flat on her feet right in front of the river of rainbows.  Yea, she is that good.

Anyway, she has a new site up and running and in case you haven’t figured it out already, the site is Happiness Is The New Black.  I sent her a snarky little email asking her what she was trying to prove by not letting me in on the secrets of her blog life and she sent me packing to the about page and the submit page.   But, since I’m in such a grand ol’ mood, I’ll give you a quick blow by blow just in case you are interested in contributing.

In the about section, this quote summarizes the site for me, "True happiness is deep, pure and everlasting. It is subtle and it is popular because we all share an intrinsic need for it."  And, with that, you can share your happiness or just read about the happiness of others.

The Submit section will answer questions for you like, How do I contribute?, What do I contribute? Why should I contribute? as well as the When’s? and How often’s.  Go on check it out, it could make for some serious emotional healing….happiness is contagious The New Black

I am a sleeper.  I’ve always been a sleeper.  I make jokes with people about it because it is quite spectacular to see just how much I can sleep. I once had a roommate that wouldn’t leave me alone about joining her and her friends for movies and pizza or just drinking beer and watching ball games.  I never could make her understand, I enjoyed sleeping.  I finally telling her that I wasn’t really sleeping, I was meditating.  I swear, for me, it was just as healing as meditation.

I’ve made jokes over the years about how the life in my dreams is better than the one in reality so why not sleep when I get a chance.  People simply dismissed it as depression and medicated me.  As you may or may not know, most anti-depressants may have a sleepy effect.  So, that wasn’t always a great idea.

For some one who could sleep as much as I could, I had problems going to sleep and then, I’d wake all during the night.  It was ridiculous.  For many years I took over the counter sleep aids, then I graduated to prescription medications.  The problem remained.  I’ve tried a variety of the popular sleep medications on the market, prescription and non-prescription.  The anxiety I have though was much stronger than the any sleep aid out there. 

Ambien made me hallucinate.  And, I tried it several times over a five year span and I would always return to the same hallucination.  It really was nutty.  So, doctors would keep playing with sleep inducing drugs.  But, as I’ve told you several times, I found a doctor who specializes in chronic pain as well as mood disorders, emotional disorders, etc.  He really has been great for me.

He is the person who convinced me to go to the Sleep Clinic.  I do indeed have sleep apena.  And, I don’t take a sleep-aid to go to sleep, I take a very strong dose of a drug used to treat bi-polar disease.  I am not bi-polar, but I do have such a high strung personality that it takes a drug that strong to settle me into sleep.  The first night at the sleep clinic, even with the drug I normally take, I never entered the deepest zone of sleep.  The technicians were in awe.  He jokingly said that I also managed to run about 10 miles.

I returned to the clinic with doctors orders for a sleep apnea machine.  That night I entered the deepest zone of sleep approximately 45 minutes before time for me to get up.  However, I wasn’t waking 15 or 16 times an hour from sleep apnea and I managed to run a much shorter distance.  Success?

By most folks standards that would probably not be success.  I mean, I still have to take a drug that is made to treat a completely different illness in order to go to sleep, I have to sleep with the aid of a CP machine and I take a medication to curb the restless leg syndrome.  But, in my world, the fact that I make into a deep sleep every night means I rest more than I ever have before.  The legs remain still and it doesn’t take me hours upon hours to go to sleep.  (I remember having insomnia as early as age 8).

So, if any of this sounds familiar to you, please find yourself a good doctor, and a sleep clinic and get yourself taken care of.  I still love to take a nap.  I can be wide awake and plowing through my day and if someone suggest we quieten down and nap, I’m all over it.  I simply love to sleep.

The best I can tell, I was born to be a sleeper and my job is to dream.  As of late, I’ve been dreaming pretty doggone big too.  So, it can’t be all bad now can it?

Just so you know that my thoughts about my size didn’t come strictly from my mother.  My father was a small man.  He was about 5′7" and when he wasn’t smoking and was instead nibbling on every thing in sight, he weighed maybe 130.  So, by the eighth grade, I was bigger than my dad.  I out-weighed my dad early in my life.  That alone wasn’t easy to accept. 

My paternal relatives are all small.  My grandmother at a whopping 95 pounds, and my grandfather probably 130 or 135.  My dad’s sister probably doesn’t weigh 100 pounds either.  So, it isn’t like I necessarily have the gene of being a big woman.  However, my maternal grandfather pushed 300 pounds most of my life.  But, my maternal grandmother and her family, little people as well.

It was kind of like when the dice were rolled to choose my gene for my size and I had a one in four chance of being a large woman, I lost. 

But, back to the fact that my mom isn’t the only one who left me with bad memories of my weight.  I’ll be the first to say that I started being very conscious of my weight by the age of 13.  I had entered puberty way before most of my classmates and I had curves that no one else had.  Once in high school, I fit in a little better and it wasn’t to bad.  I would run from 120 to 130 depending on the time of year.  I played fall and spring sports with the spring sport carrying over through the summer.  But the winter?  Oh the winter was hard.  I would always gain weight during the winter, but once spring rolled around, I could shake it off.

It was a never ending see-saw.  So, since I’ve told you way more stuff that is pertinent to this story, I’m going to try to get to the end.  My father passed away when I was 19, so you know that the comment from him had come my way basically from the age of 14 til 19.  What comments?  It was as if he was a parrot on my shoulder, watching what I ate, watching me gain weight and lose it and while I paid no attention in any way to what was happening.  I didn’t try to lose the weight any more than I tried to gain it.  It was just the part of the cycle of my activities.

But, I remember my father telling me one time, "you know, when you have your eye on a certain guy you lose weight, when you catch him, you put it back on….just like your mother"  I was almost 17 when he said that and I’ll never forget it. And, as it is, he was right.  Those bikini wearing 140 pound days were when I was single…the ballooning up was during times of a relationship, teeter-totter, teeter-totter. 

A memory…yea, probably said without much thought, just a simple observation made by a  father of his daughter.  But it stung, it stung bad.

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I don’t know how many of you have even heard of the book The White Trash Mom’s Handbook by Michelle Lamar and Molly Wendland but if you need to do our best to get your hands on a copy of this book and read it.  You may wonder how it has anything to do with Mental and Emotional Health.  Just keep reading, I’m going to tell you.

I remember distinctly being bullied in school.  I was bullied for all kinds of reasons.  I was bullied because my parents weren’t married to each other.  So, don’t think for one minute that your child and his peers know nothing about you and your partner/spouse/significant other.  These kids are sponges and they are absorbing everything they see and hear.

I’ve known for 5 years that my child would start school in August of 2008.  One of my goals was not to be labeled in a way that would embarrass my children.  When we had our Christmas photos made professionally in 2006, I told my husband that I was "losing some weight before next Christmas because I’m not hiding in the back for every Christmas photo we have made". 

Guess what?  I didn’t lose any and I actually gained (which I now know is the result of diabetes and thyroid) a little weight.  So, when Christmas professional picture time came around in 2007, I hid in the back again.  At that time, I told my husband, "I’m losing some weight because I do not want Walker to have to deal with other kids saying that the fat woman is Walker’s mommy."

Do I really think kids will do that?  Your doggone right they will.  I don’t think for one minute that the kids won’t notice and I  know from experience that they will make fun of me and in return make fun of my son. 

And, you know what happens when you mess with one of Mama Bear’s Cubs, right?  Yea, Mama Bear gets angry.  But, I did lose but approximately 10 pounds and thus far I’m not doing a very good job at trying. 

But, as son as I am given the thumbs up from my doctor to go ahead and exercise (remember I have mono), I have a treadmill in my living room just calling my name.  Yup, I may have to hide in this year’s Christmas photo too but next year, not a chance!  And, my children’s peers aren’t going to label me as "the fat woman" forever.  I can promise you that.

I haven’t talked much about a couple of things here that are central to my life and possibly you can relate.  One of those is my weight.  I’m big.  I’m 200 pounds big.  I have diabetes and thyroid disorder but in recent weeks, I’ve made no effort to do anything about keeping my sugar regulated and thus I’m in a bouncy place of up 2 pounds, down 4, up 3, down 2, etc.

The other issue is that my mom and I aren’t very much alike.  That would really be the understatement of the year.  I am a lot like my father and with that, it is just normal I think that we wouldn’t be the best of friends.  My parents divorced when I was 4.  They fought until I was close to 18.

When you put those two issues together, you definitely get a memory that become a scar.  Don’t get me wrong, there’s more to the issue of my weight than simply my mom and the idea that we don’t get along, there’s way more there than just my mom.  (I’ll get to that later.)  But, the memory that stands out for me regarding my weight goes something like this.

I was getting married, for the first time.  I was terribly self-conscious of my shape.  I weighed about 140 pounds.  Other females my age were wearing clothing that suited their shapes.  Not me, I was covering myself up, ashamed that I had ballooned to 140 pounds once again.  (Later I put that same 140 pounds in a bikini and sported the beach with a little but more confidence, so it couldn’t have been that bad could it?) 

Back to my story, I saw myself on video from one of my bridal showers.  I was dumbfounded, I couldn’t believe that I could possibly be as big as I looked on the video.  So, I asked my mom if I was really that big.  And, what she said to me was, "well you certainly aren’t skinny".

I wasn’t asking if I was skinny, I was asking if I was a monster.  Hindsight, looking at those photos, no I wasn’t skinny, but that same body that was on video that I was made to feel ashamed of was not so shabby in a bikini just a couple of years later.  That memory, asking my mom, asking someone to boost my confidence as I headed into what was suppose to be the best day of my life…….became a scar.  

(I’ll tell you some more another day.)

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What did you think of my last post about the case I shared?  What do you think is happening with this child?

I wonder about the mental and emotional well-being of my own children.  They are only 3 and 5 but I am not generally the age of most of their peer’s parents.  Plus, sometimes I don’t think that my husband and I have the patience that we should with the boys.  I’m not sure if our age is going to play a role in a our ability to keep our boys active in the same kinds of things that other children have available to them. 

I went to school with several people who were born to women (parents) of "advanced maternal age" which is what it is called in the medical world.  Their lives were always different.  And usually their lives were different in a not-so-popular way.  Generally speaking these children didn’t get to be involved in as many extra-curricular activities, their parents were more stay-at-home-and-make-fun-for-yourself kind of parents and basically these children were as easy to label as were those of us who were only children or children of divorce.

My husband and I are extremely aware of how it can affect them.  But, when we punish our children, scold them, discipline them, they are extremely emotional.  I wonder if that is the case with children that have younger parents?  I wonder if we take life a little too seriously?  I wonder if my children we be labeled as "the kids with the old parents"?

What do you think? 

Do you remember peers that had older parents?

Was it you that parents that were older than most of your peers?

So, you know way more about me than a lot of people I know in real life.  But, as one would guess, you are probably wondering if I am just a clown that has had many mental and emotional issues and I’m going to try to urge you to go get medicated.  That is simply not the case.  I do believe that medication has its place and we will explore that more in depth later, but for now, I’m just going to give you a few credentials.

My personal thoughts on  my own mental and emotional health are that without the interventions of modern medication and later some therapy, I would not have been able to accomplish much.  So, with that, I’m sure you are wondering just what it is that I’ve done that makes me think I can write a blog here and help anyone.

For starters, did you read the two part introduction.  That alone should tell you that I’ve been the mental and emotional health genre for half of my life.  I was 19 when my father died and that depressive cycle began.  I will be 40 in a couple of weeks.  But, if you read those, you know, I suffered well before the age of 19, it was just then it became apparent to everyone because they could see the issues on the outside.

So, what did I do with myself?  I did what my father always dreamed of, I graduated with a Bachelors degree.  That was in 1991, in physical education.  I used that to teach physical education two and a half years.  My dad tried to tell me not to be a teacher.  I don’t think he knew that I was simply not going to be good at it, (which I wasn’t), he just wanted me to choose a career that wasn’t so difficult to endure (and it is very difficult). 

Either way, I graduated.  I also had a minor in chemistry so I was able to teach Earth and Life Science on year and again, it was awful and I wasn’t very good at it.   Later I taught Pre-K and…again, it was a horrible experience and I wasn’t very good at it in the first place. 

I let my certificate expire and thus was unable to teach after 2001.  In 2005, I decided I should try teaching again, I was older, my temperament was different and maybe…just maybe…

That’s when I realized my certificate had expired.  So, that meant I had to return to school.  So, why  not get my Masters in something that I could use outside the school system or inside if I chose.  I taught Biology while I was in school and just as before, I hated it and I was not good at it either. 

I got my Masters in Counseling last winter while I was busy running my own daycare.  It came in handy and even though it is not my nature to brag, I was able to pick employees strong points as far as what age they would be best working with.  At first they would balk on me, but later, people came to realize that I had a little education and I was good at reading people.

Personalities come easy for me it seems.  I can talk to someone for a short time and tell you way more about them than most of them know themselves.  No, I’m not psychic, I learned a little when I pursued that last degree and it is paying off for me now.

I knew my husband had ADD (attention deficit disorder).  It was very apparent to me.  He had suffered his entire life but didn’t grow up in a home with educated parents who knew what to look for.  I got him an appointment, they did the intake, they gave him a couple of written tests and then the doctor spent about 45 minutes with him.  Diagnosis?  ADD.  I knew it, I’d lived with him too long not to know it.  I knew the symptoms and with my husband, they were terribly obvious.

In recent months I came to realize that my husband was depressed.  Again, he didn’t see what I saw.  I had the education (and I don’t mean that in a smart-alec way, I mean, I read the books, I listened to my professors and I learned so much from them) and I knew that he was depressed.  I encouraged him to tell our psychiatrist that treats his ADD.  He didn’t.  I mentioned it at one of my visits but only briefly and only in the manner in which it was affecting our marriage.  I asked my husband the next month if he would please tell the doctor how he felt.  He said yes, but he didn’t do it.  The next month he suggested I come with him.  I did but the doctor talked to him alone.  My husband managed to pull off the ol’ "it’s just the stress of this one project at work and when it is over, I’ll be fine.).

Not only was I mad at this point, I was ready to do something drastic.  His behavior was affecting our marriage and especially affected his parenting skills.  So, at my next appointment with the doc, I asked if we could come together.  He said if it was ok with my husband, then of course it was ok with him.  We went together.  They gave him a depression test. 

I don’t know much about the depression test because I didn’t see it so I don’t know which test they gave him. However, after the doctor looked at it, he said, "you definitely appear to be depressed, a score of anything above 8 on this test would mean you might benefit from medication and therapy and you (meaning my husband) scored a 24"

Ok, see, I’ve been around the block.  I’ve had the emotional problems, I’ve had the mental fatigue, I’ve dealt with the problems and I’ve been trained to recognize them. 

So, with that, I give you my credentials.  Do you trust me yet?

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I have been reading about zen lately and working on letting go of negative things such as blame, judgments, cravings and rushing around.

It’s common for people to multi task and it’s often encouraged and even admired to be so busy that you don’t have time to stop for even a minute. Sometimes we work to escape so we don’t have time to stop and be alone with our thoughts.

If tasks are done with the expectation that when complete they will bring happiness, it’s a huge let down when they do not. There’s nothing wrong with setting goals either and in fact it’s a good idea to plan some things in advance but if you are not satisfied now, you are not likely to be later either.

• I love this quote: ‘If I had a little more, I should be very satisfied.’ You make a mistake. If you are not content with what you have, you would not be satisfied if it were doubled. –Charles Haddon Spurgeon

There are so many celebrities that have overdosed or committed suicide. I often wonder if it’s because they had everything they thought would bring them happiness only to realize it wasn’t enough.

How to stop searching and be satisfied now?

• A gratitude journal is a very good way of realizing what you have to be grateful for and to stop taking things for granted. It only takes a few minutes to come up with five things for the day.

• Meditation is also a good way to quiet your soul because it clears your mind of clutter and puts you in the present moment. When you are still and focus on your breathing and/or just enjoy nature you come away refreshed.

• Simply stopping to enjoy the simple things in life is important to your peace of mind. Savor the flavors of your food slowly, stop a minute to look at that dandelion a child has pointed out, stop and listen a minute to the street musician on the corner.

• Taking the time to help someone else is satisfying. Donating money is not the only way you can contribute to helping others. Volunteering, visiting a sick friend or calling someone you know is lonely are all ways that you can give your time. By helping others, you also help yourself by putting things in perspective.