Mental Health Post #24: How the Mental Affects the Physical (and vice versa)     

(Trigger warning: for those that can't stand talk about scatological issues and medical TMI, this is your one and only chance to bail.  Just know you are missing a really good post....)

I'm a veteran pooper-in-public (not sure about the correct terminology here ;).  For many, many years, I've dealt with IBS (irritable bowel syndrome), often at the most inopportune times.  It's kind of Murphy's Law at this point that if on any walk, run, or hike and my stomach is going to go for broke, it will always, always, always be when I am the furthest away from any available restroom.  This has led to me pooping all over Ann Arbor on Derek and I's runs, Sunstone Knoll in Utah, and the top of Mt. Timpanogos (to name just a few of my favorites).  I've been doing this one so long that I have absolutely no shame at all.  We keep camping TP in the car, and I design my running routes so that if I think I may have any possibility of needing to powder my nose, there is a restroom adjacent.  I'm familiar with the ins and outs of the toilets in my places of routine shopping (thank you Joann's Fabric for FINALLY making the "Men's" toilet a Unisex one.  Pretty sure it's used about .0001% of the time by biological males).  For most of my life that I've dealt with this (since my early 20s), I assumed there was some sort of physical cause for fecal incontinence.  I was right, sort of: my uterus has prolapsed onto my rectum after 5+ pregnancies (especially the hippopotamus that came last), the endometriosis and subsequent surgeries have all caused scarring and adhesions that have "frozen" many of my organs into distorted placements, and I do have a number of allergies that can affect my digestion.  But there is one big puzzle piece I was missing beyond these frank physical symptoms.

Actually, I wasn't so much missing it as I was in denial about it.  I mean, who wants to own up to the fact that the anxiety they felt all night about something was to blame for me barely making it to the toilet after a morning run?  And again, it's a little tricky because I indicated that this isn't a physical issue, when it really is.  All mental health issues are, by definition, physical health issues when you think about it.  We are physical beings and our meatsacks are assuredly affected by the physical stresses played upon them when we have big or prolonged releases of cortisol, adrenaline, and all the other hormones.  While I don't understand the science at a deep chemistry level, I can tell you that any time you have a release of any kind of hormone or neurotransmitter, this leads to cascades of other chemical processes.  And as many of you probably already know, our gut is sometimes euphemistically called our 'second brain' because it hosts a multitude of special receptors just like those that are in the rest of our nervous system.  The way I see it, anything that stresses our brains, also stresses our guts.  The output, so to speak <<wink, wink>> may be different, but only because our brains aren't in the middle of digesting foods.

I've learned a few things that have helped me to manage my obstreperous gut.  One of the most important for me is that I can't let the plumbing get clogged up or I can guarantee at some point that I'll get to have 5 days of gold stars compacted into a few hours.  I take magnesium pills because I need to for other health reasons, and it has the added benefit of giving me a gold star every day.  Another helpful thing is to not consume a lot of caffeine.  Oh my caffeine is so bad for you, and yet such a useful tool.  As sad as it is, I've kept from making it a daily part of my life, tho I do partake on long road trips.  Finally, I do the very most obvious thing of all: try to keep my mental state in good health so that I don't have to deal with public poops on top of everything else that could stress a person out.

For me personally, pooping issues aren't the end of the world.  Actually, they are fodder for some amazing jokes (it's possible my mind got stuck in the humor of a 7th grade male).  But there are often other issues that aren't as humorous to me.  Like the extreme gastritis and nausea I've dealt with since I was tiny that now requires constant antacids.  Or the perennial sweating that comes from chronic release of stress hormones. I hate when I am so anxious that I am constantly being startled by the simplest things--like hiccups, you really can't control a severe startle reflex.  There are tight muscles that lead to tension headaches, and crushing fatigue.  My least favorite of all is the insomnia that I used to drown in, month after month, and year after year.  These things are things that as I've learned to better manage mental illness, have decreased in a way that is less of a problem and more of an occasional annoyance.  Things never go all the way away, and I find it important to have realistic expectations of life: everyone has some sleepless nights, and some bad stomach days, and stressful times.  But those have become the exception rather than the rule.

One more tiny mention: not only is distressing to have your mental health spill over into frank physical symptoms, but having poor physical health leads to poorer outcomes of mental health.  It's a bit of a chicken and egg thing, but it's obvious, right?  Anyone with chronic illness can attest to how disruptive and difficult things like being home-bound, or having chronic pain can be.  In the end, I ask, as I keep asking, that we give grace to those who struggle with these issues, including ourselves, and remember that we are only asked to do the best we can each day, and believe me, for most of us that is far less than we think.  Instead of asking ourselves what tasks we accomplished today, perhaps we can focus on the uncounted but essential things like, the fact that you did not, in fact, kill any family members or pets for leaving muddy footprints around, or not cleaning their rooms, or unloading the dishwasher like you only asked 13,000 times.  

 Photo note: I may or may not have fallen asleep at the end of General Conference.  In my defense, I was warm and snuggled up on the couch with my people.