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Hi, my name is Jellybelly32340. I'm here because
I developed prostate cancer. I immersed myself in the study of health and nutrition. FFiber is the secret Dr. Denis Burkitt 20 years in Uganda, a country of 10 million people 150 rural hospitals. 1971 Interview. Far more fiber, far more starch, far less fat, far less sugar, far less salt, abolish fried foods. Eat more brown bread. Top two. More fiber. Less fat. Western countries diet has too much fat sugar and salt cause sickness/ diseases. Western countries diet 15 grams of fiber, 80-100 grams of stool increase risk for chronic diseases. In India/ sub Sahara countries diet 100 grams of fiber 300-500 grams of stool exempt from Western diseases.

Americans eat 240lbs to 300lbs of animal products each year. Meat Consumption in the U.S. Is Growing at an Alarming Rate

Dietary fiber Denis Burkitt Pritikin ClinicNutrition and healthy eating How to add more fiber to your diet factorsTobacco Diet lifestyle physical inactivity Smoking High blood pressure High cholesterol Obesity Diabetes AgeFamily history More Plants fruits veggies Salads Whole grains Beans Peas Lentils Exercise is critical Less Junk food Artificial sweetners Pizza Cheese Cookies CakeChickens Dairy products Burgers Red meat Sausages bacon egg yoke Fried foods Processed foods

On diet/ disease
Burkitt Pritikin Attia The Lost Lectures from Nathan Pritikin - Dr. McDougall Kempner, Pritikin Breakey, Esselstyn Osfield Klaper McDougall from A-Z - Half Your Plate Diet: A Complete Guide Pritikin Baptise, Pritikin McDougall Hasini Attia
American doesn't catchHeart disease

The Lost Lectures from Nathan Pritikin - Dr. McDougall

Read the latest on serious health-related issues and what you can do about them. Hear success stories from people who were helped by the McDougall Program.
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It aches so bad

It all aches so bad. I feel like I'm dying. Like I'm suffocating in my own emotions. I'm sick of everything. Grieving, pretending to be someone I'm not because my family doesn't accept me. I feel like none of my family even notices me half the time. I should be used to being useless. I'm sick mentally and physically and everyone just says I'm lazy...I'm alone....I'm even smoking again

#Depression #Selfharm #Anxiety #MentalHealth #sick

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Rough day

Woke up with tummy pains and got sick. It's been a "50%in bed 50% in the bathroom" kinda day. I feel absolutely miserable. And now I'm nauseous so I gotta take a zofran. At least I don't have a migraine. Small wins still count.

I was gonna take a Lyft to the tobacco outlet today but I don't think I'd make it without getting sick. I want to stay close to the bathroom. It's days like this I really hate being sick. I've been smoking butts from my bazillion ashtrays. I'm just about out of them now. I'll try to bum a cigarette from my neighbor. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel better. I really hope so.


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Having a rough night

I took my sleep meds at 7pm and didn't get to sleep until after 10pm. And I woke up at 145am needing to pee. I had a nightmare about my ex girlfriend having sex with the girl she's going to the party with on Saturday. I woke up crying.

We're not together anymore. She can do whatever she wants with whoever she desires. It's just I've helped her with so much over the last year. I've paid hundreds of dollars to help her. She says I'm the only person helping her aside from her employer.

And how does she repay me? By cracking a joke about me having trauma bonds. She abused me before she came out of the closet as a trans woman. She used to be very cruel to me. But after starting estrogen, she became much nicer. She became the person who I originally fell in love with.

I guess part of me thought if I was good to her, if I was supportive and loving and there for her during tough times, she might see my value and want to get back together with me. I love her so much. I want to see her happy and thriving. And now I guess she is, just not with me. Maybe I should have been more specific when I asked the universe to help her get back on track.

I keep falling in love with people that don't want me. Or are monogamous. I have a crush on one of my friends that I talk to every day. I'm trying to push past my feelings and focus on the friendship but she's wonderful and cares about me. We are supportive of each other.

I guess I'm looking for emotional companionship since I'm asexual. It's really hard to find people who are interested in a relationship that doesn't involve physical intimacy. But there's so much stuff to do together. Sex doesn't define a relationship, at least it shouldn't.

I feel very sad. My heart hurts. I need to get back to sleep but instead I'm chain smoking and crying. This is so stupid. Feelings are stupid. I wish I could go numb.

#Relationships #Depression #traumabonds #CheckInWithMe

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My Story- Seeing a Therapist for the first time in eight years tomorrow *TW death/ grief*

Writing this as I’m going to my first therapy appointment in eight years. I know for sure I have undiagnosed PTSD, however mine stems from multiple experiences in childhood my parents could not control even if they wanted too. I almost drowned when I was 3 or 4, went to the ER and almost died from the blood sugar being so high (1000+) and dropping to 42.

My mom did this all on her own and was a great source of strength in my life. However my dad lived with schizophrenia, epilepsy, and several other health conditions due to him coping with drinking (before I was born) and smoking 2 packs of cigarettes a day. He almost died several times in childhood, but my mom never told me until I was older, an adult, and well after he passed away. He died when I was 19.

I went to psychiatrists because all I ate was complex carbs and refined sugars, peanut butter, and maybe a banana. I gagged on all other foods. I was assessed for tons of stuff, the only thing they found was a texture issue. Insurance only approved for a few visits and my family couldn’t pay out of pocket. My doctors fought with one another, one told me to eat less and I ended up eating 1000 ish calories per day. Mind you 1000 calories of carbs and sugars weren’t great. I didn’t loose weight to his standards anyway.

I struggled with anxiety and mild depression. I never self harmed in the textbook ways, but I would lie to cover up how I felt so people wouldn’t worry about me. I would essentially cyber bully myself (two occasions) and had a lot of superficial friendships that were where I poured more into them than the other way around.

I realized a lot when my dad died followed by my papa ( mom’s dad) within six months. My papa did wonders for me and understood me as I was, I spent much of my time with him and he was where my mom and I stayed when I was sick or my dad was unwell or had a fight with my mom. That was a big loss as he was my anchor ( along with my mom) throughout my whole life.

So I met more friends that the relationships became toxic. I could essentially do what they wanted and bend over backwards. When I began to standup for myself, I was met with pushback. I would say no if I couldn’t drive them or go somewhere and they would say sorry without changed behavior. Then I eventually cut ties with them gradually. Which is now where I’ve been focusing on myself, healthy friendships and myself.

I now feel ready to return to therapy. I’m also proud of how far I’ve come, and happy for all the progress. #Anxiety #Depression #PTSD

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10 Years of Grief

Part 1 of 2 Incredibly, it has been 10 years since I was last able to hug my son; it feels like the blink of an eye.  10 years ago, I visited him in hospital and as I was walking down a corridor to find him, he rushed towards me with his arms open wide, and gave me a massive hug.  I felt engulfed by that hug, he had been outside smoking so he had his puffa jacket on; it added bulk to his thin frame.  The jacket smelt of him, each person has such a unique smell, you know when you are wrapped up in their arms, that this is familiar, this is home.  Before I left him that night, I leaned over him, put a hand on either side of his head, kissed him on the top of his unruly curls, said goodbye and walked away thinking about dinner.  There was never any thought in my head that I would not see Harry conscious again, that this was the last conversation I would ever have with him.  I was just happy that I’d made it to the hospital before visiting hours ended, I was happy to have seen him, and now I had to get home.

Four hours later I got a call to say that Harry had been found unresponsive in his room and was in an ambulance on the way to hospital, because he had seriously injured himself, and the mental heath care facility he was in could not care for him.  I met him in the emergency room, he was so very still, and hooked up to so many monitors.  They had managed to start his heart again, it wasn’t looking good though, and he was transferred to ICU care.   I repeated over and over into Harrys shell-like pink ear, as he lay so still on that ICU bed, “you are loved, my beloved boy, you are loved, you are loved, you are loved”.

After 3 days in ICU, a decision was made to remove life support, my beautiful boy was not coming back.  It has been 10 years since I held my baby in my arms as life support was removed.  10 years since I physically felt the moment his soul left his body.  10 years since I washed that body for the very last time, before my beloved son was transported to the morgue. 10 years since I stumbled out of hospital clutching his teddy bear, supported by my sister and my friend.  10 years since we held a funeral for an 18 year old who should not have died.

I didn’t just lose an 18 year old son that day in ICU, I lost all the potential wrapped up in his skinny body, all of the future possibilities, everything that Harry could have, should have, would have become.  My first born should be a 28 year old man today, living his best life…would he be married…would he have children…would he still be living in Christchurch…what job would he have settled on…would he still be dancing…what would his art work be focusing on…so many questions!  The biggest one will always be, if he had survived that night, how long would he have had to fight the black dog, and what insights would he have had to share on the other side of that fight?

When a young person dies by suicide, life fractures completely.  There is no way for a parent or a loved one or a friend to comprehend (or prepare for) the loss of a fit, healthy, vibrant young person, who is taken out of time.  The jagged edges of the space they leave behind cause so much pain and grief, and such an overwhelming feeling of disbelief, of complete wrongness.  The knowledge of such a big loss does not sit easily in the souls of those left behind, the jagged edges of it catch on the fabric of life and unexpectedly pull on threads of it (like a song on the car radio…or a fleeting glimpse of a Harry-shaped boy in the supermarket…or the return of an unguarded memory…or in the faces of his friends growing older, when he himself will never age beyond his 18 years and 9 months).  Suicide not only steals away the life of one so precious to those left behind, it also steals away all of that persons potential, all that they could have been, all they should have been.

As I sit here and contemplate the last time I hugged my son, the passage of time means nothing.  The past 10 years have not changed the love I always felt for that wee boyo, from the moment I became aware that the bean-sized being growing inside me had a discernible heartbeat…through the angsty teenage years.  Time does not dull the relationship, time does not change the depth of  loss.  What it does, though, is add layers of life, of new experiences, of deeper understanding…and those layers temper my grief.  It is no longer that all consuming pain I felt in the early days.  It is no longer the painful sting that was ever present in my year of firsts (first meal I cooked myself, first day back at work, first Christmas, birthdays, Mothers Day, first day I managed to drive in the car without crying…)

I used to wear my grief like a massive cloak I wrapped around myself, it billowed, and swung around like it owned all the air around me.  With the passage of time my cloak has di

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The Best New Year’s Resolutions for Pain Relief in 2024

Part 1 of 2 Have you given up on New Year’s resolutions because you haven’t stuck to them in the past or because you’ve lost hope that things can be better for you, especially in terms of chronic pain management? Here are some pointers that can help you succeed in 2024.

New Year’s Resolutions: an American Tradition

As the new year approaches, we think about making a commitment to ourselves to make changes that would improve our lives. The most common resolutions, according to one poll, are:

Exercise more (38 per cent)
Lose weight (33 per cent)
Eat more healthily (32 per cent)
Take a more active approach to health (15 per cent)
Learn new skill or hobby (15 per cent)
Spend more time on personal wellbeing (12 per cent)
Spend more time with family and friends (12 per cent)
Drink less alcohol (12 per cent)
Stop smoking (9 per cent)

The sad fact is only 8% of New Year’s resolutions stick, but there are ways to improve their success rate.

Pain Patients Can Resolve Now to make lifestyle changes to Reduce Pain
While many people in chronic pain don’t believe there’s much they can do to reduce their pain other than taking pills, there is in fact plenty of scientific evidence that all the above lifestyle changes and many others can reduce or even eliminate pain. There are also many new, innovative, non-pharmaceutical treatments that can relieve pain. Experts suggest that to get New Year’s resolutions to stick, set small, achievable goals rather than all or nothing goals. For instance, instead of saying “I will stop eating sugar”, commit to finding some healthier foods that you can start substituting for some of your high sugar foods. Even minor changes can make a big difference in your health and general wellbeing, including pain levels. It’s also helpful to make resolutions that are specific, measurable and achievable. Instead of “I will exercise more” say “I will exercise at least three times a week for at least 15 minutes”. Writing down your goals can also be helpful, as well as sharing them with someone who can hold you accountable.

Here are some suggestions for achievable goals that can make a big difference in your chronic pain management:

Make a commitment to start moving more. Most pain, including back and neck pain, fibromyalgia and arthritis, decreases with movement. At first, if you’re not used to moving at all, you might hurt a little more. Remember when you were younger, and you used to overdo exercise sometimes and you ached? Then your muscles got stronger from the effort, and you were able to do more. Even a small amount of walking, range of motion exercises and/or stretches can make a big difference. Consult a physical therapist, chiropractor, or other health professional if you need guidance. Water exercise classes (available at most YMCAs and some large orthopedic practices) or yoga classes are also good options. Exercising with others can help you stay motivated.
Vow to start eating more fruits and vegetables and healthy fats and less sugar, white flour, and processed foods to reduce inflammation and get the nutrients you need to heal. Again, you don’t have to be perfect, just make small changes as you go along.
Resolve to learn and start practicing a relaxation technique such as meditation, diaphragmatic breathing, or guided visualization. Stress changes physiology in ways that exacerbate pain, and these techniques can calm your physiology and reduce pain. There are apps that can help, including Headspace and Calm, as well as many YouTube videos. The is an inexpensive biofeedback device that can help you stay on track and master relaxation techniques.
Pledge to keep searching for strategies and treatments that can help reduce your pain and try some new treatments this year. Some you might not have tried that can be life changing include,, (also known as low level laser therapy or photobiomodulation), a gluten free diet, or,, a

New Study Finds Kratom Effective for Pain, Addiction

A study by researchers at Johns Hopkins Medical Center has found that kratom is relatively safe and effective for pain, depression and opioid withdrawal.


Approximately 4 years ago I broke my right ankle pretty severely. I had no idea how it would change my life. You see I already been diagnosed with fibromylgia, borderline personality disorder, depression, anxiety, agorphobic like tendencies, complex regional pain syndrome, ADD, low blood sugar, eosinophillic asthma, herpes simplex virus, chronic pain, anemia, low blood pressure, low iron, I don’t remember the name of my skin disease, and I’m not sure if that is all. I had no idea how heavy that plaster cast would be, how how much worse the pain would get, I struggled, man did I struggle. I lived in a 2 storey walk up and had sit on my bum and use my arms to drag myself up the stairs, I could barely support myself on the crutches, I got exhausted so easily, and all I wanted to do was sleep. Then I go an infection, the surgeon did not remove all the stitches properly, I had home care for 6 weeks and I knew my health was declining but I was powerless to stop it. So I tried talking to people, found myself going out less and less, staying in bed more and more. Everything exhausted me, at first I thought that it was my depression, but I used my SAD lamp, I talked to people, I went to therapy, I took my meds and nothing helped. My pain got worse, and eventually I lost touch with almost everyone. I literally couldn’t breathe, I could barely walk, I couldn’t get out of bed, I even gave up hope. No matter what I did nothing would relieve the pain, anxiety, or depression.

For months I laid there not doing anything but going to medical appointments, then one I thought this has to stop, there has to be more, I can’t do this anymore, I can’t do this to my Mother anymore. You see, my Mom came twice a week, every week, the whole time I lay in bed, she cleaned my house, she did my laundry, she drove me places, she came to medical appointments, she reminded me of stuff, she talked, and she did the most important thing of all, she listened to me.

So day by day I started feeling better and doing a bit more, now needles say I have been smoking to much cannabis lately because I got a new doctor and she is taking away my pain meds and drug dealers are trying to take over my apartment, I have 2 grandkids now, but my kids are hardly speaking to me, and won’t listen except for my son who is amazing. And besides my parents and my son my biggest support has been the neighbours in my apartment building. You see disability doesn’t give me enough to make it through the month soon they help me and I hope that I am helping them in some way.

But please spoonies do me a favour and don’t ever give up hope, it’s the most difficult thing in life to come back from.

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I’m new here!

Hi, my name is mysticmtnwildflower. I have a longstanding history of trauma. I am 5 years sober from IV drug use and 2 years away from smoking cigarettes. I am in the midst of a diagnostic process for some autoimmune diseases. I struggle with mental health when I am at my worst for sure. I am seeking support in all forms as I walk this portion of my journey because it has been a struggle as of lately.

#MightyTogether #PTSD #ChronicPain #ChronicIllness

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Tracing back my history with Bipolar I Disorder that was only diagnosed on my 26th year

Part 1 of 2 Arguably, there is no laboratory test applicable to determine whether one is Bipolar or not. The diagnosis is primarily based on individual historical background with unclear mechanisms for each level. For my case, after being deeply engrossed in the management, coping strategies, and diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder, I hereby ink down my history, which could be possibly linked to the condition. This is particularly to help in self-diagnosing, which has been a real deal in managing my condition.

For the last twenty-seven years, life has been difficult to navigate for myself and the people I love. The trauma of poverty in my lifeline began just one month after my birth when my biological father passed away. Whatever followed after then has been a myriad of mysteries. Not about the single-room-old grass-thatched house that dad had built for mother and us years before his demise, not about constantly falling victim to measles and kwashiorkor that clearly resulted from improper dieting and conditional mal-nutrition since my jobless mother could hardly maintain the right diet for a family of four, not about high infestation of jiggers that permanently deformed my toe-nails for constantly going to the local primary school on bare-foot, just but a few case scenarios. Honestly, the trend of my childhood life kept me terrified about what the future had for me.

While growing up, I had completely given up on life and never believed in education as a savior as was purported by my kindergarten teachers, conventionally called nursery. I had then developed a behavior of intentionally missing classes while spending time on a sugarcane plantation with my other friends, just to chew enough of it since I was always sure that surviving on sugarless white porridge for the whole day was routine back home.

One evening, after spending my whole day at school for fear of my mother realizing that I had started missing classes, something awful happened. As usual, I left school for home hungry, hoping to find some porridge in the jerrycan, but this was not the case. Having noticed the despairing response on my face, my eldest sister took to a nearby avocado tree that belonged to my stepmother to find some ready or almost ready fruits so I could eat. In the trial and error process, she had wasted many avocadoes and my stepbrother could not just take it since my father had raised a conservative family, a trait which was also fostered by poverty at home. He then tried stopping my sister but since the mission was still incomplete, she went ahead trying to get a ready fruit. In no time, they had engaged in a physical fight, with step-brother belting her continuously and carelessly as she struggled to alight from the tree. As per the adage, a hungry man is an angry man, I got totally uncontrollable and picked a heavy stone, as young as I was, and charged it towards my stepbrother at top strength. The only thing I remember after then was my brother following me closely for an act of revenge with the same stone but I was able to escape into a nearby maize plantation.

The scenario created constant upheavals between my biological mother and stepmother until I was sent to stay with my uncle, just to cool down the tension that went through the healing process from the stone injury. Again, at my uncle’s place was a different life altogether that shaped a lot of things in my life. First, school was mandatory, and reviewing daily classwork was a routine so I had no option but to stick to it. In no time, I greatly improved my class performance and changed from the bottom five in my previous primary school to the top five, thanks to the daily night tutoring with my education-oriented uncle.

At this time, I had started believing that the only tool I had to transform our life and deliver me from experiencing a replica of the past life was education. I decided to give it my all and became a top student up to my last paper in secondary school which got me to university. After completing my degree studies and graduating with second class honors-Upper Division in Communication and Public Relations, I was now ready to serve my family, and the community at large since I was a second-degree victim of poverty, with a better part of my education funded by the society. However, this did not happen so fast, which again sent me to frequently picture my life before engaging in active smoking of marijuana with a delusional belief relieving stress. Just to fulfill my family’s expectations, I engaged in online freelancing services where I got some writing projects on different topics from students in the UK, USA, and Australia majorly. While still, this could not sufficiently support my siblings’ school fees and I did extra work to manage my basic bills. Every time, I kept hoping that things would change for

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