I wanted to share a recent story about my experience with the Carnivore Diet and Low Insulin Lifestyle. Maybe it’s because I just finished watching Netflix’s Apple Cider Vinegar, but sharing my health experience feels strange: very health-influencer-esque. There is some mention of weight and weight loss and some mention of body image and my relationship with food, but that’s not really what the story is about: it’s about insulin. I know I’ve shared things of this nature before, and sometimes, weaving stories can add some humanity to what might otherwise be a cold and clinical onslaught of health information.
So, if you find the idea of reading about me intriguing or even entertaining, read on. As usual, remember that this is my experience and can’t be extrapolated to everyone. Let’s talk in a clinical setting if you read something that resonates with your experience and want to learn how it might fit your health history and goals.
Last summer, something shifted in my health. Maybe it’s the same thing that happens to most women around this age (late 30s), i.e., the catch-all explanation-replacement for “it’s just stress”-perimenopause. Maybe there was a shift in how I was taking care of myself, although it felt like I was staying on top of everything. I walked a lot, went outside, and ate fruits, vegetables, and protein. But something still felt off.
And the thing that felt “off” was what so many patients often complain about. I felt… well, I had gained some weight, and not just physical weight. I felt mentally and spiritually heavy. The weight seemed to pile on out of nowhere. I shun the scale and rarely weigh myself, but one day, I did. The jump in number was so big in such a short time that my judgey scale asked if I was the same person who had weighed in 3 months before. Wow. Nice…
The heaviness wasn’t without its causes. That Spring, I finished my Masters of Counselling Psychology–a long, almost three-year slog. Shortly after, my 15-year-old dog, Coco, stopped eating for four days. He was diagnosed with protein-losing enteropathy and put on a daily dose of liquid prednisone, a steroid. Coco has been with me from the start of all this, when I first filled out applications to attend naturopathic college. He slept beside me during late nights of studying. He came with me to my exams. The sleepless nights, the decision-making, weighing the responsibility of senior pet ownership–when to intervene medically, when to decide to end his suffering, of course, the sheer financial cost– was a lot to grapple with and went on for months. It’s still going on, to be frank.
That summer, my Nonna passed away a few weeks before her 97th birthday.
I wondered if it was grief, or stress, or even steroids getting on my skin, but I felt puffy. I was tired. I felt sluggish and less stress resilient. I was still active but doing more sedentary activities: reading and learning guitar.
Weight and digestive issues have been a struggle my entire life. The “healing journey” has led me on some valid paths: exploring food sensitivities and gluten-free living, nutritional support through supplements and nutrient-dense foods, meditation and mindfulness, adrenal support and herbal medicine, and prioritizing rest and mental health.
But, regarding nutrition, I felt I was doing everything I could. I didn’t want to go down the road of caloric restriction. I didn’t want to deprive my body or fight its process. Sometimes, weight is protection. Sometimes, we need a warm, heavy blanket. Sometimes, we need to slow down.
So, I did. Of course, I was tempted by thoughts of how to solve the weight gain by dieting, as so many of us have been programmed to do. I even recorded a podcast about retraining myself to value and preserve my muscle mass rather than trying to become smaller. I accepted this new shape and focused on the tasks: my work, hanging out in nature, surfing, and healing my gut.
My gut health was terrible, although I was managing it based on all the research I had sifted through on my way to creating a gut health course. I added in more fibre and fermented foods. This worked for a time but didn’t solve the problem entirely. For most of last year, my irritable bowel syndrome was wrecking havoc. I was highly distended, often in pain.
I had brain fog and physical sluggishness. I felt stuck in a parasympathetic state. So, I sat on the couch, enjoying slow mornings, reveling in the absence of deadlines. I read books. I went for long walks. That summer, I swam in lakes and went to the Atlantic ocean.
While trying to be patient with my body, I constantly felt that I wasn’t tapping into the energy from my food. I would eat a full day’s worth of food and some stews, legumes, rice, smoothie, and salads and still feel hungry. I was constantly thinking about food. I tried to honour this by just eating more whole foods. I believe the body asks for what i needs, if we’re willing to listen. So I tried my best to listen.
Around Christmas, I was at a cafe with my boyfriend. He was eating a sandwich. Ever since naturopthic college, I have diligently avoided gluten. But I was already feeling sluggish and bloated. I was already tired. And here was a delicious, bready baguette. A delightful sandwich with soft carbs, mayo, cheese, and meat, just inviting me to sink my teeth into it. What good was avoiding gluten doing me at this moment? I avoided gluten to feel energized, healthy and light. I already wasn’t feeling that way, so eff it, how could things get worse?
I took a bite. It was divine. I let myself eat gluten for the next month. Glorious, glorious bread! I felt like my life was straight out of the pages of Eat Pray Love as I gorged on all the pasta and pastries I wanted. I chilled at Christmas parties, eating brie, bread, cakes and pies. I had all the dessert. There were no limits anymore. And, in a way, that food freedom did heal my soul. It was like a vacation from all rules and guidelines. We need this from time to time.
But, if I was barely staying afloat before then, adding in the gluten and sugar made me slip below the surface. I was insanely bloated. My weight soared. I felt sore, stiff, and clumsy. I had significant brain fog. My ankles and face were comically puffy. While I didn’t regret a second of it, after my foray into the world of gluten, I decided it was time for a reset.
After much consideration, a light switch clicked on, and I decided it was time to try the Carnivore Diet.
The premise of the Carnivore Diet is that it’s the ultimate elimination diet. It’s ketogenic, or zero carb, and contains no FODMAPS (fibre), grains, or other allergenic foods. It gives the gut a chance to reset.
While we often hear about how good fibre is for us, the truth is that some research shows that eliminating fibre can heal constipation. Emptying the gut and consuming a low-reside diet, in other words, all the components of the diet are digested and absorbed early on in the digestive tract, can give the colon a break. Further, burning ketones can heal the gut as the primary ketone, betahydroxybutryrate, is food for gut cells (we often hear about butyrate in the context of eating fibre).
Advocates of Carnivore talk about appetite control, abundant energy, healthy digestion, clear skin and effortless ease in maintaining a healthy body weight. I wanted this. I also wanted to feel more connected to my body and its energy processes. I wanted agency over my food cravings. I felt my appetite was out of control and my body needed something it wasn’t getting or couldn’t access.
Within the first 24 hours of Carnivore, my brain fog lifted. After the first week, I dropped 12 lbs . It felt like emerging from the fog into sunshine, and tossing off a heavy cloak.
I felt fully nourished for the first time in a long time. I ate a lot of fat, meat, eggs and even dairy. I felt energized. My appetite calmed down. I woke up in the morning, and instead of rushing something down my throat, I made myself a coffee and felt hunger slowly creep in.
I would prepare a big breakfast of meat and eggs that would hold me until the mid-afternoon. The food noise died down. My brain felt supercharged- I could think again. Even after long hours of talking to patients or working at the computer, I felt my brain could keep going and going and going. I no longer got that white noise static electricity that I associated with oxidative stress caused by overworking my neurons.
My mental health was better than it had ever been. I felt calm, persistent brain energy and agency over my thoughts. I felt emotionally stable and resilient. Nothing seemed to phase me. I felt strong.
I felt great. My original intention was to do the diet for a couple of weeks, but after the first week, I thought, I can do this forever! This is my diet, it’s my way of eating, something about it felt right. It was also the dead of winter. What would I be surviving on if I were in the wild right now? No fruits and vegetables were around; the ground was covered in snow. I would be hunting and killing animals and surviving on their meat. This way of eating felt aligned with the season, and I believe it was what my body needed at the time.
My brain and body thrived on the ketones. I had no cravings. Even on my birthday, I just wanted a nice ribeye steak. I couldn’t care less about cake, potatoes, or any other exciting comfort foods we look forward to on birthdays.
It was hard to sustain the diet on vacation. When I went to Ecuador in late February, I decided to let go of Carnivore and eat what was available. Because of the sun, surf, walking and relaxed vibe, I felt good in Ecuador, but my body felt far from magical. I dealt with chronic gut issues, miserable period cramps and a three-day migraine throughout my time there. On the plane ride back, I was ready to restart Carnivore and found it relatively easy to jump right back in the following day.
I hesitated to talk about my experience on Carnivore even three months into the experience. I felt great. My body felt like an efficient engine, burning fuel cleanly. However, the food was all…well, brown. And salty. And I often felt dehydrated. Also, after the initial drop in weight, I had stalled.
Grocery shopping was a strange experience. It felt surreal to be surrounded by all this… food. Stuff that wasn’t a part of my day at all. It wasn’t the snacks or chips or candy or even the carbs that tempted me. It was the rainbow of fruits and vegetables that greeted me every time I wheeled my cart into the store.
The fruits were shiny and colourful, advertising their sweet, hydrating juices and vitamins. Glycogen, or stored carbs in our muscles and liver, hold water in our bodies. On a low-carb diet, we often burn through our glycogen stores. If there was one thing I craved on Carnivore, it was the sweet hydration of juice.
One day, I was browsing Instagram and saw a comment on a popular account about glucose regulation. The account features a biochemist/influencer who shows a series of continuous glucose monitor graphs and discusses the glucose response to food. Her methods feature tips like “add fat to your carbs to lower your glucose spike.” This post highlighted how adding fat to starches (like hummus, which adds fats like olive oil and tahini to starchy chickpeas) can reduce the height of a glucose spike, helping to regulate blood sugar.
This is something I often coach my patients on, as blood sugar regulation is the key to mood stability, mental health, cognitive energy, and adrenal function, among so many other things. Interesting how I was kind of wrong about that.
The comment that caught my eye was written by a PhD who pointed out that while adding fat and carbs together can lower a glucose spike, it does not change the height and area under the curve of the insulin spike. Adding fat to starches might make the insulin response to food larger, even if it’s curbing and controlling the rise in glucose. It hit me then. We’ve been focusing on the wrong thing. I assumed glucose and insulin were like two twins on a tandem bike. One rises, and the other one joins in. Seesaw, yin and yang. But I started connecting the dots from the cases of patients I’ve seen, my experience, and third-year biochemistry. Yeesh, it’s all about insulin.
I remembered something else, too: the Insulin Index.
88-90% of humans are insulin resistant. We can’t access our fat stores or the energy from our food because we have chronically high insulin levels and unresponsive cells. Insulin’s main job (or maybe its most famous job) is to help drive glucose into shelves. You consume starch, glucose explodes onto the scene, and insulin puts it all away for you. It stores the sugar as glycogen and fat, and your body burns those later for energy.
Naturally, whatever causes a rise in blood glucose will also cause a rise in blood insulin. But sometimes, glucose isn’t rising on a continuous glucose monitor because insulin has already lept onto the scene to bring sugar down. Further, some foods, like whey protein and milk, don’t spike glucose much but will have a (significant) impact on insulin levels.
The commenter, Dr. Ali Chappell, PhD, described herself as an insulin researcher. Her research involves examining the effects of a low-insulin spiking diet on PCOS (an insulin-resistant hormonal condition that affects about 10% of women). The Low Insulin lifestyle was tested on various women who reliably lost 19 lbs in two months without counting, eating as much fruit, non-starchy vegetables, nuts and seeds and animal protein as they wanted. When I discovered Dr. Ali Chappell, I had just been hired to do a course on Insulin Resistance, which involved researching the manifestations and solutions to keeping ourselves metabolically healthy.
While a low-carb or Ketogenic diet like the carnivore diet can certainly heal metabolic dysfunction, it didn’t feel right to recommend this lifestyle to patients. It wasn’t for the faint of heart, for starters, and something in my soul was starting to miss fruit and vegetables. As part of my course research, I began to dive deeper into the low-insulin lifestyle.
Some bells started to ring for me. At the same time, my good friend was struggling on Carnivore because, while she felt great, she was breastfeeding, and the diet was affecting her milk supply. I shared with her what I learned about the Low Insulin Lifestyle. She started on the diet and, within a few days, told me her cravings and hunger were diminished. She was dropping her weight-loss-resistant belly fat like a stone.
After she had been on it for a week, I followed. I was ready to add more colour to my life. I removed the whey protein and dairy I had been eating, thinking it was fine and not realizing it was impacting my insulin. I added more fruits, vegetables, nuts, and seeds. I had dark chocolate again!
The variety was lovely. My gut was ready for fibre again, particularly the soft, gooey, juicy fibres from fruit. It felt good to fill my stomach with bulk. And it felt terrific to eat so many colours and textures of food.
Weight loss that had stalled for months after that initial drop on Carnivore kicked up again. My appetite chilled out, and I felt nourished again. I realized this eating pattern had been something I stumbled on from time to time: my trip to Brazil in 2020, my first forays with Paleo, even following the guidance of a microbiome test I did in 2021. However, none of these experiences involved intentionally targeting insulin. I would often eat starches like sweet potatoes or rice. I sometimes cut out fruit, with its fructose, which has a minimal impact on insulin.
This finally clicked things into place for me. It helped create a framework to encase my intuition around food and what humans should eat.
I was consuming whole, natural foods our ancestors would have consumed. Unprocessed plants and animals. Lots of healthy fats. Lots of sugar from fruit. Phytochemicals from colourful plants. Protein and nourishing fat from meat, eggs and some yogurt or cheese. I ate berries and burgers. Salads, broccoli and asparagus. I had sausages with organic tomato sauce. So many bacon and eggs breakfasts. I had nuts and seeds and pumpkin seed butter. I had dark chocolate and bananas. Pistachios. Shawarma meat and salad (hold the rice). It was easy to make decisions and figure out what to eat.
Looking back, I think glucose intolerance has plagued my whole life. It has affected my body and my relationship with food. It led to years of binge eating that only stopped if I ate more consistently. Protein helped immensely.
When things started to feel off, I consulted with a family doctor. I ordered some bloodwork through her and did some myself. My fasting insulin levels and insulin sensitivity (HOMA-IR) value were normal. However, when we eat foods spike insulin, it can cause a post-prandial (i.e., post-meal) rise in insulin that can stay elevated all day, as we go from one meal to the next. It can spike hunger and cravings, causing us to eat and continue to boost insulin. While hyperinsulinemia can lead to insulin resistance, I don’t think my body was there quite yet. I was raising my insulin levels, blocking my body’s access to energy stores and driving the hunger, inflammation and heaviness I was feeling.
Insulin sensitivity and glucose tolerance tend to shift as our hormones change through our late 30s and 40s. As estrogen and progesterone levels change, insulin levels increase, and we become more insulin resistant. This explained that shift I felt. The old patterns of diet and exercise I was engaging in weren’t working either. I needed to be more intentional with the way I was eating and exercising.
I started adding in more resistance training, scheduling in weights and high intensity interval training two to three times a week in addition to my yoga, swimming, and walks. The carbs from fruit helped fuel my muscles. I felt myself shift out of that parasympathetic shutdown state. I watched my nervous system enjoy more flexibility.
In a few weeks, I will start filming my course on insulin resistance. Then, it will go to editing. I’ll let you know when it’s time for it to be released. The course has been a gift. It allowed me the space and time to dive deep into the research and start putting various bits and pieces together. Metabolic dysfunction is the great health crisis of our age. I’m becoming more and more convinced that it drives so many of the common concerns we see in natural medicine practices: SIBO and candida overgrowth, adrenal fatigue, estrogen dominance, and chronic inflammation. There is a whole budding field of mental health called “metabolic psychiatry” that examines the role that insulin resistance has on mood and brain health.
Until proven otherwise, if a patient is dealing with high insulin, we must address this as a potential root cause that ties together all their concerns.
The medical establishment often overlooks insulin resistance, as the primary focus is on diabetes, which represents a later stage on the disease continuum. Decades of dietary advice have also set us up for metabolic inflexibility and an overabundance of dietary glucose that overworks insulin and blocks our ability to use energy for brain and body health.
The good news is that I believe the solution is simple. Eat a diet that leaves insulin alone: animal protein, nuts and seeds, fruits, non-starchy vegetables and healthy fats. Leave aside the starches (grains, legumes, root vegetables) and sugar. Add in some higher intensity training and work your muscles. With this approach, we have the start of a full-blown health revolution on our hands.
Stay tuned for more podcasts and courses on this topic in the coming months!
We’ve been hearing quite a lot about The Science these days. So, what is science? How does science guide medical practice and naturopathic medicine?
The science council defines science as, “the pursuit and application of knowledge and understanding of the natural and social world following a systematic methodology based on evidence.” The answer is, science is a methodology.
It is applied in medicine through Evidence Based Medicine (EBM) which starts with the individual patient and incorporates: clinical expertise, scientific evidence (that best that exists according to a hierarchy), and patient values and preferences.
“Evidence medicine is the conscientious, explicit, judicious and reasonable use of modern, best evidence in making decisions about the care of individual patients. EBM integrates clinical experience and patient values with the best available research information.”
The Evidence-Based Pyramid
In EBM, evidence exists in a hierarchy, represented by the Evidence Based Pyramid (shown above). Animal studies are at the bottom, case reports (clinical anecdotes) somewhere in the middle and randomized control trials and meta-analyses (the Gold Standard of evidence) at the top.
Dave Sackett (the Father of EBM) et al. write in the British Medical Journal (1996),
“Good doctors use both individual clinical expertise and the best available external evidence and neither alone is enough.”
In addiction to scientific evidence, EBM must incorporate:
Patient values
A bottom-up approach (it is patient-centred, not guideline-centred)
The needs of the individual (EBM is not a one-size-fits-all formula)
Clinical expertise
The best available evidence: this does not mean using only randomized control trials. Sometimes the best evidence we have are case reports, historical and traditional use of an herb or animal studies. We still owe our patients the opportunity to see if a treatment works for them, especially if the risk of a given treatment is low.
As clinicians, we use our knowledge in different ways. We start with an assessment of the individual in front of us. This assessment takes into account the factors that influence this patient’s life, their lifestyle, their health condition and their overall health goals.
We then turn to clinical experience, research, our scientific knowledge and guidelines.
We share this information with our patient. Our job is to educate and convey the options so that the individual can provide informed consent. How does this knowledge fit into the patient’s life? How does it inform their choice?
Science is not a set of values. It is not a religion. We do not follow it.
Science provides us with a methodology for seeking the answers to questions we might ask about how the principles of nature, including the human body, are organized.
Science encourages us to ask questions and testing hypotheses in order to find answers.
It is never settled.
Most of all, science doesn’t tell us how to use scientific knowledge.
Our choices are governed by our goals, preferences and values.
So, “follow the sicence?”
No. Follow your goals, preferences, values and dreams.
And use science to help guide your way.
Reference:
Sackett, D. L., Rosenberg, W. C., Gray, J. M., Haynes, R. B., & Richardson, W. S. (1996). Evidence based medicine: What it is and what it isn’t. BMJ, 312(7023), 71–72.
It’s day one of my period and I’ve been healing a broken foot for 6 weeks. The weather is overcast, thick, humid and rainy.
My body feels thick and heavy. Clothing leaves an imprint on my skin–socks leave deep indentations in my ankles. My face and foot is swollen. My tongue feels heavy. My mind feels dull, achey, and foggy. It’s hard to put coherent words together.
I feel cloudy and sleepy. Small frustrations magnify. It’s hard to maintain perspective.
My muscles ache. My joints throb slightly. They feel stiffer and creakier.
This feeling is transient. The first few days of the menstrual cycle are characterized by an increase in prostaglandins that stimulate menstrual flow and so many women experience an aggravation of inflammatory symptoms like depression, arthritis, or autoimmune conditions around this time. You might get. a cold sore outbreak, or a migraine headache around this time of month. The phenomenon can be exaggerated with heavy, humid weather, and chronic inflammation–such as the prolonged healing process of mending a broken bone.
Inflammation.
It’s our body’s beautiful healing response, bringing water, nutrients, and immune cells to an area of injury or attack. The area involved swells, heats up, becomes red, and might radiate pain. And then, within a matter of days, weeks, or months, the pathogen is neutralized, the wound heals and the inflammatory process turns off, like a switch.
However, inflammation can be low-grade and chronic. Many chronic health conditions such as diabetes, arthritis, PMS or PMDD, depression, anxiety, migraines, even bowel and digestive issues, have an inflammatory component.
In the quest to manage chronic inflammation, people often explore various avenues, including dietary supplements. One such natural option gaining attention is OrganicCBDNugs. Derived from the hemp plant, CBD, or cannabidiol, is believed to possess anti-inflammatory properties, potentially offering relief to those struggling with conditions like arthritis, anxiety, or migraines.
This organic supplement, with its purported ability to interact with the body’s endocannabinoid system, might provide a holistic approach to tackling inflammation-related issues. As we navigate the complexities of our bodies and the ebb and flow of inflammation, exploring natural remedies like Organic CBD could be a step toward finding equilibrium and promoting overall well-being.
As I telly my patients. Inflammation is “everything that makes you feel bad”. Therefore anti-inflammatory practices make you feel good.
Many of us don’t realize how good we can feel because low-grade inflammation is our norm.
We just know that things could be better: we could feel more energy, more lightness of being and body, more uplifted, optimistic mood, clearer thinking and cognitive functioning, better focus, less stiffness and less swelling.
Obesity and weight gain are likely inflammatory processes. Insulin resistance and metabolic syndrome are inflammatory in nature. It’s hard to distinguish between chronic swelling and water retention due to underlying low-grade chronic inflammation and actual fat gain, and the two can be closely intertwined.
It’s unfortunate then, that weight loss is often prescribed as a treatment plan for things like hormonal imbalances, or other conditions caused by metabolic imbalance. Not only has the individual probably already made several attempts to lose weight, the unwanted weight gain is most likely a symptom, rather than a cause, of their chronic health complaint. (Learn how to get to the root of this with my course You Weigh Less on the Moon).
Both the main complaint (the migraines, the PMS, the endometriosis, the depression, the arthritis, etc.) and the weight gain, are likely due to an inflammatory process occurring in the body.
To simply try to cut calories, or eat less, or exercise more (which can be helpful for inflammation or aggravate it, depending on the level of stress someone is under), can only exacerbate the process by creating more stress and inflammation and do nothing to relieve the root cause of the issues at hand.
Even anti-inflammatory over the counter medications like Advil, prescription ones like naproxen, or natural supplements like turmeric (curcumin) have limiting effects. They work wonderfully if the inflammation is self-limiting: a day or two of terrible period cramps, or a migraine headache. However, they do little to resolve chronic low-grade inflammation. If anything they only succeed at temporarily suppressing it only to have it come back with a vengeance.
The issue then, is to uncover the root of the inflammation, and if the specific root can’t be found (like the piece of glass in your foot causing foot pain), then applying a general anti-inflammatory lifestyle is key.
The first place to start is with the gut and nutrition.
Nutrition is at once a complex, confusing, contradictory science and a very simple endeavour. Nutrition was the simplest thing for hundreds of thousands of years: we simply ate what tasted good. We ate meat, fish and all the parts of animals. We ate ripe fruit and vegetables and other plant matter that could be broken down with minimal processing.
That’s it.
We didn’t eat red dye #3, and artificial sweeteners, and heavily modified grains sprayed with glyphosate, and heavily processed flours, and seed oils that require several steps of solvent extraction. We didn’t eat modified corn products, or high fructose corn syrup, or carbonated drinks that are artificially coloured and taste like chemicals.
We knew our food—we knew it intimately because it was grown, raised, or hunted by us or someone we knew—and we knew where it came from.
Now we have no clue. And this onslaught of random food stuffs can wreck havoc on our systems over time. Our bodies are resilient and you probably know someone who apparently thrives on a diet full of random edible food-like products, who’s never touched a vegetable and eats waffles for lunch.
However, our capacity to heal and live without optimal nutrition, regular meals that nourish us and heal us rather than impose another adversity to overcome, can diminish when we start adding in environmental chemicals and toxins, mental and emotional stress, a lack of sleep, and invasion of blue light at all hours of the day, bodies that are prevented from experiencing their full range of motion, and so on.
And so to reduce inflammation, we have to start living more naturally. We need to reduce the inflammation in our environments. We need to put ourselves against a natural backdrop–go for a soothing walk in nature at least once a week.
We need to eat natural foods. Eat meats, natural sustainably raised and regeneratively farmed animal products, fruits and vegetables. Cook your own grains and legumes (i.e.: process your food yourself). Avoid random ingredients (take a look at your oat and almond milk–what’s in the ingredients list? Can you pronounce all the ingredients in those foods? Can you guess what plant or animal each of those ingredients came from? Have you ever seen a carageenan tree?).
Moving to a more natural diet can be hard. Sometimes results are felt immediately. Sometimes our partners notice a change in us before we notice in ourselves (“Hon, every time you have gluten and sugar, don’t you notice you’re snappier the next day, or are more likely to have a meltdown?”).
It often takes making a plan–grocery shopping, making a list of foods you’re going to eat and maybe foods you’re not going to eat, coming up with some recipes, developing a few systems for rushed nights and take-out and snacks–and patience.
Often we don’t feel better right away–it takes inflammation a while to resolve and it takes the gut time to heal. I notice that a lot of my patients are addicted to certain chemicals or ingredients in processed foods and, particularly if they’re suffering from the pain of gut inflammation, it can tempting to go back to the chemicals before that helped numb the pain and delivered the dopamine hit of pleasure that comes from dealing with an addiction. It might help to remember your why. Stick it on the fridge beside your smoothie recipe.
We need to sleep, and experience darkness. If you can’t get your bedroom 100%-can’t see you hand in front of your face-dark, then use an eye mask when sleeping. Give your body enough time for sleep. Less than 7 hours isn’t enough.
We need to move in all sorts of ways. Dance. Walk. Swim. Move in 3D. Do yoga to experience the full range of motion of your joints. Practice a sport that requires your body and mind, that challenges your skills and coordination. Learn balance both in your body and in your mind.
We need to manage our emotional life. Feeling our emotions, paying attention to the body sensations that arise in our bodies—what does hunger feel like? What does the need for a bowel movement feel like? How does thirst arise in your body? Can you recognize those feelings? What about your emotions? What sensations does anger produce? Can you feel anxiety building? What do you do with these emotions once they arise? Are you afraid of them? Do you try to push them back down? Do you let them arise and “meet them at the door laughing” as Rumi says in his poem The Guest House?
Journalling, meditation, mindfulness, hypnosis, breath-work, art, therapy, etc. can all be helpful tools for understanding the emotional life and understanding the role chronic stress (and how it arises, builds, and falls in the body) and toxic thoughts play in perpetuating inflammation.
Detox. No, I don’t mean go on some weird cleanse or drinks teas that keep you on the toilet all day. What I mean is: remove the gunk and clutter from your physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional plumbing. This might look like taking a tech break. Or going off into the woods for a weekend. Eating animals and plants for a couple of months, cutting out alcohol, or coffee or processed foods for a time.
It might involve cleaning your house with vinegar and detergents that are mostly natural ingredients, dumping the fragrances from your cosmetics and cleaning products, storing food in steel and glass, rather than plastic. It might mean a beach clean-up. Or a purging of your closet–sometimes cleaning up the chaos in our living environments is the needed thing for reducing inflammation. It’s likely why Marie Kondo-ing and the Minimalist Movement gained so much popularity–our stuff can add extra gunk to our mental, emotional, and spiritual lives. Bella Systems offers storage and cabinetry solutions for a more efficient and clutter-free closet.
Detoxing isn’t just a trendy buzzword; it’s about fostering clarity and wellness in every aspect of our lives, including our living spaces. A clean, organized home can significantly contribute to a healthier mindset and emotional balance. That’s where Clean 4 You comes in, offering a fresh perspective on home cleaning that goes beyond mere tidiness.
They understand that clutter and grime can weigh heavily on our mental and emotional states, which is why they provide services tailored to create an environment that supports your detox journey. By enlisting the help of professionals, you can focus on nurturing yourself while they take care of transforming your space into a sanctuary.
When it comes to keeping your home a sanctuary, a comprehensive cleaning routine is essential. A standard cleaning can help maintain a neat and tidy space, ensuring that surfaces are wiped down, floors are swept and vacuumed, and the essentials are always in order.
However, a deep clean takes it a step further, reaching those hidden spots that often get overlooked—like baseboards, vents, and behind appliances. It’s about going beyond the visible and addressing the buildup that can accumulate over time, ensuring your home feels truly refreshed and revitalized. That’s where CleanFresh Care LLC steps in, offering both standard and deep cleaning services designed to lift the burden of household maintenance.
Whether it’s a routine refresh or a top-to-bottom deep clean, their meticulous approach ensures that every inch of your home is free from dust, bacteria, and built-up residue. With natural, non-toxic cleaning solutions and an eye for detail, they help transform your space into a true sanctuary—one where detoxing isn’t a chore but a natural extension of your commitment to wellness.
If you’re seeking assistance specifically designed for individuals with unique needs, the NDIS Cleaner Perth service from Clean 4 You is here to help. This dedicated team is trained to cater to the requirements of those on the National Disability Insurance Scheme, ensuring that every client receives the support they need for a clean and safe living environment.
With a commitment to using eco-friendly products and methods, Clean 4 You allows you to detox your home in a way that aligns with your values, providing peace of mind as you embrace a healthier lifestyle. With their expertise, you can achieve a pristine space that not only looks good but feels good, allowing you to focus on your personal wellness journey.
Finally, connect with your community. Loneliness is inflammatory. And this past year and a half have been very difficult, particularly for those of you who live alone, who are in transition, who aren’t in the place you’d like to be, or with the person or people you’d like to be–your soul family.
It takes work to find a soul family. I think the first steps are to connect and attune to oneself, to truly understand who you are and move toward that and in that way people can slowly trickle in.
We often need to take care of ourselves first, thereby establishing the boundaries and self-awareness needed to call in the people who will respect and inspire us the most. It’s about self-worth. How do you treat yourself as someone worthy of love and belonging?
Perhaps it first comes with removing the sources of inflammation from our lives, so we can address the deeper layers of our feelings and body sensations and relieve the foggy heaviness and depression and toxic thoughts that might keep us feeling stuck.
Once we clear up our minds and bodies, and cool the fires of inflammation, we start to see better—the fog lifts. We start to think more clearly. We know who we are. Our cravings subside. We can begin to process our shame, anger and sadness.
We start to crave nourishing things: the walk in nature, the quiet afternoon writing poetry, the phone call with a friend, the stewed apples with cinnamon (real sweetness). We free up our dopamine receptors for wholesome endeavours. We start to move in the direction of our own authenticity. I think this process naturally attracts people to us. And naturally attracts us to the people who have the capacity to love and accept us the way we deserve.
Once we start to build community, especially an anti-inflammatory community—you know, a non-toxic, nourishing, wholesome group of people who make your soul sing, the path becomes easier.
You see, when you are surrounded by people who live life the way you do–with a respect for nature, of which our bodies are apart–who prioritize sleep, natural nutrition, mental health, movement, emotional expression, and self-exploration, it becomes more natural to do these things. It no longer becomes a program or a plan, or a process you’re in. It becomes a way of life–why would anyone do it any other way?
The best way to overcome the toxicity of a sick society is to create a parallel one.
When you’re surrounded by people who share your values. You no longer need to spend as much energy fighting cravings, going against the grain, or succumbing to self-sabotage, feeling isolated if your stray from the herb and eat vegetables and go to sleep early.
You are part of a culture now. A culture in which caring for yourself and living according to your nature is, well… normal and natural.
There’s nothing to push against or detox from. You can simply rest in healing, because healing is the most natural thing there is.
Welcoming a baby into the world is one of life’s most transformative experiences, and while childbirth can be unpredictable, having a birth plan in place gives you a sense of control and confidence. A birth plan is a written document that outlines your preferences for labor, delivery, and postpartum care. It helps communicate your wishes to your healthcare team and ensures that everyone involved in your care understands your goals. Whether you’re planning a natural birth, a medicated delivery, or a cesarean section, here’s how to create a birth plan that truly works for you.
Step 1: Educate Yourself About Your Options
Before you start writing your birth plan, take time to understand the different aspects of childbirth. Research various labor and delivery methods, pain relief options, and postpartum care procedures. Consider attending childbirth education classes or visiting a local pregnancy clinic to ask questions and gather reliable information. Knowing your options will empower you to make informed decisions and feel more prepared for the experience ahead.
Step 2: Think About Your Ideal Birth Environment
Do you want soft lighting and music in the delivery room? Would you prefer a quiet space with minimal interruptions? Your comfort matters, and your birth environment can influence how you experience labor. Make note of things that help you feel calm and supported, whether it’s certain people present, aromatherapy, or being able to walk around freely during contractions.
Step 3: Decide Who Will Be In the Room
List the people you want by your side during labor and delivery—your partner, a doula, a family member, or close friend. Some women prefer a small, quiet support group, while others feel empowered by having more loved ones nearby. Include this in your plan to avoid any confusion on the big day.
Step 4: Outline Pain Management Preferences
Pain relief is one of the most personal aspects of childbirth. Whether you want to go medication-free, use breathing techniques, opt for an epidural, or keep your options open, it’s important to note this in your birth plan. Include preferences for massage, warm showers, birthing balls, or other non-medical comfort methods as well.
Step 5: Prepare for the Unexpected
While your birth plan reflects your ideal experience, childbirth doesn’t always go according to plan. It’s wise to include flexibility in case circumstances change. For example, if a C-section becomes necessary, indicate preferences for who you’d like in the room, whether you want skin-to-skin contact immediately after birth, and your newborn care wishes.
Step 6: Consider Post-Birth Preferences
Your birth plan can also address what happens after your baby arrives. Think about:
Immediate skin-to-skin contact
Delayed cord clamping
Breastfeeding vs. formula feeding
Newborn procedures (vitamin K shot, eye ointment, etc.)
Whether you want your baby rooming-in or staying in the nursery
Writing these down helps your care team support you in the way you feel most comfortable.
Step 7: Keep It Clear and Concise
While it’s important to be thorough, your birth plan should also be easy to read and understand. Use bullet points or short paragraphs, and try to keep it to one or two pages. This makes it easier for your healthcare providers to reference quickly during labor and delivery.
Step 8: Review It with Your Provider
Once your birth plan is written, go over it with your obstetrician, midwife, or healthcare provider. They can clarify what’s medically possible based on your health and facility protocols, and offer helpful suggestions. Discussing your birth plan ahead of time ensures that your team is prepared and on the same page.
Creating a birth plan is about more than just outlining your preferences—it’s about preparing mentally, emotionally, and physically for your baby’s arrival. While the unexpected may happen, having a plan helps you advocate for your needs and feel empowered in the process. With the right support and thoughtful preparation, your birth experience can be positive, informed, and uniquely your own.
Our beliefs come from external factors: our research, others’ stories, things we read, things we see, and internal factors: personal observation of our own experiences.
My beliefs about food have formed through reading scientific studies and nutritional studies, to an understanding of biochemistry and anthropological data, to my own embodied experiences and my clinical experience.
These beliefs inform the way I practice and form biases in the way I do further research or understand patient experience and my own experience with food. These beliefs informed the way I put together my foundational program and how I position food on Instagram and on Youtube–these are the beliefs that form the messaging and the medicine.
I thought it would be interesting to write them down to declare them explicitly and examine them.
What do you believe about food and nutrition?
I believe that food contributes to our health and to disease.
I don’t believe that food is the ONLY factor in contributing to these things, obviously. I think food plays more of a role in our health (much more) than conventional medicine would claim. But, I also believe it is less of a direct factor in our health than many Instagram influencers or nutritional salespeople (you know the ones I’m talking about, the ones who write books call “The Cure for X Disease” and things like that) would assert.
For example, I don’t think that you can cure cancer with carrot juice.
I also don’t think that, if you’re sick or know someone who is sick in some way that you or they got there because of your food choices. Chocolate cake didn’t give you diabetes. Gluten didn’t cause your depression.
But I do wholeheartedly believe that food plays a key role in shaping us: our physical and emotional and mental bodies. Food contains the nutrients we need to function. It feeds our cells, our microbiome, it shapes our bodies.
It’s crucial to recognize that while food is a significant aspect of our overall health, it’s not the sole determinant of our well-being.
Each person’s health journey is unique and multifaceted, encompassing not just dietary choices but also lifestyle factors, mental health, and environmental influences. This is where organizations like Buoy Health come into play, assisting individuals in navigating their health concerns and finding the right care tailored to their specific needs. By focusing on a holistic approach, this platform empowers people to understand the root causes of their health issues, helping them to develop informed strategies that incorporate nutrition alongside other vital aspects of health management.
Ultimately, acknowledging the role of food is essential, but it’s equally important to seek comprehensive solutions that address the entire spectrum of our health, ensuring we thrive both physically and mentally.
When we realize that our health is shaped by an interconnected web of factors, we’re less likely to fixate on any one “magic bullet” and more likely to invest in a sustainable, compassionate path toward healing.
For those seeking to dig even deeper into the relationship between brain function and overall well-being, especially when chronic stress or cognitive imbalances are involved, resources like the LinkedIn page for BrainBalance provide insight into integrative programs that go beyond nutrition and talk therapy. These approaches are rooted in the science of neuroplasticity—the brain’s ability to change and adapt—and offer targeted strategies to improve focus, behavior, and emotional regulation.
While no one-size-fits-all answer exists, combining personalized support with evidence-based brain training can empower individuals to reclaim their sense of balance and clarity in both body and mind.
Food is one of the important ways that our bodies receive input from the outside environment. This information is communicated through specific plant nutrients, like resveratrol found in red grapes, or in the foreign compounds and toxins that pollute the regions where we live.
Through food we can heal. Through food choices, over time—nutrient deficiencies, or surviving off of too many things that aren’t really food—disease can start to form.
Food connects us to the earth.
2. I believe that our bodies are intelligent. Our bodies have evolved mechanisms that can communicate to us what they need–if we listen.
Our taste receptors tell us about the quality of the food we’re consuming. Freshly picked in-season fruits and vegetables taste very different than out-of-season, bland ones. The richness of flavour often corresponds to the richness of the nutrients present in the foods we eat.
We crave animal fat. We crave sugar. We crave salt.
We crave these things because they represent a density of nutrients that our bodies need.
We’re drawn to colours, because colourful foods represented foods that were fresh and ripe and packed with nutrition.
I look at a lot of things in medicine through the lens of evolutionary biology. A lot of people in my field and in science do. I trust that the way my body is formed as a response to an environment that is ever changing.
The humans who were most drawn to ripe, nutrient-dense fruit, or the saltiness of animal protein, or the delicious texture of fat, ate more of these foods. And eating more of these foods gave them an evolutionary advantage, allowing them to survive and pass on their genes to future generations who inherited preferences for these tastes.
Therefore I believe that consuming animal fat and sweet foods and salty foods is not bad.
Craving these foods is not bad. Cravings and taste preference represent a complex chemical system that evolved over hundreds of thousands of years to bring us to the things that helped us thrive.
I actually believe that we should listen to our cravings–they can be quite sophisticated. However, I also believe that:
3. Big Food has highjacked our taste buds.
There is something called “The Dorito Effect” where food companies high-jack these natural drives, these cravings, these taste preferences to get us to eat more frankenfoods. A Cheeto has been engineered to get you to consume the whole bag.
Therefore I don’t think we can trust our cravings when we’re consuming a high amount of “fake” foods–foods grown in a lab, foods made in a plant, foods that have 5+ ingredients that didn’t exist in 1913 or whatever.
How much of these foods is appropriate to eat? I try to minimize my consumption as much as possible. I’m not sure what the right answer is for you. I do know, however that I can’t let my body take the reins on what foods I might be needing if I consume too many of these processed foods.
How do I know I need more carbohydrates when I crave sugar or if my body is just chemically addicted to Sweettarts? I try to satisfy cravings with the whole food version of the thing and I find that that often works create an ongoing, trusting relationship (which takes time) between my taste receptors, the environment, my stomach, my mind, and my cells.
I believe that these relationships can help my body relax and know that it will be fed, like a crying baby who knows its caregiver will respond to its cries.
4. I believe that humans should consume a combination of plants and animals.
This may be a fairly controversial belief.
Of course there are many animal rights activists, vegans and plant-based diet advocates who would tell me that you don’t need animals to be healthy. There are many people who swear the Carnivore Diet cured their autoimmune disease.
And, maybe they’re both right. However, I believe that humans evolved eating some sort of combination of animal and plant foods and that there are distinct nutrients that are rare in plants and others that are rare in animals.
I can’t personally get enough protein on a plant-based diet. And, after eating a diet that is too meat-focused I start to crave salads, whole grains and beans.
High-quality protein, iron, choline, Vitamin D, EPA and DHA (marine omegas), zinc, tryptophan, B12, and other nutrients are hard to get enough of in a plant-based diet while preserving ratios, keeping the body’s hormonal systems (like blood sugar) balanced, and honouring cravings.
5. I don’t necessarily think, however that the Paleo Diet is the best diet.
I don’t think any diet is.
I think in principle Paleo was a cool idea: we humans spent the majority of our time in a hunter and gatherer before food processing and agriculture made things like grains and legumes digestible.
Therefore, like we should feed dogs like wolves, and we should eat like our primal ancestors, as our bodies haven’t evolved fast enough to keep up with high fructose corn syrup, etc.
I agree with the premise. But I also think that there is evidence that grains and legumes were consumed before agriculture, perhaps just not as in high amounts. Our bodies are different from the way they were when we were hunters and gatherers: we have more stress for example and higher complex carbs may help us manage this stress.
Also, animals fats, while good for us evolutionarily now exist inside of the context of an environment that is filled with thousands of chemicals. Animal fat is where chemicals are sequestered and therefore consuming lard, butter, and tallow as the main fats in the diet may not be as good for us anymore.
I’m not sure, but I think we need to appreciate our modern context and consume foods that are relatively unprocessed and well-digested that weren’t necessarily available when we were hunting and gathering our own food.
In essence, I think the research points to the fact that whole gains like oats and buckwheat and legumes like lentils are good for us.
6. Food is social. We don’t make nutrition decisions in a vacuum.
We use food to communicate: I love you, thanks for lending me your Back to the Future DVD set. Sharing food is an important part of our biology, of the human existence.
Humans are social creatures. And our socialness orients around food for a variety of reasons: celebration, socialization of children, peace-making, reward, pleasure, art.
I eat differently depending on who I’m with. I eat differently depending on the foods available at my local grocery store.
When I’m with my ND buddies I eat differently than when I’m with “muggles” or, non-NDs.
Navigating food in the social realm can be difficult–a balancing act between our own internal values around food and our values around connection–not offending someone, for instance.
I have suffered when my food choices didn’t fall into the realm of the society I was living (for example, being a vegan while living in South America) and trying to live with my Nonna, my Italian grandmother, while also learning that gluten was making me sick.
We may have conflicting values about food. But I believe that that’s ok.
I believe certain foods can contribute to inflammation but I also believe that they can help soothe my troubled emotions and overwhelm at times, and that that is anti-inflammatory.
To be honest, I don’t really like wearing socks and shoes–they feel weird on my feet.
I would rather prance around barefoot as the bonafide urban-dwelling earth-child I know myself to be deep down. But, I’m aware that we live in a world where the ground is sharp, and cold.
Sometimes it’s not safe, or socially acceptable to walk around barefoot.
And so I don’t. Because even though I love being barefoot, I can’t always do it. It’s not always appropriate.
And so it is with eating ice cream. Sometimes you’re trying to avoid it, but other times it’s appropriate to have some.
Under certain circumstances, eating ice cream might be the healthier choice.
7. Food obsession and shame have no place in health.
Of course eating well can bring is closer to health. However, steer the ship slowly. Be patient with yourself. Be curious about the process and learn to pay attention.
8. Embodiment is the key to bringing us back to nature and understanding our relationship with food again.
Sometimes we need help with our relationship with food.
Sometimes we need to unwind the years of food shame and diet culture to figure out what we even like, let alone what’s good for us.
I sometimes tell patients to have protein every time they crave something.
Just try it. See what happens.
Sometimes a craving for salty snacks means you need protein. It doesn’t mean it’s bad to satisfy a salty craving with popcorn, but if you do how do you feel? Is the salty craving gone?
Sometimes cravings for carbs and salt is the body asking for more protein. And then, in that case, it might be better to try having some protein. Just like sometimes you’re tired and food can help but so can a nap and a nap might help more.
It’s a process that involves trying things, from a place of curiosity, not judgement. And paying attention to how you feel.
If someone asks you for directions to a coffee shop in a language you don’t understand, and so, trying to be helpful you send them to a greenhouse.
They’ll love the greenhouse, you think. It’s beautiful there. And it is a beautiful place. But, they actually wanted a coffee and a piece of pie. And your intentions were pure. You were trying to help, trying to listen.
You just didn’t speak the language.
So I tell patients, have protein when you experience cravings and that might help you get enough protein.
Cravings aren’t bad. They’re essential. They’re a language.
Feeling stuffed isn’t bad. It’s another language. So is hunger. Hunger, satiation, cravings, mind-hunger, feeling stuffed to the gills, are all important syntax in the language your body uses to talk to you, to tell you how to feed it.
It’s hard to listen in a room full of shame, so it can take time to learn.
The Mood Diet a 39-page resource on how to eat for your mental and emotional health.
How can we eat to reduce inflammation, optimize the microbiome and support neurotransmitter synthesis to boost energy and support optimal mood? The Mood Diet offers 12 science-backed recipes, a shopping list and lots of information on how to use food to support your mood.
“I was born with an imbalance in my brain,” my patient explains to me, “The medication corrects it—Since I started taking Cipralex, I wake up feeling like a normal person again.”
It is estimated that about 10% of adults in North America are taking a medication to help them cope with anxiety and depression. Many people swear by these substances, others claim that they worsen depression, cause uncomfortable side effects and fail to treat the root cause of symptoms, numbing us to the experience and cause of our emotional pain and physical symptoms. The reality is, however, that prescriptions for these medications is increasing.
What are anti-depressants?
Most anti-depressant medication falls into the pharmaceutical category of SSRI, or Selective-Serotonin Re-uptake Inhibitors, like Prozac or Cipralex. These medications prevent the body from mopping up the “happy hormone”, serotonin, in the brain, making its feel-good effects last longer. The result is thought to be more serotonin in the brain and, therefore, increased feelings of happiness and euphoria. Other drugs work on preventing the re-uptake of other neurotransmitters, brain chemicals dopamine and norepinephrine, which also cause feelings of happiness, pleasure and reward, and give us energy.
The Monoamine Theory of Depression:
The leading theory of depression for decades, the Monoamine Theory, states that in people who suffer from depression, there is an imbalance in serotonin production and signalling in the brain—a “serotonin deficiency”—which SSRI medication corrects. Because this is how anti-depressant medication works, this has taken over as the prevailing theory of depression. However, there has never been a published study that proves that people who suffer from depression or anxiety have issues with brain serotonin production or metabolism. It almost seems that pharmaceutical companies have “reasoned backwards” creating a theory in order to support anti-depressant use.
As patients, we want to believe that the medicine our doctors give us is just that, medicine—something that treats the root cause of disease and makes us healthier, rather than covering up our symptoms while the underlying problem continues to worsen. However, most medications don’t work that way. While Advil may alleviate a headache, we intuitively know that our headache was not caused by an Advil deficiency. Likewise, alcohol may calm down those plagued by social anxiety, but we know that alcohol isn’t a cure for social anxiety; it is a drug that can temporarily help symptoms and relying on it will only cause further health problems down the line. We know that for most health conditions, while a drug may help temporarily, something else is going on inside our bodies that warrants attention.
While the percentage of people who are medicated for depression has increased in recent years, the rate of disability from mental health conditions is steadily on the rise. This is perplexing, especially if these drugs are doing what they’re “supposed to”, which is curing a brain chemical imbalance. Shouldn’t medicating patients with depression result in a cure, or at least a declining rate of disability for mental health concerns? Clearly, something else is going on.
Harnessing the Placebo Effect:
Many patients report the fact that anti-depressant medications saved their lives, radically turning around serious and debilitating symptoms. I’ve heard quite a few stories from individuals who couldn’t get out of bed until they found the right SSRI for their body.
The data shows that SSRI medication has the ability to reduce depressive symptoms by 30% in individuals, a modest reduction at best, but still significant. But, do these medications work as well as the studies claim? A glance at the entire body of research casts doubt on the efficacy of anti-depressant medication:
Firstly, there is a large body of unpublished negative studies. This means that studies that show there is no difference in anti-depressant medication and placebo is left out of the body of literature, favouring a bias for positive publications, publications that find anti-depressants work. Medical research draws conclusions by producing studies over and over again. When the results of several studies are combined, doctors and researchers are able to draw conclusions about whether a medication works or not. When only positive research is published, without negative research to balance it out, it casts medications in a favourable light that they may not necessarily deserve. This is an unfortunate phenomenon in medical science as a whole, and often skews the evidence in favour of drugs that may not be as effective as we hope.
Secondly, the gold standard for evidence, the Randomized Control Trial (RCT) may have design flaws due to the nature of the medications being tested. In RCTs, patients are randomized into two groups. One group is given placebo and the other the active drug that is being tested. The subjects and the people evaluating them are both blinded—neither knows which group is given the drug and which is given the placebo. This reduces the possibility of bias in reporting and observing the effects of the medication. The idea is because an inert pill, or “placebo” may be able to exert the effects of a drug, providing about 30% benefit, according to some sources. However, when patients who are in the active group experience side effects of the medication: gastric symptoms, nausea, headaches, altered sleep and appetite, they quickly become alert to the that fact that they are in the medication group, leaving room for the placebo effect to occur. This is termed the “Active Placebo Effect”. When SSRIs are compared with active placebos—placebos that don’t act as medicine but produce the same side effects—we found their effects rapidly diminished, perhaps because the placebo effect was not taking effect anymore.
What about the people who SSRIs help?
To cast doubt on the efficacy of anti-depressants does not in any way invalidate those who have felt the medications helped them. Every body is different and I believe that it is not for us to say how someone should or shouldn’t be reacting to a medication or therapy. The mysteries of our bodies are vast and there is only so much that we’re aware of in the world of medicine and health. Furthermore, the placebo effect, while often being used to dismiss therapies (“oh, it’s probably just a placebo effect”) should really be viewed as an amazing miracle of medicine and evidence of how powerful our bodies and minds are. The placebo effect shows us that, according to our beliefs, we have the power to heal ourselves. We believe that we’re getting treatment, we believe the treatment will help us, and the very nature of those beliefs heals our physical bodies.
This does not mean that the people who were suffering before taking the medication were “faking it” or should have been able to just snap out of it—that’s not how the placebo effect works. The placebo effect is based on changing our beliefs, which, as you may know, is not something we can simply will ourselves to do. However, the fact that our beliefs hold this kind of healing power, I find, frankly, is amazing. The placebo effect shows us evidence of an almost magical ability of the mind-body connection to heal ourselves, without side effects, and I believe it is something that we should harness and celebrate.
What’s the problem, then?
While anti-depressants may be harnessing the placebo effect to help individuals heal, there are downsides to them as well.
Firstly, SSRI medications have a long list of side effects, from weight gain and fatigue to sexual dysfunction and vitamin deficiencies, being on these medications over the long-term can be unpleasant for some and seriously affect quality of life for others.
Secondly, anti-depressant medications are notoriously difficult to get off of. I have assisted many patients in getting off their medication, with the help of their medical team, but it’s never easy and must always be done slowly and responsibly. Getting off medication involves a slow wean over months with support of natural therapies, psychotherapy and lifestyle changes. Because these drugs force the brain to adapt, causing a very real chemical imbalance, oftentimes the withdrawal effects are so intolerable that patients are not able to come off.
Most patients who decide to try anti-depressant medications are not aware how difficult it will be to stop taking the medication, if they should eventually choose to do so. This is unfortunate, as I believe that full informed consent should be applied to patients so that they may make appropriate decisions about their health—patients should be made aware that they are expected to stay on the medication for life and that weaning will be very difficult and, in some cases, not possible.
Finally, there is a growing body of evidence showing that patients who do not receive medication, but other forms of help such as diet and lifestyle changes, psychotherapy and stress management, do better, have higher rates of remission and less relapse than those who are medicated. As we see with the studies that show that more medication is correlated with more disability from mental health concerns, it is possible that medicating depression is only worsening the problem for most people.
So, what causes anxiety and depression?
Scientists and clinicians are not sure what the cause of depression is. However, the Cytokine Theory of Depression and the Gut-Brain Connection are two areas that are gaining increasing interest from researchers. These theories state that depression may be a cause of inflammation in the body that affects the brain, and that imbalances in gut health, especially with gut bacteria may offset mental health, respectively. Naturopathic doctors also notice a clinical correlation between burnout or “adrenal fatigue” and mental health symptoms.
Healing the mind and body, however, starts with creating a therapeutic relationship with a professional that you trust. After that, I find that healing the gut, correcting inflammation and nutrient deficiencies while addressing harmful core beliefs and stress can have wonderful results for healing depression and anxiety.
Depression is a symptom:
Psychiatry would have us believe that depression and anxiety are conditions that we are born with. Conventional medicine states that perhaps we have a familiar tendency to develop these conditions, perhaps we’ve had them since childhood, but, and in this case it is clear, depression and anxiety are not things that you heal from; they are things you simply manage.
I disagree. I don’t believe that depression and anxiety stand on their own as diseases, but symptoms of a deeper imbalance. Like any symptom, I believe mental health concerns are trying to tell us something. Our bodies have no other way of communicating with us other than through the symptoms they produce: lack of motivation, sore muscles, bloating and diarrhea, headache, joint pain, brain fog, fatigue and so on. As naturopathic doctors, we are trained to listen, not just to our patients, but the messages their bodies are signalling to us through symptoms.
This means that, when I start seeing a patient with depression, whether they are on medication or not, we develop a full work-up, asking in-depth questions about sleep, diet, exercise, digestion, mental status, mood, energy, reproductive health and so on. I connect these symptoms together to find out what is going on beyond what may be immediately visible.
Depression and anxiety often have a root cause. The cause may be stress, childhood trauma, leaky gut, adrenal fatigue, inflammation or even medication and drug use itself. Through uncovering the root of the issue, we are able to treat it, helping the body restore itself to balance and health.
My philosophy of healing is that, sometimes, illness can be a gift, especially if it encourages us to delve deep into our lives and values and make the necessary changes for healing ourselves. Sometimes depression and mental health challenges can be the beginning of a grand and fulfilling journey where we learn to connect more deeply to our bodies, discover our life purpose and a greater sense of happiness and life satisfaction.
I’m tucking away at the cake again because the people who’ve invited me for dinner have dessert. Dessert: the gluten-y, sugar-y, dough-y sweetness of relief from deprivation, the dopamine and serotonin rush when the food smashes against my lips, teeth and tongue and gets swallowed, in massive globs, into my stomach. The desire for more smashes maddeningly around my skull. Getting the next fix is all I can think about. I reach for another slice when no one is looking. I guess some people call this binging, a complete loss of control around “forbidden” foods. All I care about is devouring another bite, and feeling the euphoric blood sugar rush that flushes me with giddiness and good feelings before the shame sets in.
One I’ve begun to indulge, however, the voice demanding more exits stage left and is replaced with a little gremlin who fills my head with sneering and loathsome disparagement. It doesn’t speak in whole sentences, but rather in snippets, sentence fragments and hateful keywords. Sugarrr…. it hisses, gluten, bloating… FAT! Ugly, worthless…No control, no willpower, useless… failure…FAT! Not that the cake contains fat, but fat is what I will become when I allow the cake to become a part of me, the little evil voice suggests. Sometimes I can temporarily drown out his voice by eating more cake, which only makes him louder once all the cake is gone or my stomach groans with fullness.
I’ve come to realize that this cycle can be set off with feelings of boredom, anxiety and, most of all, hunger. A low-calorie diet, detox or a period of controlled eating leaves me susceptible to these binge lapses. It’s taken me the better part of 30 years to figure that out. However, stress can also send me to the pantry, digging out whatever sugary treats I can find. And so the cycle of loss of control followed by self-loathing begins.
The next day, or even within the next few hours, I feel fat.
Fat feels a certain way to me. It feels physical: puffy, bloated and sick. Most of all, it feels like I’ve done something wrong, that I am wrong. It brings with it feelings of lethargy and heaviness, not the light, perkiness I associate with health and femininity. I feel gross, unworthy of good things: attention, love, affection. I feel like I’ve failed. I feel like I’ve lost control of myself. For, if I can’t even control when I shove in my mouth, how can I have power over anything else in life?
However, a person can’t really feel fat. I mean, especially not after only a day of overeating.
And besides, fat is not a feeling.
Perhaps fat was a stand-in feeling for other difficult emotions my childhood brain couldn’t fully comprehend. Like the time I wrote in my diary, at the age of 8 years old, That’s it, I’m fat, I’m going on a diet. From now on, I’m only eating sandwiches. Funny and touching, but also sad, I wonder what 8-year-old me was really feeling when she claimed to feel “fat”. Perhaps she felt helpless, out of control, different from the herd and hopeless about fitting in.
If I pause to peer below the surface of “fat”, I find other words or cognitive connections that underlie it. When I feel “fat” I also feel out of control, worthless, lonely, like a failure. I sometimes feel sad and anxious. Sometimes I simply feel full, like I’ve fed myself, and as I’ve often heard repeated, “It’s important to leave a meal feeling a little bit hungry”, the feeling of being fed can induce feelings of guilt.
Everywhere we look, the media equates “healthy” with thin, glistening bodies. Fitness models with amenorrheic abs, bounce back and forth on splayed legs in front of a full make-up, costume, lighting and camera team to simulate the image of running through a field. “Losing weight” equals “getting fit” equals “being healthy”. As a society we’ve failed to ask ourselves what “health” might mean and instead deliver the whole concept over to impossible standards of beauty, making “health” as unachievable as the stringy bodies that represent it. While I intellectually know that this isn’t the case, that health comes in all sizes—and may actually hover around “plus” sizes, in actual fact—restriction has been imprinted in my brain as a sign of healthy self-control.
But, maybe the definition of health needs to come from digging within and asking the question What does health mean to you? Perhaps the body knows more than the marketing media does about what it needs for health. Maybe, just sometimes, it needs cake to be healthy. Maybe even the act of overindulgence is healthy sometimes.
Perhaps if I give my body enough of the healthy food and fuel it needs, it won’t go crazy the next time it sees cake. When we try to murder ourselves by holding our breath to stop our breathing, we pass out. The body deems us too irresponsible to control the precious task of breathing and so it turns the lights out on conscious breath control. Our very own physiology doesn’t trust our conscious thought if we abuse it. So, when I force my body to survive and thrive on restrictions, self-hate and negative talk, perhaps it induces a binge. Maybe I binge to survive. Or maybe my body loves cake as much as I do.
Instead of feeling like a failure, because I didn’t win the fight against my body, perhaps I should respectfully hand it back the reins and tell it, with my conscious mind, “I trust you, I respect you, I’ll listen to you more carefully from now on.”
And, like Marie Antoinette once granted her people, I can grant my body permission, and let it eat cake.
“Perhaps it is true that we do not really exist until there is someone there to see us existing, we cannot properly speak until there is someone who can understand. What we are saying, in essence – we are not wholly alive until we are loved.”
― Alain de Botton, On Love
