TMI Thursday: the bodily function way I came to peace with my divorce

I dabbled in TMI earlier this week. But now, it's officially TMI Thursday. TMI lends itself extremely well to bodily functions. While today's post is inspired by yesterday's visit to my gastroenterologist, I can assure you it's not too graphic. It is still, definitely, too much information.

I've always had a nervous stomach.  For as long as I can remember, my entire life.

I was the child who hung as close to the restroom as humanly possible before my heat number was called at swim meets.  I always took that last chance to pee before I pulled my tights up and put on a dance costume.  Boat rides, long trips, car pools all were a variation on the same nightmare.  That I would be too far away from a restroom when I desperately needed one.

I've always had a nervous stomach.  It runs in my family.

There was a defining moment, a turning point when I decided to get help.  I was newly engaged and heading from Northern Virginia down to Richmond with my mom for a bridal shower my aunt was throwing for me.  I was so stressed, so nervous, that we stopped at a gas station in the middle of nowhere.  I bought a bottle of pink liquid Pepto Bismol.  And proceeded to chug it straight from the bottle.

I admit that most of it is psychological.  But even so, psychology can affect us biologically.

When I first saw my gastro, the physician's assistant looked at me and asked, How long would you say you've had stress in your life?  To which I replied honestly, I think I've been stressed out my entire life.  Her next question, How long would you say you've been having symptoms?  To which I replied honestly, I think I've been having symptoms my entire life.

My doctor started me on a regimen of medication.  Certain pills to take every night.  Certain pills to take when needed.  And it changed my life.  I no longer feared for a road trip with someone else driving.  Felt prepared for sitting through long events and performances.

But it wasn't perfect.  Traveling was always the hardest.

I had a particularly rough business trip.  I literally didn't have a bowel movement for days.  I was out of town and there wasn't much I could do about it.  When I came home, I resorted to anything and everything.  I went to McDonald's, Taco Bell, ate ice cream straight from the carton, Popeye's fried chicken meal.  And finally, a box of laxatives.  It was a bad night.

Coincidentally to those particular circumstances, I moved out of the house days later.  Only it wasn't exactly coincidental.  My marriage stress literally caused my bowels to tie themselves in knots.

And then.

Then after I had moved out, when I physically should have been at my worst for emotions and lack of sleep, I found peace.

My stomach didn't hurt at all.  At. All.

It took my heart much longer to find peace with my divorce. But my stomach, it knew right away.

I continue to measure relationships by stomach. Literally. Las Vegas, New York, L.A. with Mr. L.A., all the traveling, even in the bitter end, felt right. Let's just say that Musician Boy would, quite literally, hold my hair back while I prayed to a porcelain god, and he was willing to from day one. On the other hand, my stomach didn't sit right in New England; it knew there wouldn't be peace with CouldBe.

I saw my gastroenterologist yesterday for the yearly renewal of my prescription. Something I take each night that relaxes my internal organs. I'm problem free. He called me "a model patient." My whole irritable bowel thing is easy to keep under control. Medicate. And don't fall for the wrong men.

While I've always been a go-with-your-gut kind of girl, it has a deeper meaning to me.