I hesitate to write this because my personal posts have caused turmoil in the past. And I don't need, or want, any more turmoil in my life. But it's been so long since I posted anything, I doubt my blog is on anybody's radar anymore.
Safe space.
I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism last week. Actually, I was diagnosed over five years ago, but I stopped taking my medication after a few months (for a variety of reasons), and the medical practice lost my records when they converted to a new computer program shortly thereafter, so we'll call it a "new" diagnosis.
Honestly, my "suspecting" this diagnosis is the only reason I dragged myself back to see my doctor. I have this dream that a magic pill will solve all my problems: overwhelming exhaustion, overwhelming depression, near blindness, inability to lose weight, excessively dry skin, etc.
That's a lot to ask of one tiny pill.
God is the only reason I've made it this far. There is no other explanation. Most days I can barely function (although I always manage to do what needs to be done). Many days I have no will to live (but I always hang on because there are people who count on me).
It's been brutal.
But the depression---that's the killer. Life can be difficult enough. Life raising kids without a support system--and trying to do it right (which is the hard way)---isn't the best place for someone suffering from long-term depression. Stress exacerbates everything to the Nth degree. And if you don't already know, I'm going to let you in on a little secret---kids create stress levels you can't begin to imagine while you're still child-free and innocent. Teenagers can be deadly. Being called "crazy" as a thank-you for giving up the best years of your life to raise your granddaughters doesn't help anything. (And it isn't just the teenagers saying it.) To misquote Carrie Heffernan from an episode of The King of Queens, "I'm hearing 'You're crazy', when I should be hearing, 'I'm sorry.'"
Low self-esteem, low energy levels, low thyroid function---no wonder I feel so, well...low.
But not everything is low. I now have hypertension. Two teenage girls to raise=high blood pressure. And as mentioned above, being called "crazy" by everybody who doesn't get what they want or who pushes my buttons repeatedly until I snap (picture someone in a hurry on an elevator pressing the button over, and over, and over...), well, the elevator isn't the only thing going up.
Surprise! Now the crazy lady might just explode. Literally.
So here we go down this path to wellness...again. Can a tiny white pill really fix this? Do I really care? Does anybody?
I've done all I can do. Now it's up to a little bitty pill. And a great big God.
Monday, November 28, 2016
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