THYROCIOUS IS NO LONGER AWRY

Reflecting on six-years of sickness, two near death experiences and the loss of my canine son on the precipice of what was intermittent sanity; and still trying to reconcile all of the time I lost, with a full heart because I finally feel like me again, I can write this.

My thyroid has been balanced for two-months, something I haven’t experienced in six-years, six, long, painful, life sucking, years. In the past 60-days, I have felt so much like me and have seen old Katieisms resurface; personality traits that I thought were dead, when really, they were just buried. Alongside old-me, there is a new person emerging with contradictory thoughts in some respects, sure, and in others, striking similarities.

The road ahead is no longer bleak because I see more and more of me emerge on a daily basis. The strength I thought I’d never regain, the hope I thought I’d buried with Louie, the spirit of who I was is beginning to outweigh the pain of the past six-years. And, while I’m still struggling with the loss of time, I am finding my way.

Everything is different because I’m different. I have my mind back, the one thing I could always rely on, but sadly lost during my thybacle. My mind means everything to me, lucidity, clarity of thought, making intellectual decisions, free of thyroid induced paranoia, depression, rage, unrelenting sorrow and a slew of other mental conditions other thyroidians can relate to.

And, of course, there’s my family. I’ve missed them terribly. Though I couldn’t have gotten through this without them, now that I’m sane, I miss them even more. I want to get to know them and spend time with them. I want to know how I affected them and what it was like for them. I’m able to place myself in their shoes and see what it might’ve felt like for them. I’m able to ask them questions about it and listen, even if I don’t like what I hear. Not because I want to punish myself, on the contrary. I want to know what this disease took from them, how it reshaped their lives, how they coped, and I want to be there for them—I can do that now. I wasn’t able to before. This feels like a privilege, not a burden.

Having been reclusive for so long, I’m now reentering my life and figuring out how and where I fit in. Recently it occurred to me that how I reenter is entirely up to me, which is empowering. Sure, my self-esteem is still in the twaloo (toilet), but I’m learning a lot about how I think and feel, I’m also speaking up and disagreeing where I might not have in the past. Though, I’m not sure because I don’t remember everything about who I was. Some of my memories of the past six years are vivid, while others aren’t. I have an incredible mother and sister who remember everything.

Though I’ve had a few medical blips with my kidneys and thEYEbacle, I have an incredible Shrinktail who is really there for me and helps me get through the fear. I’m learning how to interact with doctors. When I’m thrown into what feels like medical chaos, I become so overwhelmed, I lose my footing. This is attributed to the years of medical negligence and mistreatment related to this disease. I digress. I am finding my way.

There is an end and with that, a new beginning. Don’t give up, even when you can’t get out of bed and your thyroid has sucked your mind into an abyss that’s telling you otherwise.