You'll forgive me for being so blaaaaahhh lately. It's been in the 100s every day this week, and it's supposedly autumn. Plus, the breach in the threadbare inner-thigh-area of my last pair of jeans finally gave way on Saturday, and I was forced to call in reinforcements. The trek to the fat lady store at the mall was one I most definitely did not enjoy. Not only that, but since I was in dire straits, I didn't have time to wait for a sale, so I had to pay full stinkin' price for fat jeans, and that's NEVER a happy thing. Why do they build fat jeans with low-rise waists, anyway? WHY? And lycra? Why would I want lycra in my jeans? It's not like I WANT the whole world to be able to see how the jeans are having to stretch with all their might across the vast expanse that is my butt, thank you very much.
I've been in a mood lately, it hasn't been a pretty one. I haven't been able to pinpoint why, but I've felt frustrated, unfulfilled, and at odds with people that I love. Normally energetic, I've been lathargic and apathetic. I'm behind my deadline on three jobs, but I haven't cared enough to do much about it. I haven't scrapped my own photos in weeks. I'm not doing my Bible Study homework, and I don't even care. I don't log on to IM much, 'cause mostly I don't feel like chatting, even though it's something I used to enjoy immensely. In the mornings, the boys have to actually beg for breakfast before I finally shuffle in and slap some peanut butter on toast for them. When they want a drink, I can't even bother to get up and get it. "Bring me your cup and the juice," I say. They don't even ask anymore... they just bring me the necessary items when they're thirsty. My used-to-be 24/7 libido has vanished. I hate to go to bed, but then I hate to get up in the mornings. I've noticed that I don't open the curtains anymore, and I often don't get dressed unless I'm expecting company. Last week, I actually drove to pick up Dani from school in a ratty gown with a pair of sweats underneath...no bra. (!!!!!) The boys were in the backseat in their underwear. At church, sometimes I can't bring myself to sing. At home, I can't stand for there to be noise. I don't want the TV on, or the radio. I get pissed when the phone rings. When the mail comes crashing through the mail slot in the front door, I sit and stare at it, but I can't muster up the energy to walk the 20 feet to see what came. I haven't sent thank you notes for scrapbook ministry donations in a long time. I can't be bothered to answer emails, even from people offering to send me scrapbook supplies, and even from friends I enjoy hearing from, and even from my sister-in-law who wants to know what I want for Christmas. I'm either hot or cold with the kids... either they're making me so crazy that I scream at them to get out of the room, or I ignore them completely.
Are you afraid?
Are you surprised?
I've been hiding it pretty well.
The golf-ball-sized lump on my neck (enlarged thyroid... "goiter"... OH how I hate that word) is now closer to the size of a tennis ball. I haven't taken my Synthroid. A prescription of 30 pills, prescribed and filled November 4th of last year, still has 9 pills in it. Tonight, I took one. Tomorrow, I will take another. Thursday, I will take another. I was first diagnosed with this disorder 3 years ago. I've never treated it, despite my doctor lecturing me, despite Darren begging me, despite my friends nagging me.
And now it's come to this. I'm tired of pretending that the white elephant in this room isn't here. I'm sick, and I'm only gonna get sicker if I don't start being proactive about it. I can be well if I'll only take the pills. Why is that so bleepin' HARD for me to do??? I know the answer, but it's not one I wish to put in black and white.
I want to be normal again, I do. I want to be FUN again. I want to enjoy my kids, not just tolerate them. I want to feel like showering and getting dressed and actually putting on make-up. I want to enjoy my work again, and I want to sing again. When I get invited some place, I want to WANT to go. I want to pull myself up by the bootstraps and be me again. Tonight was the turning point. In the space of 6 hours, I saw me for who I have become, saw how to correct the path, and saw who I want to be. I'll start by taking the stupid Synthroid.
And besides...if I don't, Kristi said she won't feel sorry for me when I have a cantelope hanging off my neck. That was advice worth listening to.
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8 comments:
I'll take my mineral oil if you'll take your synthroid. :(
BLEAH.
Stace, I wanted you to know that ever since our talk many moons ago at the pancake house, I have prayed to God that you would "desire to be made whole". Your blog entry is a testament to the prayers of those who love you. Don't be discouraged...as a famous preacher once said, "Friday is here, but Sunday is coming!" Your "Friday" may mean leaving at the cross and dying to the things that have kept you from taking your pills or dealing with the hurt and guilt of your past. In doing so, you will be made whole and on that "Sunday" you will sing with all your heart. When I was "in the belly
of the whale", God gave me Psalm 130 to read. maybe it will be an encouragement to you...Dear Father, we know that you care even for the sparrow and the lilies of the field. I pray that Stacy doesn't feel alone in her battle against the things that have held her captive so long. In you Lord, she is a new creation. In the name of Your son, Amen.
Aw, Stace. I sensed you weren't yourself, but couldn't pinpoint why. I'm glad it's something easily improved. Hugs and prayers,
Sue
Every time you get all pissy about that Synthroid you can do two things....
One.... think "damn glad I ain't takin' mineral oil like Elaine!"
and...
Two.... Call Normy and say "I took MY Synthroid, did you take YOURS?" And he'll say.... oh, should get a refill on that....
Come chat...we'll make you pee your brand new lycra enhanced jeans!
Oh my girl, you need to get in the "habit" of taking that medication. Please don't waste away any more of your precious time *Ü*
Deb ~PPD~
I am your constant companion.
I am your greatest helper or your heaviest burden.
I will push you onward or drag you down to failure.
I am completely at your command.
Half the things you do, you might just as well turn over to me,
And I will be able to do them quickly and correctly.
I am easily managed; you must merely be firm with me.
Show me exactly how you want something done,
And after a few lessons I will do it automatically.
I am the servant of all great men.
And, alas, of all failures as well.
Those who are great, I have made great.
Those who are failures, I have made failures.
I am not a machine, though I work with all the precision of a machine.
Plus, the intelligence of a man.
You may run me for profit, or run me for ruin;
It makes no difference to me.
Take me, train me, be firm with me
And I will put the world at your feet.
Be easy with me, and I will destroy you.
Who am I?
I am HABIT!
Awwww {{Stacy}}
I've been thinking about you since I first read your post. Trying to come up with something clever and useful to say. Sadly, I can't. You know what you need to do. Take your meds. Get out of the house! After you drop the boys off, take a walk around your neighborhood. Walk with a purpose, breathe deep, and take in your surroundings. Make a list of things you need to do that you can go home and check off your list - the little things that are nagging, yet need to be done and would only take 10 minutes if you got in there and did it. Work on your own albums today, then your job albums tomorrow.
Be kind to your self. Hug your family. TAKE THAT FRIGGIN SYNTHROID!!! And call Normy to do the same!
xoxoxo
m
Stacy-
You are so blessed to have all of these friends who care so much about you. Count your blessings-all of them. It will give you good reason to take your meds.
Love you!
Stacy
I could have written this. This year I was diagnosed with a thyroid prob. I hate taking meds and now I am on 3! I hate not feeling like myself. Stick with it - I try to remind myself of that joke (short version) about the man in the flood on the roof, waiting for God to save him, when he finally dies and meets God he asks him why didn't you save me and God says, I sent a boat, helicopter (and something else), what more do you want. That is how I have to view taking my meds. God enabled men to have the wisdom to "discover" these meds that address some of the physical thorns he gives us to deal with.
Hang in there!
Nancy
npetercmway
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