Comments Closed Because I Don’t Want You To Feel Obligated to Say Nice Things to Me.

It’s a beautiful day today.
The sun is shining brightly. It’s warm with just a hint of cool air.
I decided to take Gabby out for a little trip to Target since the puking has seemed to stop. I put on my gray track suit, in spite of the warm weather, because again, that’s the only thing that fits me.
As I pulled my hair back, I could see patches of my scalp due to the thinning hair.
As I put my makeup on, I could see the acne that has invaded my jawline and chin. I could see the one damn droopy eye. The dry, flaky skin. The puffy, dark circles under my eyes.
In all honesty, I don’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore. This “condition” has wreaked havoc on my body.
In the past week, I’ve had more than one person not recognize my voice when I’ve answered the phone. Because it’s not enough that I’m fat, puffy, dry, bald, zitfaced and DROOPY EYED, I have to have Man Voice. (due to the “enlarged thyroid.)
I HAVE MAN VOICE, PEOPLE.
As I walked through Target, I noticed how great all of the other moms looked. A saw one group of moms in particular who had stopped to chit chat. Each one of them were dressed extremely well, with cute hair cuts and pretty fingernails. They were all smiling and laughing and talking about “That one time they were at so and so’s house and ha ha! Isn’t she hilarious after having a glass of wine?”
As I watched them laugh and connect with each other, I felt overwhelmed with a sense of sadness.
I used to be like those women. I used to wear cute little outfits. I used to have friends that I would go out and do things with. I used to love being out in the world interacting with people.
These days, I feel like an outsider, watching everyone else live their lives. I’ve made the CHOICE to be an outsider. Because I have nothing to offer right now– I’m emotionally, physically and spiritually bankrupt.
I feel so alone. I feel so sad. So Ugly. So Tired.
So puffy. My GOD, I am puffy.
As I was making breakfast the other morning, I turned to my husband and said (in my Man Voice) “You know, this thyroid thing has changed me. I don’t feel like the same person. I don’t look like the same person. And I hate it.”
I’m having a really hard time coming to terms with the new state of my health. I know it’s not the end of the world (At least you don’t have cancer, bitch!) I know there are worse things, I do. But– I don’t know how to except that THIS IS MY LIFE now.
I know it will get better, but will I ever be the same? Will I ever want to stop hiding from the world and make friends again. Will I ever stopped being ashamed of myself? Will I ever feel inspired again? Will I ever have the energy to go to Aerobic Dance Class again? Will I ever stop waking up in the middle of the night thinking that “OMG! I’M DYING! MY HEART IS NOT BEATING!”
I sent a message to my doctor 2 weeks ago to ask him to PLEASE IN THE NAME OF JESUS refer me to a endocrinologist, but I have yet to hear back from him. I don’t know how much more I can take of feeling this way.
I keep telling myself to SNAP OUT OF THIS. I keep going to bed with every intention of working out first thing in the morning! But then the morning comes and The Tired overwhelms me. And then I feel horrible about myself for not being stronger than The Tired! For giving into my laziness. For being such a wimp about all of this.
I’m really sorry about this. I’m sorry that I’m still talking about it. I’m sorry that I haven’t figured out an effective way to deal with this. I’m sorry that my husband and my children have to put up with me every day of their life. I’m sorry that I’m being such a big fucking baby about it all.
But mostly, I’m sorry that there’s a big, beautiful world out there and I’m sitting here in my fucking tracksuit crying again.
(I really meant it when I said comments closed, but because my brain doesn’t work right these days, I forgot to close them. Whoops.)

4 thoughts on “Comments Closed Because I Don’t Want You To Feel Obligated to Say Nice Things to Me.

  1. kris

    I just found your site today and was immediately drawn in, this is the first post I read. I’m baffled that you’re not seeing an endocrinologist already and I hope you continue to bang on that door and advocate for yourself, or find another primary MD. I won’t shower you with sympathy cuz i know you don’t want that, but I know that feeling so well, that feeling of not recognizing yourself in the mirror, of seeing others active in a world you feel you’ve abandoned…

  2. Mandi

    Y, I honestly know exactly how you feel. I know you don’t want anyone to feel like they neeeed to say the right things. To say nice things. But honestly, people want to say nice things. I know I do! I don’t have the kind of health problems that you do but I do live my life as an outsider. I have such self-loathing that I can’t stand to look in the mirror. If my husband says I’m beautiful, I scoff. I don’t believe a word he says. I am fat, frumpy and lonely. I have never looked like those beautiful moms all put together and stylish. I am ashamed of what I look like. I see a very ugly woman in the mirror. When I see other women post pics of themselves, it always (always) astonishes me that they feel so free to put themselves out there. I can not. I can’t even keep pics of myself on my camera. I delete them 90% of the time. I only keep a few because my husband gets so upset that am always deleting them!
    So I stay home all of the time. If I go out, I know I am ugly and not stylish in the least. I am ashamed. Always. And I don’t have any of the reasons you do for feeling bad (medical issues).
    I hurt for you sweetie. I hope more than anything that you are able to find the right dosage of meds that will bring your body back to ‘normal’. And please don’t feel like anyone who comments does so out of a feeling of obligation!! People genuinely like you! Your readers feel your pain and only want to tell you how much they care. Your comment section is a testament to how highly people think of you. Because you really are such an awesome person!!!
    {{{{Hugs}}}}

  3. Kyla

    Oh Y. I’m sorry, dear.
    But remember, blogs are cheap therapy and if people don’t like it they can always click away. Don’t apologize for talking about this stuff. God, my blog is like KayTar central, ya know?

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