Not having a good thyroid-fibromyalgia-hashimoto’s thyroiditis day. That’s the thing with these stupid chronic, auto-immune, thyroid diseases, you can feel great one day and like crappy crackers the next. I knew it, I jinxed myself with that Pollyanna positive post a few days ago. I am aching all over, and for once, I even made an effort to go outside to do an errand instead of surrendering to my soft pink fleece blanket and baby blue down comforter that were inviting me to stay in bed. I’m back in there now, its night-time and I just pulled on my old mint green night-shirt, from Victoria’s Secret, (so huge and not sexy) that has snowflakes on it and I’m cranky. I posted a comment on a website before where other people were moaning and groaning about how they felt and I just joined in with them because sometimes you need a break. They understood how I was feeling and that is exactly what I wanted.
Did it cure my aches and pains? No. Did it make my sluggishness disappear? Of course not. Will it banish my throbbing headache? No. But, it gave me an outlet just like this, to vent because sometimes that’s all you have left. I am here with a spouse who is watching football downstairs and who does NOT HEAR me, our kids are in college drinking beer and cheap vodka, old friends have deserted us, and we are getting older by the minute.
I’m feeling lonely or alone, maybe both and the only things keeping me company now are the tears welling up in my eyes and my dog. I’m tired but I know, feeling this way, I couldn’t fall asleep and it’s too damn early anyway, it’s not even 9:00 PM. I’d be up cruising my little cottage at 2:00AM if I went to bed now. I’m just in a funk, maybe I’m having a pity party, that’s alright too. I don’t know and I don’t care. It will, most probably, only last a few hours so I will soothe myself with music, darn, I wish I liked wine but I hate it, beer too. I don’t want to go on a food binge, that got me into deep trouble the other night, it was not pretty. All I can say is: Baked Lays (sour cream and onion) Jarlsberg cheese and crackers, toast with butter and honey, a Ring Ding, canned pears in heavy syrup and that’s all after dinner. It was not a pretty sight.
No more eating, no more eyes tearing, still have a headache and my face feels like a sledgehammer has taken up residence in my brain. Things don’t stay the same, it will get better or it will get worse. I really don’t know which way it will go. 50/50 at best. Hey, we all have these days and nights, we have no choice. If we didn’t have the bad, I guess we wouldn’t appreciate the good, at least that’s what I’ve heard.