The Diagnosis

Three weeks ago, I got a call from my doctor.

I was expecting this call, and could not wait to hear of my diagnosis.

Let's back up a bit, to June of 2017. I was feeling run-down, tired, and had gained 15-20 pounds in a year. While the weight gain could be attributed to other factors, I had gotten to the point where I could barely get out of bed I was so tired.

This (among other things) led me to quit my 8-5 job. I thought things might get better after I quit, since I was commuting an hour to and from work every day.
This is how tired I looked on a daily basis.
The thing is - things did not improve.

I almost felt worse after quitting than I did while working/commuting 50-60 hours a week. I felt just as tired, and lacked any sort of motivation whatsoever, despite not really having any absolute obligations on a daily basis, as I only had a couple of freelance clients to worry about. In addition to this, I felt more anxious than I had ever felt in a long time. I felt anxious about not doing enough with my time off! I felt anxious that I should not have quit my full time job! I felt anxious if I didn't manage to get over 10,000 steps even though I was absolutely exhausted all the time.

I thought to myself-- what gives!

So, after months of feeling run down, I finally went to the doctor to get tested for Hashimotos Thyroiditis. My mom has this disorder, and I knew this had to be what I have, particularly in the hypoactive stage. The weight gain, the fatigue, everything.

Well, the doctor called.

I had a hyperactive thyroid.

WHAT?!

I felt like a total failure. Most people lose weight when their thyroid is overactive, and I managed to gain 15+ pounds! 
Then came the anxiety again...
What if I gain even more weight now?! Why am I such a fatass? What if I feel even more lethargic! Why couldn't I have at least lost weight like everyone else if I am going to have a disorder!

I walked my anxious ass over to the pharmacy and filled up my prescription, and start taking it the next day.

Within honestly a week, I started to feel a little better. I wasn't hungry all the time, I had very manageable cravings for sweets (as opposed to raging ones), and I didn't feel like laying in bed until 10 AM.

The biggest change came when I went on a hike last week. Lately, when I went on hikes, instead of my usual "wow, I am in bad shape, I need to go to the gym more," I felt more like "oh my god, am I done hiking yet? How have I only walked 2500 steps? Why does my back hurt?". Well, when I climbed up Monkey Face, I felt a little winded, but good. I thought to myself, oh... this is what I am supposed to feel like. I didn't let myself go, nor do I have some sort of moral failing. I was really, really sick and untreated.

The kinks of my medication will probably take around 6 months to work out, so I will continue to write about them. For now, I could care less about weight gain, I don't think it will happen, but if it does, I would rather gain a few more pounds and be able to get out of bed in the morning.

For now, I will be working my part-time gigs, applying for some full-time jobs, and, most importantly, relaxing. I cannot begin to express my gratitude for the opportunity to do so.

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