Hypo-insomnia.

Dear reader(s):

Normally I try to use this blog to inform rather than to complain, but right now I feel like complaining a bit, and this is, after all, my blog to do with as I feel. So if you're not interested in the non-factual, feel free to skip this one. My feelings won't be hurt. Actually, I probably won't ever know.

I've listed before what the "official" side effects of hypothyroidism are and what some of mine are specifically. However, being hypo affects everyone differently, and as one descends further and further into hypo-hell issues arise and/or intensify. I have now been hypo longer than I've ever been (I think), and while I've held myself together pretty well thus far I think I'm starting to crack a bit.

The reason I'm still awake, reader(s), is because I'm afraid to fall asleep. I am literally tired pretty much all the time now, and I know I need to rest. But at this point, sleeping has become less like normal sleeping than like falling into a semi-coma. It scares me. I sleep for approximately ten to twelve hours and it's hard for me to wake back up. Once I do wake up, it's hard for me to actually physically get out of bed. Once I'm out of bed, it takes such a long time for me to feel like an actual normal person with semi-reliable brain function that I really don't get very many hours during the day where I can function on a level that resembles anything close to my normal, non-hypo self.

While I can admit that I am often a somewhat lazy person when left to my own devices, I do not like living this way. I'm used to being a) intelligent and b) independent, and right now I feel like a zombie who can barely muster up the energy to actually get anything done on my own. I can barely even read. Anyone who knows me at all knows that I LOVE to read. When I'm hypo, though, my vision is blurry and the words often pulse in and out when I try to focus on them. That includes the words on my computer screen, and it includes the times I write in this blog. There! It just freaking happened! I hate that!

I want my brain back and my life back and my job(s) back and myself back. And I fucking want junk food back! I don't know how much longer I can take this anymore. Even though don't want the PET scan to find weird cancer in weird places in my body because that would be horrible and scary, I also know that the alternative is to keep living like this for another week or two and just thinking about that makes me want to scream.

I am aware of how irrationally short-sighted and crazy that actually sounds. But...well, like I said, me - meds = lack of brain function. So it is what it is.

Anyway. That's the big rant. I apologize if anyone actually read it. I suppose it's coma-time for me now. PET results, as promised, sometime tomorrow (today?).

Psychotically yours,
RG