'Wow! Imagine how much weight I would have lost if my thyroid was normal' versus 'I don't want to waste my life.'

'Wow! Imagine how much weight I would have lost if my thyroid was normal!' Really. That was the first thing I could think of when the latest blood draw showed that, despite my taking replacement hormone for the past four months, my T3 levels have dropped again and are now close to 70 points off the bottom of the charts. I've only been losing weight anyway because I've been sick - and since I've been too fatigued to exercise much, inevitably some of it has been erosion of that hard-won muscle mass that's always been so for me difficult to build.

And yet the thought is so seductive - if my thyroid was right, I could be ten pounds lighter still. I'm annoyed that I thought this in the first place, but even more frustrated that the thought has such a fascinating hold, that a big part of me really does seem to think it. Thyroid is messed up in the first place because I starved myself so much, and now all I can think about is starving some more.

I'm sure some would say 'just change channel, refocus, get over it,' but the hold of this particular demon has a tenacity that doesn't admit such a simple release. And as I enjoy the comfortingly familiar feeling of my exposed bones, over my other shoulder the naturopath is saying that part of getting everything that is out of whack back into whack will have to include putting some lean muscle - yes, and fat too - i.e. weight - back onto my whittled form.

It's not 'in one ear and out the other:' it's more as though one ear can hear this and accept it as sensible, while the other is like some diabolical echo chamber and hears it as a sentence of doom.

On the other hand (we've got quite the bilateral bipolar two-by-two body parts going here!) the naturopath expressed some surprise that I even came back to him: he'd half expected me to turn tail when he initially said all that about needing to quit cleansing and purging and rebuild instead. I heard myself saying in response 'but I don't want to waste my life!'

Part of me feels like I already have, at times. But I'm only just 33, and if I can get out of this cycle of clawing back some strength and groundedness and then crucifying myself on it, crashing a little lower every time, then there is so much time left and so much to do! It's ironic - all those years I longed to die, and now have so much awareness of valuable aspects of life, not to mention enjoyment, but a limping thyroid makes the zombie impression very easy to accomplish!

Especially with Phil's love and support, I have so much to play for right now. And I'm gradually positioning myself as writer/translator/editor, showing my poetry to more people, getting uniformly positive feedback… Phil is waiting for me to be in shape to join him in more arduous adventures in the great outdoors! I suspect that my 'outdoors' will never be quite as 'great' as his - partly because it's hubris to imagine (as I did once) that I could ever possibly have the level of strength and stamina to go as far as he does (as he's often told me: _no one_ goes as far as him): but partly, too, because my inward horizons are so rich and engaging that there is much to keep me in those closer waters. Nonetheless, one of the things that brings us together is a shared delight in explorations, both inner and outer, and if I occasionally play Beatrix to him in explorations of inward matters, he is undoubtedly the most accomplished, doughty and fun outdoor adventure partner that anyone could possibly wish for (as long as I don't try to keep up with him!)

I started a different thyroid hormone from the naturopath today, and already seem to be feeling a little less draggy - made mead, made bread, ground breadcrumbs, made two kinds of pesto, cleaned the water filter, did a _ton_ of translation, wrote, talked to my mom (who said 'if your energy is better, for goodness sake conserve some of it!) lol…