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I have spent the entire day researching the nuances of the possibly whacked-out HPA axis in my brain, and the sundry naturopathic things I can do to mellow it out. I am doing this to either avoid or prepare for the ultra-expensive bodhisattva outlier. Or I'm going to give up and pay Tony Pantalleresco to provide me with a detailed regimen.
I am an unhappy camper. I have found that my doctor actually DROPPED my hormone dose from the too little the impostors were giving me, and only now has raised me back to where I had started with her. I don't know if this was a clerical error, a braino of mine, or medical villainy, but I have been suffering... a kaleidoscopic kind of suffering where I count each day where there is some measure of liveliness or competence as the miracle of life, only to end up back in the soup entirely too soon thereafter.
It's as though I were one of those little girls' magic wands, clear plastic filled with glitter suspended in oil, that's been jammed down into a hunnert and fitty pounds of hamburger. I'm still in there, for all the good it does, but it takes what feels like eons for me to get the genius out from the wand through the mound of hamburger.
I ran out of the 100mcg thyroid on my trip south a couple days before I was to go in to see my doctor about the lab results. I decided to just take a 75mcg and split another one to get closer to my prescribed dose for those two days, pending what I was sure would be another increase in my dose, but I didn't have my pill splitter, so, fuck it, I just took two 75mcg pills for each of those days. I FELT RADICALLY BETTER. I could talk and think, with other people even. Between that rainbow and those extra 50mcg, I was damn near fully me again. The downside of it has been to realize I have been suffering needlessly since running back to Stinson as refuge from the impostors, for "real help"....
Your brain doesn't hold on to things like what dosage if it's printed on the bottle. Your brain doesn't hold onto ANYTHING for shit. I drink many cups of coffee over the course of a day. 90% of the trips into the kitchen to make a fresh cup are inelegant somehow... mostly spacing on going back in time for it to be still hot after going through the filter, but plenty of times forgetting to put in the filter before I start to throw the coffee into the holder and sundry other dunderheaded misapplications of attention to detail. My IQ is still in here. I can often get it out through my fingers... after a fashion... but I become physically dizzy in a room with too many people in it. I am embarrassed with alarming regularity to find my mouth not articulating what my mind has in mind to say, and this is worsened spectacularly by my lifelong problem shrugging off the weight of what the other thinks of me to make my mouth conform to what will put them straight.
In bliss ninny speak, I'm an indigo, an empath, a healer, a sensitive, clairvoyant. Sometimes, when it is extremely quiet, I can actually HEAR people's thoughts. When it's not quiet, I just know them. Further, I know them better than the ones thinking them and THAT tends to piss them off BIG TIME. So I am at a bad loss. I feel like a lifeless old thing in a print dress and orthotics off in a chair in the corner of the rest home dining room, staring quizzically into her plate.
So I am not in any wise uncertain about the NEED for more thyroid hormone. CONFESSION: I have not been able to force myself to go back down to 100mcg since my disappointment at the doctor's office on Friday. I can't keep it up because I will run out and not have a prescription, but I can't make myself go back to not enough.
This is my excuse for leaving you hanging today. When I'm done listening to a Tony mp3, maybe I can lay off for the day and look into the world for some good things to post for you.
I want to call my doctor's voice mail and ask if I am being euthanized.
Sorry.
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