Intense Fatigue in 2020s

Yesterday, I was hit with intense thyroid fatigue, but today I feel a little better. Because I jumped the gun and assumed the lung tightness was from the spray, it really messed things up over the past month. If only levothyroxine were a short-acting drug! That would make everything so much easier. I’ve increased my vitamin D, but I’m cautious about overdoing it too far ahead of lab work. Now, it’s just about finding the right amount. I’m planning to take this particular dose every other day since it’s just a children’s multivitamin. I’ll step it up to daily the week before labs.

Yesterday, I felt so frustrated and even depressed, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me. Just like a car can’t run without gas, people can’t live without energy. It literally drives our bodies and our lives. More and more, I think about ending it if things don’t get better. I’m so damn tired of only having a few good days now and then—really, I am. Each year, I’m being pushed closer to the brink, and there’s only so much more I can take.

A million times I’ve asked myself… Why did I have to get this disease? If I hadn’t, would I have suffered so much over the last decade? Would I have ended up this tired and fat?

Honestly, I can’t help but hope there’s no God because the idea that one would let this happen, then do absolutely nothing to help, is frightening. If there is a God up there allowing this or actively making it happen, it makes the concept of an afterlife—and endless potential suffering—even more disturbing. I really hope God is just the fantasy it seems to be.

I’m not kidding when I say I can’t hold on forever, and I won’t. If I don’t get my energy back by next year, I’m done. I refuse to spend the rest of my life lying around, wishing I had the energy to live my life. Whatever curse is over me, it won’t let me die, but it also won’t let me live well. If he really lives into his 80s, I’m not going to get cancer in five years, nor will I die of a heart attack or stroke in ten. Until I end it myself, I’m practically invincible in a sense.

Another thing that’s worrying me is that my sleep cycle is slowing down again after it was rolling faster, which might make my next appointment even harder.

The person with the truck that’s been parking at Ray’s has been staying there, but they’ve been quiet.

Last night, the redneck posted about his homeless neighbor walking around at 11 p.m. The guy the nutjob took in. Apparently, they go to the clubhouse looking for cigarette butts, which is a little odd since you’re not supposed to smoke there or at the pool (though some people do smoke outside the clubhouse).

Someone also mentioned the dogs that bark in the subdivision down the street, saying they’re surprised no one has complained. My thoughts exactly! Also, why couldn’t I say something like that and not get lynched for it?

I’ve always been surprised that it’s gone on this long, and I don’t know how those nearby tolerate it. Someone suggested it might be a kennel, but maybe people have complained and gotten nowhere. People might be quick to complain about others here in the East, but they’re just as sensitive to being complained about as people out West.

Despite my many hobbies, I’m finding myself bored sometimes. I wish I could find something new and exciting, but nothing’s coming to mind. I’d love to role-play, just to chat casually with various characters in my stories—not intimately, just talking. But what would I talk about, and how many times could I cover the same topics? I thought about acting out scenes from my stories, but I can’t get into the idea. Adults can’t pretend the way kids can; they bring a realism to it that just isn’t possible for me. I can’t trick myself into believing something I don’t actually feel or believe.

I told Mia that I sometimes get bored at night, even with all my hobbies, and she replied that having many hobbies doesn’t always stave off boredom.

So, I shared my role-playing idea with her just to get her take on it, where I would interview some of the characters from my story—something I’ve heard other writers do. She said she’d heard of it too, and that authors really do this. I asked her how to go about it and admitted that the idea seemed a little silly, but I’m open to trying something new to fill my time. Like I told her, though, I’m not a kid anymore, so make-believe doesn’t feel the same as it would to a child. She suggested I imagine the characters suddenly here and think about what I would naturally say if they were.

I’ll have to try it sometime, though I’m still figuring out how to approach it. I guess I’ll just jump in and say what comes naturally, as Mia suggested, instead of having a specific topic in mind. The only thing is that while I can imagine what I would say, I can’t really know what they would say back. Maybe this whole thing is a bit ridiculous after all.