Thursday, February 2, 2012

Tired.

I've been having a rough month.  I've been having a rough year.


There are some days when I'm laying in bed, and wondering, "What in the heck is wrong with me?  Why can't I get out of bed?"

I'm so tired.  My thyroid was a problem, "The Barry Curse," as our family practitioner stated to me in a cover letter for my lab results.  (When I say family practitioner, I mean, my mom's entire side of the family. Everyone.  All of us.  A whole lot of us).  The women in the family, starting with Jenny Frenette, then Stella May O'Connor, then Estelle Barry, and all of her daughters, (which includes my mother) have either Hypothyroid Disease or Hoshimoto's Disease.  My sisters both have thyroid disease.  We all have it.  That can make a person tired.

 

My grandfather dying makes me tired.


My grandmother becoming frail makes me tired.

Family in crisis makes me tired.


I get sick every single time I am exposed to a germ, and that makes me tired.


I was pregnant in August, and that made me tired.


I'm not pregnant anymore, and that makes me so tired.

I'm a woman, and my hormones seem to harass me, so I'm freaking tired. 


I have twins.  Tired.  (A year before my blood test came back as T4 deficient, my doctor wrote in the cover letter to results that showed that nothing was wrong with me.  Not a gosh darn thing was wrong with me: "You're a mother of twins, and you work full time."  That's why I was tired?  Life?  My life makes me tired?!  Shoot.  No cure for that one).


Not teaching makes me tired.


Wanting to go to sleep all the time makes me tired.

 I can drink a Starbucks Caramel Macchiato with 4 shots of expresso, and I'm still tired.


And so, I'll let you know when something works, and I wake up.
Because when I stop being tired, the whole world is going to change.


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