DEAR THYROID^TM

Dear Thyroid:

Well, you’ve really made me crazy this past week.

I started crying about Michael Jackson’s death last week,  and haven’t been able to stop yet.  ,   I have never in my life cried over a celebrity’s death.

I didn’t cry because I was a huge fan.   I liked him, but hadn’t even paid attention after the Thriller album.

I was surprised when I heard it on the news talk show I listen to on the radio.   I cry a lot lately over stupid things.   Why Michael Jackson and not Farrah Fawcett?

I am starting to understand why.   I identified with Michael Jackson.

He changed a lot in appearance.   So did I.   By the time he hit 40, he didn’t look like himself.   By the time I hit 40, I didn’t look like myself either, but not by choice.   Maybe he felt as if he had no choice.

He was called “crazy” and “Wacko Jacko”.   Because of my mood swings over the years, I, too am called “Wacko Jacko” and it hurts.   So I know how he felt.

He was in debt a lot right before he died.   I, too, am in a lot of debt due to losing my job due to my health problems, and medical bills.

Everyone thought he was faking his illnesses.   I know the feeling.   I can’t possibly be sick, because one day I can do things, and the next day I can’t, or so other people think.

He wanted to be Peter Pan.   I wanted to be Snow White.   I even went so far as dying my naturally red hair almost black.

We both had pretty bad childhoods and we both became messed up in part due to our early years.   I became bulimic, he went to cosmetic surgery.

I have very few real friends.   I am afraid to trust people because I am afraid of getting hurt when they get tired of me not being able to do everything all the time.   The others I thought were my friends dumped me after I got sick.   He didn’t have very many friends, either,  because he was afraid to trust others.

One of his best friends was a white llama.   I have always loved petting zoos and go to one close to my home quite frequently.   There,  was a white llama there that followed me around.   I never knew why.

I got sick in my late 20s.   I am having a hard time dealing with the fact that I lost my 30s due to illness.   I’m trying to hang on to my youth.   He tried hanging on to his youth,  too.

Michael Jackson was always dissatisfied with how he looked and tried to make himself into something better.   I started doing the same thing when I first got sick.   I still am dissatisfied and trying to improve myself.   If I had the money, I would have a face lift and tummy tuck due to the fullness in my face and the extra weight from the hypothyroidism.   Would it suffice, or would I want or need more due to my problem?

I identified with Michael Jackson.   I never knew any of the above about him until I started reading things on the internet this past week.   I had no clue about his llama, or his nickname, debts, etc.   I didn’t care.   He was another celebrity.   What did I care.

But, when I was bombarded by the media about his private life, I became interested and started reading everything I could.

The thing that made me cry the most was seeing how his appearance changed.   Mine did too.   Drastically.

I now realize that it wasn’t because he was famous, or I loved his music, but because of what he was going through and what he had to deal with.   I know what I am going through, even though it isn’t even half as bad as what he went through, I am slowly going crazy from my problems, or so I feel.   How was he supposed to deal with what was happening to him?,   No one knew what he went through.   Just like no one knows what I am going through.

No one can know what it feels like to be stared at in a restaurant and it seems like people are thinking “Why is she eating THAT?,   Look at how fat she is.”,   I’ve actually had people that I didn’t even know come up to me and say things like “My xxxxx (insert relative, friend, etc.) had gastric bypass surgery and he/she is beautiful.”,   Or “you have such a pretty face.   It’s too bad you are heavy.”,   Even though people were staring at him and publicly humiliating him for different reasons, the pain is still the same.

I know what it feels like to make bad choices due to not thinking things through.   Although mine is from my thyroid fog, and his is from something else, it still has the same effect on how you feel after.

I feel like going out with a mask on and hiding from the world.   Due to the fact that I am in a lot of pain due to my fibromyalgia also, I have been taking prescription pain meds and even though I am not addicted, there is always the fear that it may happen.   And again, one minute I can be sick and in pain and the other minute, I am fine.   But the mental anguish is always there.

This may sound like a stupid letter.   Forgive me Thyroid, I never meant to turn this into a Michael Jackson eulogy.   Thanks again for the craziness again, Thyroid.

I cried for his inner pain and humiliation.   I cried because I know how it feels to be beautiful once and see a monster when you look in the mirror.   I cried for me.   I cried for the fact that after we both turned 30, we were never the same again.

Love,

Jackie

(Bio) “Hi.  My name is Jackie, and I am 40 years old.   My life ended as I knew it, the Spring I turned 30.   I didn’t know what was wrong with me.   Doctors insisted I was crazy.   I almost believed them.  Thank you, Dear Thyroid for your site.  I hope this letter I write will finally allow me to accept my condition…

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