Doc A says she thinks the throat irritation and tingling are due to anxiety and recommends I keep taking the statins. Well, since my symptoms have improved I will, though I doubt the throat part was anxiety alone.

About a dozen cops were shot and half a dozen killed last night as a protest. Damn blacks. Just damn them. I’m by far no fan of the police. Many of them are corrupt bastards high on power-play. However, this has given me a newfound disgust for blacks. The more violent they are, the less people are going to accept them yet they just don’t seem to get this. Seriously, how can they do shit like this and then complain that no one likes them?

Over the years I have watched so many blacks ruin so many lives without much, if any, provocation, including that of my husband and myself. I refuse to be “politically correct” and side with them or any other troublemaking group in society.

The Twenties are just as racist as I am, LOL. They threw a Trump sign outside their place. If Hillary wasn’t a female and I wasn’t more sexist than racist I would hope Trump got elected. Really think Trump is a closeted gay as are many who hate women that much. Just like bullies are often feeling just as worthless as those they bully, well, many times one can hate someone (or a group) because they see themselves in that person/people, and it’s a part of themselves they’re not able/ready to accept. So they go and they marry women for show and cuz it’s the “right thing to do” as they’re usually able to at least stand to have sex with them. Of course fatties like my mother and her mother picked on my weight. They were even fatter and they were seeing a budding image of themselves in my few extra pounds.

Anyway, I found the Twenties’ Facebook profiles. She’s from Cali, he’s from Iowa. She worked at a place called CoreLogic. He was a census worker. Sure enough, they showed support when the Muzzies attacked France, but nothing for the gays in Orlando. So they’re probably even bigger haters than I am, but as long as they’re quiet they can hate away!

Later…

I had been hesitant to share much of the anxiety I’ve dealt with on and off for the last two years in public so as not to confuse or bring down those who don’t get it. I get that many don’t get some things they haven’t experienced firsthand and therefore can’t relate to. Instead, they will remind me to “smile” and “think positive.” Not that they’re wrong for saying so as it’s always good to smile and think positively. But sometimes things are a little more complicated than that and they take a little more work and time than just positive thoughts and phrases. Even I wouldn’t be able to comprehend how a grown adult could have bouts of being afraid to be alone in a gated, upscale community if I hadn’t been one of those adults. Well, take it from me… sometimes our logic doesn’t go with our emotions and this can be due to medical reasons and or medications. I know. It happened to me and now I’m willing to share more of my story in public, and this is a copy of that.

Thanks to meeting with Stacey yesterday, I don’t feel so anxious about the idea of Tom returning to work next Monday after restarting the statins which restarted my anxiety. I even told her I almost wished I could see her every month for life since I always feel better afterward, LOL. To say she’s been the most helpful counselor of any that I’ve ever seen is quite an understatement!

“I’m only going to see her once just to make my doctor happy,” I had said last year until I was reminded that some things really do take time to get over and heal from. The horrifying event may be over, but it’s not “over” for those who experience the horror. At least not right away. And while we may never forget a certain event, we really can overcome things, just not usually as fast as we’d like. I will probably always have a fear of medication in general, but it was nice when I could finally take the painkillers once again that I’ve always taken for cramps and whatnot without fearing something bad would come of it.

I met with her alone, which not surprisingly, she said she’d prefer. Tom would have been a distraction. And so the EMDR sessions have begun and Stacey has helped get me to see that I wasn’t so weak and helpless after all (the day I was traumatized two years ago). I did manage to dial 911, and I did get the back door open as well. Our ultimate goal is to make it less likely for me to panic in the future if something scary happens.

She waved two fingers in front of my face as I saw done on some YouTube vids, only she moved them faster than I expected. Keeping my head still, she had me follow her fingers with my eyes. I found it much harder than I thought it would be to move my eyes so fast from side to side, so she switched to up and down. During those times I was supposed to think of a negative trait I believed I had at the time, then later a positive one. In between these hand movements, which would only last about 10 seconds, I was to walk myself through the event…

My heart suddenly booming in my chest.

Running out of the bedroom.

Running down the hall.

Fumbling with the new phone I wasn’t yet familiar with and hoping I could call 911.

Finally getting through to 911 despite how shaky my hands were.

Next… getting the back door open in case I didn’t survive until the paramedics arrived.

Stepping out of the house and into the carport, phone in hand, trying to remember the space number for the dispatcher.

Seeing a curious worker across the street glance at me through the Cypress trees at the sound of my frantic voice.

Hearing the sound of the paramedics approaching.

Moving toward the end of the driveway.

Relief running through me as a young redheaded guy exited the passenger side of the fire truck.

A gurney wheeled from the back of the ambulance that was parked behind the fire truck.

The paramedics hooking me to a cardiogram.

Them assuring me that I didn’t accidentally take a lethal dose of levothyroxine and that I didn’t have a heart attack…

Then we talked about how my fear ultimately ended up turning into confusion and then to anger.

When I went back into the house after the paramedics left I didn’t understand why I still felt like such shit if I didn’t have a heart attack or OD. I thought I just needed a good night’s sleep, yet I still felt like crap the next day. My heart raced and pounded on and off. I would experience flashes of dread and a sense of things just not being right at all. I felt weak and as if my legs were made of concrete. The only thing I was sure of at the time was that it was somehow connected to my thyroid meds. Sometimes the anxiety was more physical (racing heart, shaking, tingling, throat lump, upset stomach) and other times it was more emotional (feeling fearful, suddenly bursting into tears, wanting to scream).

The team of doctors I had at the time was anything but helpful, insisting I was “just anxious” and I should keep on taking the medication, but instead I stopped both my thyroid and statin medication and began the hunt for a new team of doctors with a new medical group. Sadly, it would take about 6 months to learn what really happened that fateful day in July of 2014, which is where my confusion would turn to anger.

I was very angry that my first set of doctors didn’t take the time to warn me about what could happen on levothyroxine in conjunction with other things that may be going on… tachycardia, perimenopause… that can create the perfect storm.

I eventually got a good team of doctors who explained to me about pockets of activity flaring up within the thyroid before they burn out for good. For about 3 months I continued to have scattered bursts of anxiety and instances where my heart would start racing because that’s how long it usually takes for your body to adjust after your dose is lowered or you stop the medication altogether. I still have some anxiety; just not nearly as much.

Today I’m on a dose suitable for my body, though first we had to “overflow my tank,” as my specialist put it, in order to find what dose I feel best at. 88 mcgs is just a touch high and 75 is just a touch low, but still enough to keep me out of danger.

Another reason I was angry at the doctors was that they failed to tell me I was going through perimenopause. I thought you had to be in your mid to late 50s for that, and so I didn’t recognize my symptoms as being related to that right away. Anxiety, hot flashes and sleep disturbances have been my most noticeable symptoms of perimenopause and yes, perimenopause is WAY worse than getting regular periods, LOL. With periods, you get them and then you’re done for a few weeks. With perimenopause, some days are easier than others, but it’s an everyday thing.

Every. Single. Day.

As Stacey said, though, it’s counterproductive to hang onto that anger because it can have a similar physiological effect as anxiety. It’s not always easy to do, though I’m working on it.

Will see Stacey again next week. Meanwhile, she shocked the shit out of me when she told me she too, has hypothyroidism. I was shocked due to how thin she is, though it’s really only her arms and legs that are thin. She has tummy rolls same as I do. She works out and watches what she eats and is naturally thin and non-muscular while I’m naturally fat and muscular. She’d probably be as big or bigger than me if she weren’t.

What was strange was how I recently had a dream that some woman told me she was on levothyroxine and I was shocked because she was so thin. Only the woman didn’t look anything like Stacey.