Dear Stacey,

I’m writing to you because I’m so frustrated and I think you’d understand.

I just read your book, “You’re Not Crazy and You’re Not Alone” and I have to tell you: I laughed and cried and felt like someone put my life into words.

It’s the first time I haven’t felt crazy and alone.

My husband doesn’t get it. He just wants to fix it like he fixes everything else.

And he’s frustrated. He wants his old wife back. The fun, skinny one who liked to try new restaurants and go to the movies or dancing or on trips.

Now, everything is about my stomach, my fatigue, or my mood.

Plus, nothing fits. I’ve outgrown everything I own.

My doctor doesn’t seem to understand and he’s the expert. He’s sort of like my husband with a medical degree — just wants to fix it by giving me a pill.

But the pills haven’t worked and I feel like a pain in the ass when I go back in there and still feel the same awful, exhausted feelings that I felt before. The doctor seems exasperated with me, like I’m not working instead of the prescription not working.

I hate feeling so blamed for where I am.

I think I even blame myself in some ways.

No one understands and honestly, I don’t understand my own body or what’s going on enough to explain it to anyone.

I don’t have a lot of will right now. I say I want to do the right things but I feel so poorly that I don’t even want to try another supplement or pill.

It takes so much energy.

It’s hard to have hope.

But I guess I must have some because I’m reaching out to you.

I want to feel good
I want to feel free to eat what I want

I want to be able to move my body
And fit into my clothes
And spend money on trips instead of doctors visits

I just want to feel like me again.
Can you show me, but in simple ways because the brain fog is so bad… and I want to not feel so guilty about doing one thing and missing 100 others.

Oh, and can you show me how to stay on top of my house and my car and my purse? All of them are overflowing like my ass out of my jeans.

I just want the old me back.

I mean, I definitely want the old spunk and energy and cuteness I used to have BUT, if I’m being honest, there were some crazy parts of me I want to let go of. Some controlling and afraid parts. Some judgmental and cranky party. I don’t know what to do about them. I think I’ve let my past creep in.

It wasn’t a great past. It was pretty painful. I’m strong. I kept going, but I don’t know that I’ve healed fully.

In fact, I’m pretty sure I haven’t.

How do I heal, keep up with the house, co-provide for my family, and have fun in my marriage? How do I feel beautiful again — but this time, not just on the outside, like some kind of cover-up, but on the inside, where it really matters.

Oh, and I’ll take a dose of peace if you have it. I could really use some peace.

I don’t know if Hashimoto’s kicked up my fear or if it just revealed it. Either way: I’m pretty anxious and I’d like to be able to take a deep breath and really let it go…

And I want to be able to  trust that all is well, that I’m going to be okay and that this shitty time will pass.

I know you can understand.

Can you help me?

Signed,

Almost Every Woman with Hashimoto’s

If this sounds like you, please pick up my book that I wrote just for women like you and me, “You’re Not Crazy and You’re Not Alone”.  So much of the healing starts with feeling like someone understands and someone cares.

And please join 6500 other women in our supportive, high-vibe Hashimoto’s FB tribe: The Girlfriends’ Guide to Hashimoto’s