Maybe it's Yourself

As I have spent a lot of this week drifting in and out of old memories I have also begun translating how past me has become present me. I have been a regular exerciser since the age of 15, 18 years.

I started running the summer after my Freshman year in High School. The reason I started running is another post altogether. Where my story begins today is my Junior year in High School.

1997. Young. Beautiful. Smart. Talented. And 100lbs. I should never weigh 100lbs.

The journey to this weight was a twisted vortex of control. I wore a size 2. It's unfathomable to me how sick I was...and how I still wanted to be thinner. Except...it's not really off my radar. To be thin. It's always there, a faint voice that can still shout doubt and depression into my core.

I shall reveal to you much more of this story that sadly too many other men and women know all too well at another time. Where I'd like to take you today is what happens after you starve yourself and exercise to death for years...to where I am now.

Believe it or not, I sit here today as a Fitness Professional. I have a Bachelor's in Exercise Science and a Master's in Public Health. I have been teaching group fitness since 1999 and have been a personal trainer since 2002. My internal battle of eating and exercise has never stopped; I've just learned to be a better General.

In college, I began to notice that something was wrong. I was eating well and exercising correctly and kept gaining weight. I was exhausted, sluggish...I wasn't me. I kept making appointment after appointment to see the doctor's at the student health center. I knew in my heart something was wrong with my thyroid. Test after test said no. But why was this happening to me?

Finally after graduate school as I landed my first "big-girl" job, I found a new family physician. I actually went in due to a knee injury but ended up saying something about my troubles nonchalantly. He said he wanted to do some tests, to which I replied, I've already had all the tests. Not this one, he told me.

About a week later, after a long five years, I was diagnosed with Hashimoto's Thyroiditis. Basically I have antibodies in my thyroid that have decided my thyroid is a foreign object and has been slowly trying to kill my thyroid over the years. Hashi patients suffer because sometimes our thyroids spit out thyroid hormones and sometimes it does not. Many of us suffer severe hypothyroidism symptoms; such as myself. I now take a thyroid replacement every morning. I have my levels tested ever 4 months. And my roller coaster ride is never ending.

When I was at my lowest weight I felt powerful. Yes I was very sick. I was angry all the time. Hangry really. I was depressed. I thought everyone was out to get me. But I had control and it felt amazing. I've never forgotten how that feels. I crave it but my body works every second of every day against me.

The thing about Hashi's is you are on hell of a ride of the rest of your life. Even though I take thyroid hormone, my levels fluctuate most likely on a daily basis. Lots of the time, I feel great. I have energy, I'm happy, I'm healthy. Other times...not so great. Fatigue that I can't even begin to explain. Unmotivated. Depressed. The hardest part, for me, of having Hashi's is the weight fluctuation. It seriously does.not.matter. what I do, my body will gain and lose weight at it's will. I exercise most days of the week and my husband will tell you I'm a Ninja. I can eat like a rabbit or like a bear...it doesn't matter. I have no control.

I live in a world of getting ready to step on the scale, feeling good, and once I step on, my entire day shatters. I preach it's just a number...but after my complicated history...I can't stop. My happiness will often lie in if I am having a "fat day" or "skinny day." I am perpetually trying to lose weight. I want people to notice and comment if I look thinner and pray they do not notice if the scale has gone up. I feel that people judge me when I tell them my profession. Even though I have worked so hard to be where I am, I feel ashamed to tell them what I do; that I'm not good enough, that I don't look the part.

When will our society stop with the insanity that thinness is beauty? When can the insurance companies, drug companies, and doctors stop being money mongers and let diseases be cured. When will people stop being so cruel? I have a feeling the answer to the last question is never. How else can you feel good about yourself unless you are making someone else's day hell?

"Be Kind. For everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about."

-Cashier's do not make the rules at the store
-Fast Foot workers have feelings too
-The Bank Teller did not steal your money

Who can you be kinder to today to make our world a better place? Maybe it's yourself.