Tuesday 2/23/21 Still Tired

Hi there. I'm still tired. Exhausted would be a more appropriate term, I think. And cold. My hands and feet are freezing, I'm in my hoodie, despite it being 62 degrees out (it's a gorgeous day). My hair seems to be thinning and I'm experiencing BO like I'm a teenager going through puberty again. WTF, body?? Seriously, it's ridiculous. Not to mention the muscle soreness and joint pain (thankfully mild). 

I have an appointment with my doctor this Friday. I'm sure I'll have lots of lab work drawn. I want to have lots of lab work drawn. I want to know what's going on. I have my suspicions. Sub-clinical hypothyroid is my top guess. Why subclinical? Well, I think my thyroid hormones will be within the normal range, but at the far end - not in the middle. I think this because my values always seem to be "normal" - I can't just have a clear cut answer. Which is annoying. But my symptoms match hypothyroidism. 

Though I have a feeling that my symptoms may be blamed on fibromyalgia. And who knows - maybe it really is fibromyalgia. But I think because of the muscle pain my doc might lean this way. And I could be totally off base. Who knows. 

There is a little worry in the back of my head though. A little worry that gets a little larger each day. Because I catch myself staring absently into space. Because I catch myself sighing heavily. Because I catch myself having more negative thoughts. 

Depression.

What if what I'm experiencing is depression trying to seep back into my life? I'm worried because I'm off of Welbutrin - I haven't taken it for a week now.  What if the Welbutrin was actually the reason I was feeling better and now that I'm off of it my depression is coming back. Slowly. Insidiously. What if . . .

The thing is, I don't feel depressed. I still feel happy. I still feel joyful. I don't have that emptiness in me that was all too consuming when I was depressed. But I still have that little worry. And I don't want it to be depression, obviously. And I don't want my doc to immediately jump to this conclusion because of my past. I want thorough testing done. I want all avenues checked before we make a diagnosis. I want this desperately not to be depression. 

I guess we'll see though. See what the doc says. And I'm not seeing my regular doc, btw. I'm seeing one of the PAs. Seeing my regular doc would have put my appointment time a month and a half away, instead of a week. Maybe fresh eyes will have a different perspective. 

I'm sick of feeling like this though. I want to be awake. I want to have energy. I don't want to be sore. I don't want to be cold or sweaty. Ugh. I want to feel how I did 3 months ago.

Anyway, I think I have my final version of my dove tattoo all painted out. It's a dove with cherry blossoms. And I'm really digging it.

Now I just gotta save up money . . . Sell some paintings and/or plushies. 

Tuesday 2/16/21 Finally, My Tattoo

 Well, last Wednesday my magpie tattoo was finally finished! Hooray!!! I absolutely LOVE it! I gotta say though, it hurt like the dickens. I mean, it hurt bad. And it hurt bad for several days after, too. But it's worth it because it's beautiful (at least I think so). 

This pic was taken the day after getting inked. It was tender AF. I really love it though. It matches my painting amazingly! My tattoo artist, Don, never ceases to amaze me. And now I'm working on my next tattoo - a dove with cherry blossoms. I've kind of decided that I want to sleeve out my right arm with birds. Because, well, birds. I love birds. But I'm not just picking random birds - they all have meaning behind them and they are all my own work. Two magpies, for example, represent joy. And I have felt nothing but joy in my life since finding stability. My sparrows remind me that God is watching over me for "His eye is on the sparrow, so I know He watches me". And a dove, well, a dove represents the Holy Spirit (and I just really love cherry blossoms). So yeah. Meaning.

The dove will go on the inside of my right arm, just below the crook of my elbow. I'm trying to decide what will go on the top of my forearm. I'm leaning towards a sparrow in flight with daffodils or dandelions (I also love daffodils and dandelions). But we'll see. Tattoos are expensive and I'll need time to save up for them. 

In other news, I'm still crazy tired. I worked 4 of the last 5 days and all of them were busy. I slept in today, had breakfast and coffee, and then laid back down again for an hour. And I still feel like I need to nap. I'm sick and tired of this fatigue. I'm thinking I probably should see the doctor for it. I'm just being stubborn, hoping it will pass. But it's not. I'll discuss with hubs today and maybe call tomorrow to set up an appointment. 

Nothing much else going on except for ridiculously cold temperatures, which needs to take a hike because I'm sick of it and I want warmth and sunshine. I mean, it's been cold - in the negatives the past several days. Even the overhead sprinkler system at the hospital froze and burst yesterday, flooding part of the ground level. Oy. That's cold! Spring time where are you??

Tuesday 2/9/21 Tired

 As the title says, I'm tired. I've been exhausted for around 3-4 weeks now. Feeling run down, sore, stiff, and sleepy. I can't seem to get enough sleep. Pretty much every day I don't work I take a nap. I feel as though I absolutely have to take one to function. At work I down coffee and try to stay busy (not difficult with the baby boom going on). But I'm just. So. Tired.

I've thought about going to the doctor for my fatigue, but I'm pretty sure what he's going to say: it's your fibromyalgia. You're in a flare up. It'll pass. I've wondered about that - if it's fibromyalgia. I've been diagnosed with it, but I don't typically have the symptoms that go with it. Well, I did when I was diagnosed, and it would appear I do now as well. But I still remain skeptical. Wondering if it's my thyroid or something. 

My muscles and joints are stiff. My skin seems . . . sensitive. And I feel sore, as if I've had a good workout (which, sadly, I haven't). And then the fatigue. The tiredness. Literally aching to lie down and sleep. It's weird - I used to sleep to get a break from my depression. But I'm not depressed - not even close. I feel like I need to sleep to function. Like I'm so tired I can't possible make it through the day without a nap. 

I haven't really talked about this with my hubby. I'm sure he's noticed me sleeping more, taking more naps. But I haven't brought it up. I'm not sure why. I know part of me feels guilty about it. I feel kind of stupid and weak because of it. I don't want him to think that I'm getting depressed again, or, worse, that I'm making this up.

Oy vey. I hate it, that's for sure. I could be so much more productive if I wasn't dragging myself around and napping. I want to be more productive. I want this to go away. 

Well, let's shift gears a moment. Be more positive. I should be - finally - getting my magpie tattoo finished tomorrow. I'm excited about it! I so badly want to see it finished with all the blues and greens in it. So that's tomorrow. And I've been drawing out some ideas for my next tattoo, a dove. I'd like to have my right arm sleeved out with birds. Some day . . . 

Here are my ideas:

This first one is the one I'm leaning towards. I love it. The next one (below) is the runner up.

It's a close runner up, as I really like it as well. The third one I'm just kinda "meh" about.

It's not bad, I just like the other two more.

And a note about work: the first 9 days of February have been ridiculously busy. Like, busy y'all. So many babies. I think all the Covid pregnancies are starting to deliver. We've been full pretty much every day. 

Tuesday 2/2/21 Bummer, man

 So I am quite bummed out right now. I was supposed to have my magpie tattoo finished today, but alas, it's been pushed back to next week. My tattoo artist said it wasn't quite healed enough for him to finish it today. And that if he tried, it could scar up. Well, I really don't want scarring to ruin my tattoo, so I guess I'm waiting another week. Next Wednesday. In the meantime he said to loofa the shit out of it and apply copious amounts of lotion (I've been doing lotion but not scrubbing it). So yeah, no finished tattoo for me. 

On the bright side, it's 60 degrees here in Colorado today! It's gorgeous out! It's making me long for Spring time, warmer weather, and sun. I may have to sit outside and read a bit. 

And on the darker side, I just got off the phone with my mom, who says she thinks she's going to die soon. Of heart failure. Because her chest hurts where her ribs were broken. One thing that you have to keep in mind is that my mom is an alcoholic. Has been one since before I was born. She denies it to this day, but it's obvious when she's been drinking. Anyway, I talked to her this morning and she was fine. Hadn't been drinking, we had a nice conversation for an hour. But then she calls me up, just a few minutes ago, crying and going on about how she thinks she's going to die and that she's going to get her will in order. Has she heard anything from a doctor? Has she even gone to a doctor? No. Her chest hurts where her  ribs were broken so logically she must be dying. You have to understand that when my mom has been drinking every little thing is the end of the world. The drama never stops. She's dying, she's going to leave her husband, and on and on. It's so frustrating to deal with. And because everything is the "worst pain" or "worst experience" of her life, I don't know what's real or what's the alcohol anymore. Everything is drama. Oy. I don't know what to do. Her alcoholism is the elephant in the room that no one dares talk about. I mean, her husband has to know, right? It's a Jeckle and Hyde type of transformation - I don't know how he couldn't know. Does he just deal with it? Is he truly oblivious? I've never asked him. And my mom would deny it anyway. She could be drinking vodka from the bottle and tell you she doesn't drink. And she believes it, that's the sad part. Denial is a strong and strange thing. 

Well, it was good to get that out. I'll chat with hubs about it when he gets home. I texted my brother about it as well. He said he talked to her earlier today and she seemed okay at first but then started getting all weird and feeling sorry for herself. I don't know. Let's move on.

Last week I shared the pigeon painting I did for a commission. I included this little gem for her too:

Because who doesn't love a fat little pigeon?! This little painting measures 4in X 4in. It's small. And cute. And I hope she likes it.