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  • Writer's pictureErin Spineto

The Thyroid Train

The details of this illness and how it has been shaping my life for the last two years are long and dull, so I won't bother with a list of all the ways it sucks to be me right now, except to mention that it is a very weird place to be when none of your emotions are actually tied into reality.

My thyroid's got my limbic system all screwed up so that feelings come drifting through me with no stimulus and no connection to what is really going on outside, and they are getting more and more unreasonable. (The docs say this thing can actually make you clinically insane).

I was driving up to Orange County the other day and it was finally quiet in the car for a moment and I'm looking out the window, round about Camp Pendelton, and I notice two red cars. They start to form this momentary attachement in my mind. A few seconds later I start noticing a couple other red cars, so now there are five.

And they are shifting their location relative to one another, nothing major, not even a lane change, just that the one in the front is slowing a bit and the fourth one has closed in on the bumper of the third. I notice that they are all a slightly different shade of red and this frustrates me and taunts me.

I cannot really call them all red because this one is slightly mauve and that one is a little more orange and the other one is a little shinier. For a minute or two, I am exasperated by these cars, until I notice a building sign that is also another shade of red which further complicates things.

But the spell is quickly broken by the helicopter taking off from the field to my left and a whole other stream of thoughts jump into my head. I spend my whole day like this, one random thought interrupting another, none of them having anything to do with one another.

Usually I like spending the whole day in my head, slowly meandering through analysis of my younger self and what I said when I went out last week and how I like flowers, but now my thoughts are so quick and jolting that they are almost painful to experience and none of them can be described as fun or enjoyable or even pleasant. Mostly they are depressing and guilty and panicked and anxious.

I miss my old relaxed, mellow self. I cant wait to meet her again and to be able to follow a train of thought for more than fifteen seconds at a time before it speeds away taking with it any sense of peace or tranquility.


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