I’m feeling empty.

I don’t like myself, or anything really.

I’m still feeling like a massive disappointment in life and like nothing matters.

I just don’t really care about much but Bruce.

The tv isn’t interesting.

I haven’t listened to music outside of the car in about a year.

I haven’t read anything in months.

There are only a few people that I talk to, that I trust.

I haven’t touched my crochet, collage, or coloring books in about a year.

I don’t care about any of them.

Nothing’s stimulating.

I guess writing is okay still… for now.

I’m fucking exhausted.

I keep falling asleep for 10-20 minutes at a time, all the time, sitting up, at my computer, neck bent over, practically every day.

I’m getting 9-10 hours of sleep at night, and it’s still not enough.

I fucking hurt, a lot.

I keep waking up with a headache.

My back is having nerve issues.

My knees are swollen and pounding.

My left shoulder has been sore and stiff.

I have not been wanting to be around people.

I’ve been in this self loathing spiral in my head.

And holy fuck.

I was just googling things on hypothyroidism, and just found out that hypothyroidism causes anhedonia.

And then this, on how hypothyroidism and depression often reinforce one another through shared neuroendocrine pathways. 

Fuck.

No wonder why I had depression and anhedonia at 9, 10 fucking years old.

And, in case you didn’t know, I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism at birth.

These two literally go hand in hand with even stable hypothyroidism.

And then anhedonia is not only a symptom of stable and instable hypothyroidism, but it’s also a symptom of schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, PTSD, anxiety, and major depressive disorder – practically all of my fucking diagnoses.

So I’m getting hit from both physical, and mental sides – from all angles, with these feelings, this “lack of interest, enjoyment or pleasure from life’s experiences”.

And, I’ve been doing some googling on the significance of having hypothyroidism and also having bipolar disorder.

I found mixed studies.

But I also found that A 2024 research review showed that people with bipolar disorder had a 2.5-fold higher chance of having atypical thyroid hormone levels than the larger population.

And I’ve heard something similar to that before too.

So there is some sort of link.

There is a tie.

And further along in that same article, it says that the mental health symptoms of having hypothyroidism – I believe, and would assume, even at stable levels, include; “low mood (hopelessness, loneliness, emptiness), persistent sadness, low motivation, inability to experience pleasure and joy, anxiety episodes, difficulty with concentration and memory, persistent mood changes, irritability, social withdrawal”.

So my memory and concentration issues come from several places too.

Same goes for my anxiety issues – which are persistent.

Fuck.

I’m legit getting pummeled from all of these different angles in my body.

No wonder why I always feel like everything is out to get me.

It is.

I even found an article that talks about bipolar disorder and schizophrenia and how thyroid dysfunction, particularly hypothyroidism and hyperthyroidism, is prevalent among individuals with schizophrenia as well.

I knew hypothyroidism was stronger than they make it seem.

I knew it was bigger than the little pill that I have to take every day.

It’s destructive, even when the levels are stable.

“One study found that 63.5% of participants who had subclinical thyroid problems, or had symptoms of underactive thyroid but were below the diagnostic criteria for hypothyroidism, exhibited symptoms of depression.Treatment with thyroid hormone led to some relief, but it was not enough on its own to induce full recovery.” 

That same article goes on to state that “the connection between underactive thyroid and depression is strong enough that the American Association of Clinical Endocrinologists suggests that all people diagnosed with depression should be evaluated for subclinical or clinical hypothyroidism.”

Even people with levels that aren’t fully clinically significant have the same mental illness issues that folks with terribly high levels do.

That’s how powerful that “little” hormone is.

I mean, it regulates the metabolism too for fucks sake.

It’s potent.

And I read in numerous articles that the threshold for the TSH levels, for an adult, is 0.27 – 4.2 uIU/mL.

That’s not the functional medicine range, that’s the traditional medical range.

But I personally have noticed, because I have been dealing with this my entire life, that if I am over about a 2.0, 2.5, I will have terrible symptoms start up.

The symptoms of having high TSH levels – which is opposite of what you think, it actually means your thyroid hormones are low, but the physical symptoms are; constipation, depression, dry skin, low libido, tiredness, sensitivity to cold, sluggishness, weight gain.

So, not only do you have to deal with the mental symptoms, all of these physical symptoms pop up too.

It’s awful.

And the big physical symptoms that show up for me are; tiredness, sluggishness, weight gain, depression, and dry skin.

The tiredness and sluggishness will become unbearable when my levels are too high.

I’ve had a low/non-existent libido for about half a decade now.

And when they say “Subclinical Hypothyroidism” they mean still within range. 

Which is fucking wild.

This is where medical gaslighting steps up.

Because it’s “normal”, but folks are showing all the fucking symptoms because it’s out of range for them.

It’s still high for them.

It’s way more subjective than the range lets it be.

I know all too well about this – I’ve dealt with this shit first hand.

Doctors not upping my medication because I’m “within normal limits” but I know that my levels are high for me, because I have all of the symptoms, and I’ve dealt with this since fucking birth.

But the symptoms are so subjective.

They’re all internal.

There’s no way for a doctor to measure your “sluggishness”, or your “cold intolerance”, ya know?

It’s a seriously messed up diagnostic range.

The functional medicine range is much narrower: between 0.5 – 2.0 mIU/L. 

And I gotta say, functional medicine is onto something here (and in a ton of other areas).

That article goes on to say; “in functional medicine we use a narrower reference range, based on what we see in patients who are actually thriving”.

And that’s the key.

“Actually thriving”.

Because 2.0 is a reasonable “high” TSH level.

4.2 is fucking absurd.

Everyone’s gonna feel like shit at 4.2.

I’m getting off topic.

I digress…

Getting back to the anhedonia.

I’m realizing I’ve been dealing with this off and on my entire life.

And I’m in another “wave” right now – another “episode”, “chapter”, “installment”, whatever you wanna call it, I’m in it.

And I’m realizing that I’ve been in it for a long time.

On and off, mind you.

But a long time regardless.

Very few things give me actual pleasure.

And it’s been like that for a long time.

Bruce brings me pleasure.

Writing is more of an outlet than a pleasure.

I guess sometimes it’s a pleasure.

But, it’s more of a way to process than anything.

Anything else?

Not really…

I know I’m dealing with anhedonia right now because it has “become impossible to draw enjoyment from things that once elicited excitement, such as music, sex, food, and conversation.” 

I haven’t played music in my apartment in probably a year or so.

I listen to classical music in the car, but I haven’t played my usual music in easily a year.

And that’s fucking sad.

I have zero desire to.

The want isn’t there.

I just don’t care.

I eat the same thing everyday.

Just to get food in me.

Even though I’m gaining weight, which is another topic on self loathing.

And I don’t even want intimacy either.

I haven’t for years now.

Which makes it impossible to date.

I have literally zero drive for an intimate relationship.

I think it’s a combination of the schizoaffective diagnosis and the negative sympotoms that do that to me, add that to the anhedonia and it’s game over.

And I don’t even go into my negative symptoms in this entry.

But they’re basically the same thing as the anhedonia.

That and not taking care of myself.

Which, I’ve been having a really hard time with self care lately.

But, anyway, the medications and my brain have made intimacy something I have a negative drive for.

I don’t even really like being touched most of the time unless I initiate it.

My unwanted intimacy makes me undesirable.

And it makes me stop trying because no one wants someone who doesn’t want intimacy, period.

No one wants someone who doesn’t want to be intimate, let alone doesn’t want to be touched most of the time.

So why bother putting myself out there?

It’s a losing battle.

I’m fucking depleted.

I’ve grown tired of people, places, things, and most of all, myself.

I look back at my life, and completely understand why I was in active addiction for so long.

“Individuals who experience anhedonia are unable to experience the reward that our brains give us after completing something beneficial. As a consequence, individuals with anhedonia often trade things that once brought pleasure for quick fixes such as drugs, alcohol, and risky behaviors.” 

I can remember feeling empty at a young, young age.

And I have been fucking miserable for decades now.

I tried to cover up my anguish with substances for a long time.

I actually just had my clean birthday a couple of months ago.

But using didn’t work.

Obviously.

It absolutely backfired, and made things exponentially worse.

And now I’m dealing with the consequences of an even more misfiring brain than I already had.

I can’t help but wonder if I’ve blown out all of the pleasure centers in my brain, and they’ll/I’ll never truly be happy again.

That I’ve fucked up my brain beyond repair, and this emptiness that constantly surfaces is just me now.

But, with the using, I do know that in those times, I was trying to comfort myself.

It was a momentary escape from the suffering.

Even though it did more harm than good.

I was trying to find pleasure in something.

The problem arose when it just added to the despair.

It just became part of the fucking sadness along with everything else – it just ended up blending in with the doom and darkness, and then I was addicted and couldn’t, and didn’t want to stop.

I found this article that says; “individuals with schizophrenia are 4.6 times more likely to be diagnosed with a substance use disorder than the general population. To explain, the co-occurrence of schizophrenia and addiction most often occurs with the mental condition developing first, causing individuals to self-medicate with alcohol or drugs.” 

So, again, getting hit from multiple sides.

I do remember just wanting to escape the feelings of nothingness.

That I wanted to feel something.

That I was sick of feeling the way I was feeling.

And very few people knew that I was even using at times.

Because the thing is, that I am very, very good at masking.

Clean or high, I am a pro at hiding what I’m really feeling.

I have gone a lifetime pretending I’m fine, when I’m not.

Hiding how and what I feel is a non issue for me.

It’s easier than showing what’s actually bothering me.

Because when I do show people how I feel, people find me annoying, needy, “too much”, intense, irritating, and the like.

I don’t trust people enough to show them how I truly feel and who I truly am.

Full stop.

But I’ll get into that in a second.

I want to talk about my self loathing, and how it affects me.

I want to go into my darkness, even more so.

I want to talk about my behaviors that are still blind to me, yet debilitating, and create parts of this loathing and isolation.

I also want to talk about this entry that popped up.

WordPress has suddenly, this week, been giving me notifications of past posts.

A sort of “on this day” type of thing.

Writings from up to three years ago, when I first started this blog.

The older stuff of mine is so choppy.

Incoherent.

I can tell I had a thought process, but it feels cut off, incomplete.

I’ve come a long way, but yet I still don’t feel like I’m anywhere near “healthy” or “okay” even.

I mean, are you reading this?

Looking back is difficult because I know I’ve made some progress…

But it doesn’t seem to be that much.

And my ideations are too thick lately.

That hasn’t changed.

I’ve written about the ideations since childhood, middle school easily.

I’ve written a lot of entries with mentions of my ideations too.

My older entries are more rough than my newer ones are.

They’re also more raw in a way.

But they’re less concise, less cohesive.

People will randomly read old posts of mine all the time on my blog site. 

I see it in my WordPress “stats”, in my “behind the scenes” type info.

It’s different from the “on this day” notifications, this is from people just finding and reading my posts.

Anyway, I just looked at my “stats” for today, and noticed someone had read an entry of mine called “My Annoying Charm”.

I wrote it on December 7, 2022.

I had completely forgotten about this entry, but it ties into this one quite a bit.

Because I’ve disliked myself for a long time, and that’s apparently reflective of how I act. 

And I talked in this entry that popped up, about how I’m apparently, fucking annoying.

And being annoying, I feel, is a direct correlation with hating myself – I project my self hatred onto others by being frustrating to them somehow.

It’s like I project my anhedonia. 

For some reason, I’ve annoyed people my whole life.

And people have told me this, bluntly, over the years. 

And I still have no idea how I do this though.

I still have no idea what behaviors I perform that are the annoying behaviors.

I know it has to have something to do with my self loathing.

I know that I frustrate people.

I just don’t understand how.

I think I can be funny, but I do notice eye rolls and scoffs usually when I try to crack a joke.

So I’ll just stop talking after I notice that.

Same goes when I try to pipe into a conversation half the time.

There’ll be either an awkward silence after I speak, sometimes a mild conversation, and then sometimes a complete topic change from what I just said.

So, the bulk of the time, again, I’ll just stop talking after I notice that.

But I don’t understand the specific behaviors I emit, or the specific things that I say, that annoy people.

And it absolutely leads into me not trusting folks.

Because I’m at fault for them being annoyed at me, but I’m clueless as to why.

And no one will tell me.

I’ve always done something to bring them to this point of leaving me, or becoming so infuriated with me that they abandoned the friendship or relationship, or they stopped talking to me.

I’m the fuck up.

And I honestly have no idea how I get so annoying that people feel the need to tell me I’m annoying.

It’s fucking rude.

I have this ability to drive people away, and I legit can’t see what I’m doing.

That’s why I know it has something to do with the ways that I hate myself.

I’ve gotta be projecting in some way.

And this is why, over the past 4-5 years, I’ve just sorta, shut down, socially.

I don’t trust people.

At all.

They leave.

They abandon me in times of need.

Because of this constant driving people away, I’ve never felt like I’ve deserved anything good.

Because of consistently being surrounded by people that make it known that they’re just barely tolerating me, I’ve never felt like I deserve friends.

But they never tell me what it specifically was that I did that was the driving force.

So I never learn.

I’m left in the dark, knowing I’ve done something horrible, but not knowing exactly what that was.

They just “bow out”.

Or ghost me.

Or ignore me next time they see me – that’s the big one.

Which drives everything else in my life to continue to not trust people, and to continue to annoy them.

Because I attract people who hate me.

And I just continue the behaviors.

I’m just being myself.

But myself isn’t the right person to be.

And I’ve known that for a lifetime.

Because this has been happening since grade school.

Because believe me, I’ve been told that I’m “too much” many times.

But, I learned that my core self – my personality, my being, is annoying, bothersome, and aggravating to people.

So I’ve learned how to subdue myself.

And began hating myself even more so.

Because I’m not likeable.

And then, I’ve been so socially isolated the last few years, that I forgot that I annoy people so much in the first place.

So, reading that post fucked me up all over again today.

And now, after all these years, I find myself alone.

I’ve just stifled my personality so much because everyone around me at one point in time or another has told me I’m annoying, too much, too intense, or some other negative adjective.

I’ve also driven away everyone I’ve met, and liked being around.

I’ve alienated myself.

Or have I just constantly settled for people who don’t actually love me?

I’m realizing that I surrounded myself with people who only barely tolerated me.

Thinking back, I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend who really liked me for me.

Otherwise, they would’ve accepted me.

Don’t friends accept their friends, faults and all?

Was I the one that the others always talked about behind my back?

Probably.

I was probably “that one” friend.

I think I was the one who was always invited last.

That they’d sit around and discuss if they should invite me or not.

If they could “handle” me that day or not.

I hate people.

Here’s some of the things I wrote in that old entry though:

“Really, I just feel in the way a lot.”

“I’m a nuisance.”

“I hate bringing things up to people that might make them have to do something. Especially if it’s a topic that’s a want. Because most of the time they see what I’m saying as a complaint. I’m really just asking a question or making a statement. But it gets twisted somehow. I don’t have any idea what I do to bring this out of people.”

“People are rude to me. People either love me or hate me. And I do not understand why.”

All of these things are ongoing themes in my life still.

And people do either love or hate me.

I tend to bring out the worst in people.

I’m so tired of dealing with all of this fucking bullshit.

If it’s not my body in intense amounts of pain, it’s my mind wreaking havoc, if it’s not either of those, it’s society rejecting me.

My self esteem is shot.

It has been since I was a kid.

Ever since I can remember.

The anhedonia is running rampant in my life right now too.

And I didn’t realize how long I’ve been dealing with it.

I’m just so muted feeling.

I just feel like so many things I’ve fucked up over the years, and it’s too late to fix any of it.

That I have no chance of changing my brain.

It’s forever morphed into this state of limbo of nothingness, where nothing matters.

It’s just that this feeling has been going on for so long now.

And I just got curious about it yesterday.

I just started looking things up.

I had heard of anhedonia before, but I didn’t really know the details of it.

I didn’t realize that it’s basically depression without the debilitating sadness.

Which is what I’ve been feeling for a very long time now.

And then I found out all of that stuff about hypothyroidism and anhedonia.

It’s really quite mindblowing when I think about it for too long.

I mean, the feelings of meaninglessness that I’ve been dealing with have been there for forever.

Easily since my first feelings of depression around ages 9-10, maybe 11 – but I know the feelings were there even earlier than that, that’s just around the time when I finally told my mom about them, and got sent to therapy.

And it all just makes so much more sense now.

The predisposition is so rampant from all angles.

I am glad that I started googling all this shit.

So there is that.

Knowledge helps put things together.

But these times of reflection are also painful.

Especially with all of these old blog entries popping up.

It should be a reminder of how much better I’m doing.

Instead they just bring up feelings of discomfort, frustration, isolation and sadness.

Maybe one day I’ll be able to read them and not become enraged at myself.

– Keren