For a long time, I thought I was just doing motherhood wrong.
I'd just run my first half marathon. Training, staying active, eating well, doing everything I thought I was meant to. And I felt worse, not better. Bloating and gut issues, puffy and inflamed, headaches, my psoriasis flaring, exhausted all the time, caught in a strange loop of feeling wired and completely drained at once. There was anxiety, stretches of depression, brain fog. And the harder I trained and the cleaner I ate, the more weight I put on.
None of it felt dramatic enough on its own, so I blamed the usual suspects: no sleep, FIFO life, postpartum hormones, getting older. But it kept stacking up. I knew something wasn't right. I just couldn't explain what.
When the diagnosis finally came, Hashimoto's, an autoimmune condition, it was relief and fear at once. Relief because there was a real reason and I wasn't imagining it. Fear because the more I read, the bigger it felt.